Memory's Wake Omnibus: The Complete Illustrated YA Fantasy Series (42 page)

“Nope. Free as a thing that's free,” Memory lied. “That kicked ass, by the way. You were like a fancy ninja.”

“Thanks, I think.” Roen started heading out to a side door and motioned for Memory to follow. Around them, girls stared with open jealousy and gossiped to each other. Memory wondered what they thought Roen’s relationship with her was, which made her wonder what it was as well. She felt a little satisfied to be walking out with him while he barely acknowledged the throng of smitten girls he left behind.

“What’s up with the adoring fans?” she asked with a sly grin.

“Didn’t you hear? I’m a great big hero. Rescued a couple of princesses and helped save the kingdom, they say. The ladies are practically throwing themselves at me.” Roen smiled roguishly. “It’s lucky I’m so used to it. Otherwise, I might let it go to my head.”

They stopped at some wooden lockers, and he put away his fencing mask and sword. Memory stared at the roll of his shoulders as he pulled the jacket off and put it away as well. He ruffled his hair again and Memory found herself needing to catch her breath.
Yeah, I can understand the fan club.

“Those masks make my hair feel awful,” he explained, noticing her watching.

“Girl.”

Roen laughed loudly. “I’m finished for the day, how about you? Want to ride back to the castle with me?”

“Best suggestion ever. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

A line of carriages awaited their passengers beside the school grounds and like a true gentlemen, Roen helped Memory into one marked with the royal crest. He tapped on the front to the driver, and the carriage started to rumble and bump about as they made their way back to the castle.

“The fencing, was it for something particular or just to show off your moves to the ladies?” Memory leaned back and put her feet up on the seat across from her, next to Roen.

“A friend offered to catch me up on proper technique, as I haven’t had many formal lessons. I don’t want to be too behind when fencing classes begin.” Roen tilted his head. “And maybe just a little to show off.”

“You have classes for
sword fighting
? This is so unfair! Men get to do all the cool stuff. I hate to talk down on my kingdom, but there are some funny ideas here about the positions men and women should have.”

“Don’t look at me, I think women should be able to take any position they want.” Roen paused a moment then laughed. “That was a little risqué even for me.”

Memory made an exaggerated kissy face. “You’re just ahead of your time, ladies’ man. Meanwhile in Memoryland, I’m seriously considering magically changing myself into a boy just so I can get into some politics lessons.”

“You know, if you really want to do some classes outside of the finishing school curriculum, I have an idea for an easier way to go about it.” Roen leaned toward her like they were sharing secrets. “It’s not the sort of thing a girl of Avall would normally do, but then, you’re no normal girl, are you?”

Eloryn hadn’t seen Memory since they stopped to watch the fencing. She’d missed all of the afternoon’s classes. Eloryn sat through them alone feeling an equal share of anger and worry. The gossip that Memory had left the school early with Roen reached her as she boarded her carriage to return to the castle. Her stomach ached every time she hypothesized on why they left early together, and so after walking to Memory’s door three times only to return to her seat again, she finally knocked.

“What’s the secret password?” came the reply, followed by giggling.

Eloryn frowned. “I don’t know the secret password, but I am your sister. Who else would be knocking at our adjoining door?”

“The correct answer was ‘Not by the hair of my chinny-chin-chin,’ but come in anyway.”

All anger fled Eloryn when she walked in on her sister trying on clothes in the middle of her sitting room. She looked as if she had been struggling to put on a pair of boy’s trousers that were still around her ankles, the rest of her covered in a shirt that was far too large. Clara lounged in a nearby arm-chair, red-faced from barely suppressed laughter.

“Mem,” Eloryn began, slowly stepping into the room. “What in Avall are you doing?”

Memory paused for a moment and then laughed.

“Clara got them for me. Ugh, so many buttons.” Memory did a twirl when she finished putting the trousers on. “What do you think?”

“I think I’m confused and a little concerned for my sister?”

“It’s an idea me and Roen came up with. I was all ‘I’m gonna zap myself into a boy,’ and he was all ‘it’d be easier to just dress like one’ and I was all ‘duh, Mem!’ and then here we are!”

Eloryn tilted her head. “You… want to be a boy?”

“Sort of, yeah. Just so I can attend the classes that I want, and not attend the ones I don’t. Roen’s enrolling me as one of his brothers, Tristan. He said he had so many brothers people would assume one had just come out of the woodwork. As
Tristan
I’ll be able to learn whatever I want.” Memory looked genuinely enthusiastic as she worked on tucking her shirt in. “And
Memory
will be unwell for a while and unable to attend her lame girly classes.”

Clara wheezed a squeaky laugh. “You should tell the teachers you’re having women’s problems.”

Is this all just a joke to them?
Eloryn wanted to be supportive of her sister, but Memory was making it hard. Eloryn had no way out, no freedom to skip the classes she’d been assigned. Even if she wouldn’t be missed, she had a duty to make her appearance, to do and be seen to do her part. Who was being supportive to her, the sacrifices she was making? Her next words took on a spiteful tone that she didn’t like. “And why are you getting dressed out here? If you did so in your bath or bed chamber where there are some mirrors you’d see you’ve got that shirt on inside out.”

Clara burst into tearful laughter and hid her head in a cushion, as though she’d just been waiting for someone else to notice.

Memory frowned and shrugged. “I’m a bit over seeing myself at the moment.”

Memory pulled off the shirt and mock-whipped Clara with it while standing in just a bodice and trousers. “You, Giggles McLaughsalot, these shirts are way oversized. How big do you think I am?”

“You’re just a teeny tiny little thing.” Clara got up and headed to the door, still chuckling. “I’ll go and see if I can find something smaller, but I’m really not sure any of the men I know are quite that small. Alack, now she’s making me steal clothing from boys!”

Memory pointed sternly at the exit. “Just walk away before I make a comeback so awesome it will explode you.”

The door closed after Clara and Memory looked at Eloryn, her expression changing from mirth to concern.

“Okay. What’s up, Lory? We were just having a bit of fun, but I am serious about doing this. I should be able to learn what I want to learn.” Memory sat down in front of her and Eloryn took a seat as well.

“I know. I’m sorry.” She paused, lowering her head. “I’m simply tired and upset. It’s been such a long day, and I just bumped into Hayes. He told me he’s received intelligence that our uncle is plotting to amass an army against us, to make his claim on Caermaellan.”

Memory stood back up again. “What? No way! Why would somebody do that? After all this place has been through?”

“Power is the worst kind of motivator. There is no sense to what it makes people do.” Eloryn stood up as well and started pacing, fidgeting her fingers. “I just… I feel like if I could speak with our uncle I could make things right, but Hayes says he’s refusing to even see me. He says we need to act aggressively to show a firm hand and stop any voices of dissent against us or the Council.”

Memory looked as overwhelmed as Eloryn felt. “I’m sorry. I had no idea you were dealing with stuff like this. What are you going to do?”

“For now, I’m going to keep sending requests for a meeting. But everyone is pushing me to take a firmer stance. There are just so many decisions to make and changes to oversee.” She’d been queen for not even a week and it already wore her down more than she wanted to admit. “I appreciate everyone’s opinions and advice, and Hayes has been so helpful to me, but I worry that he’s too aggressive when it comes to diplomatic policy. He wants to have more control over the courts and sentencing, to catch and question conspirators and stop issues like this from arising.”

Memory frowned as she picked up another shirt and started buttoning it on. It was slightly smaller than the last men’s shirt, but masses of excess fabric still draped over her small frame.

“Hayes seems to be taking on a hell of a lot of responsibilities. You know, I don’t trust the guy. He outright said to me that ruling isn’t a woman’s job. I feel like you’re giving away too much power to a man we don’t actually know that much about.”

“He’s just trying to ease my burdens.”

“Then why is it taking so long for him to establish the proper government instead of taking all those burdens on himself? Hayes might seem like he’s looking after you, but he’s not Alward. It’s like Hayes is trying to step in and take Alward’s place, but you can’t assume Hayes has your best interests at heart.”

Alward’s name felt like a slap to Eloryn’s face. Hayes could never replace Alward. They were nothing alike. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t look to him for guidance. Eloryn straightened her back and stopped pacing. “I have to trust Hayes and my other advisors to take on some responsibilities. I have to delegate to get things done. And who would you rather have in power? Some noble who we’ve never even met? Neither of us know who we can truly trust in this time, but at least with the Council we know that they support us for rule and are doing as much as they can to help us, even if Hayes’s behavior may seem firm at times.”

“And you’re not worried at all about the Council running
everything
?” Memory kept pushing, but Eloryn had run out of any energy. Her reply had no attitude, just honest curiosity.

“Do you think you could do a better job, Mem?”

Memory pouted, looking at the ceiling. “Not right now. But maybe one day, if I learned about the right things. That’s what this is all about,” she said, tugging at her trousers. “They don’t even want me to have the chance to be able to do it.”

“That may be so, but I’ve had all the training and teaching I’ll need for a lifetime from Alward, but only experience can teach me who I can actually trust. That isn’t something you can learn at school.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Memory conceded, standing to leave. “But at least I can admit that I do have a lot more to learn, and I’m doing something about it. There’s also something to be said for instinct, and it sounds like you’re ignoring the heck out of yours.” Memory grabbed a bag from a table and strapped it across herself, then loaded it with bread rolls from a tray nearby. “I’m going to see Will.”

Eloryn raised an eyebrow. “Dressed like that?”

Memory looked down at herself. “Sure. Will doesn’t care what I wear.” She paused, as if considering something. “I might pop by to see Roen on the way, to get his approval on my costume. Want to come? I think he was sad you didn’t stay after the fencing.”

Eloryn’s hand went to her neckline and wrapped around her jade pendant. She took a moment to compose herself, to give the answer she should instead of the one she wanted. “No, that’s probably not a good idea.”

Memory sighed audibly. “When will it be a good idea? Why are you avoiding him?”

“It’s just… easier this way.”

“Look, Lory, I know you’re shy, but you have to get over it.” Memory paused at the door on her way out, thoughtful for a moment. She put a bowler hat on then turned back again. “I can tell you two make each other giddy around the knees, but do you really think he’s going to wait forever? You saw the girls at fencing. I don’t see how it’s going to be easier for you when you see him in the arms of someone else.”

Grateful to be in pants instead of a massive gown, Memory climbed out the tower window onto the old castle walls. She looked forward to seeing Will. They’d dubbed their meeting place the Ivy Room.
Our secret place. My safe place.
The thought made her smile. She gazed out over the battlements at the view of the city in the distance, a grey forest of steeples and smoking chimneys. Swallows swooped around her chasing tiny insects in the waning light. The temperature chilled quickly as the sun dropped. It was fresh, and despite having an emotionally draining day, Memory was in a good mood.

Until her path was blocked by Hope, standing right in front of her.

Memory stopped and blinked a couple of times, trying to rid herself of this vision of how she used to be. When it refused to vanish, she forged on ahead, hoping it would just fade away. It didn’t.

Hope followed closely beside Memory as she marched along the ramparts.

“I wouldn’t bother. He’s not there.”

Memory ignored her.

“I said Will’s not showing. He’s off with his fairy friends.”

Memory put her fingers in her ears and hummed, looking the other way. Hope grabbed her hands and tugged them out, shocking Memory at her tangible touch.

“Stop being so childish!”

“You’re not real, go away.”

“Yeah, I am real.”

“I know the clothes you’re wearing are put away in my cupboard, so they’re not real at least.”

Hope gave an exasperated groan. “Really? My clothes are probably the least weird thing about my existence.”

“Fine, I’ll bite. What is the whole thing with your existence?”
I ask a figment of my insanity. Break with reality - complete!

“I told you, I’m you. Not Memory you. I’m who you used to be.”

Memory shook her head. “Still not getting it.”

“It’s crazy, I know. The best I can figure is that I’m the missing parts of you. The bits that got lost when you cut off Thayl’s hand.”

“Right. So his brand new stump gave birth to you?”

“Of course it’s going to sound dumb when you say it like that. But all my, your, memories and soul, were caught up in all that magic, and ta-da, here I am.”

They arrived at the Ivy Room, and Memory lifted the leafy screen that concealed it.

And Hope was right. Will wasn’t there. This was the third day he’d missed meeting up already, and he had only dodged Memory’s questions about why.