Memory's Wake Omnibus: The Complete Illustrated YA Fantasy Series (52 page)

Hayes stood, matching her. “You’re speaking of things you know nothing about. Caliburn has been lost since the days of Arthur. An arranged marriage is the only way to solidify the support and strength of the people of Caermaellan.”

Memory slammed her palm on the table. It rattled beneath her, flimsy, nothing like the ancient, sturdiness of the round table. She was about to continue her argument when Roen and his parents entered the room.

Eloryn stood up, a confused look on her face that bordered on hopeful. She greeted Roen’s parents formally. “Your highnesses, so lovely to see you all.”

Hayes met them with a bow, but his expression wasn’t pleasant. “You’re early, but never mind. If we could postpone what we were discussing, my ladies.” He looked to Memory and Eloryn. Eloryn nodded.

There weren’t any seats left at the table, so Bedevere offered his to Isabeth, and Brannon and Roen stood behind her. Roen’s parents looked very much as they had when Memory first met them. Even in their falling-down cottage they dressed like royalty and held that bearing. And still Memory couldn’t help but look at Brannon’s missing arm, which made her think about Thayl even more.

Memory, Eloryn, and Hayes returned to their seats.

“How can we help you, Councilor Hayes?” Roen asked, awaiting the reply with a frown.

“It’s more about how we can help you,” Hayes began, opening his arms wide in a giving gesture. “I have arranged for those who took over your family’s duchy to be relocated. As the estates of Sir Ewain have recently become available, those who had been occupying your family’s lands have agreed to move and return your ancestral home to you.”

Brannon put his only hand on his wife’s shoulder and squeezed, and she reached up and took his hand in hers. She said, “We can go home? After all these years? We will have our home again?”

Hayes simply smiled, and so did Roen’s parents. Roen’s frown remained.

Does that mean he’ll have to go, too?
Memory turned to get a reading from Eloryn, but she looked like a statue, a polite smile frozen in place over a sickly white pallor.

“This is fine news indeed,” Eloryn said, her voice almost robotic.

Brannon strode up to Hayes and shook his hand. “We are in your debt. We had thought our home was as lost to us as our other sons.”

Hayes’s eyes closed slightly and he smiled. “Come, we will adjourn this meeting so I can begin your arrangements to move. As the Lafaettes have occupied your estate for ten years, there will be some management required to organize the change. We will, of course, strive to have you home as soon as possible.”

As if everything had been resolved, Hayes concluded the meeting, and everyone dispersed. Roen and his parents followed Hayes out. Memory sat stunned for a moment, then ran to catch up with Eloryn, who was exiting under the supervision of her guards.

“Lory, I’m so sorry. About, jeez, well, that whole meeting,” Memory pleaded, trying to keep up with her. “Particularly about Thayl. I was going to tell you. I was just waiting for the right time. That
totally
wasn’t the right time.”

Eloryn stopped walking and looked at Memory. There were tears in her eyes, but her voice remained strong. “It’s not that you didn’t tell me. For all we know, it is only a lie. That is what upsets me. I don’t understand how you could believe it. How could you accept him as a father after everything that he did to you?”

Because I’m not right, because my soul is broken, because I don’t fit in anywhere with anyone else, because of all these reasons too painful to say.

Memory turned her face away. “We’ve all got something dark in us, Lory.”

Roen met Memory at the entrance to his chambers. She flourished her hands around herself.

“Notice anything different?” she asked, her mouth edging into a smile. She looked much the same as usual, wearing a wide-skirted gown he’d never seen before, her pale hair pinned into a simple yet elegant style with a braid running across the front.

Roen looked Memory up and down and then laughed. “You’ve lost some weight.”

“Boy did I,” Memory said, looking over her shoulder. “About six men plus armor worth of weight.”

Roen smiled and stepped out of his doorway. He’d been in a low mood since Hayes’s announcement that his family could return home, but Memory always seemed to get a smile from him. The two of them began wandering along the corridor through to the main wing of the palace.

“Finally convinced them you don’t need protecting?”

“Hayes has calmed down a bit, thank the god of all that is cute and fuzzy,” Memory said. She opened a delicate silk purse that hung around her waist and pulled out a cream bun and started eating it. Roen laughed. Memory continued through a full mouth. “He’s letting us go back to school again soon, and I get free run of the castle without getting trailed. Lory still has a few guards with her all the time though, being the all-important one, poor thing.”

Roen wondered if those guards were also being ordered to keep an eye out for him.

Memory finished the bun and licked her fingers. “But the going back to school part is turning out to be a mess. I have to go to all my stupid etiquette classes now but have to restructure them to fit some time in to be tutored by Bedevere. Got to talk it through with the headmistress and see what will work, which is why I need this mirror whatsit.”

“The Speaking Mirror,” Roen said.

“Yeah, that. What’s the story with it?”

Roen thought back to the fairy tales he’d known as a child that explained the magic of the mirrors. “The story is that a powerful Maellan queen created it. She was very vain and enchanted a mirror to compliment how she looked and talk back to her when she asked questions. Things went bad for her, and the mirror was shattered into a number of pieces. A wizard discovered that the parts of the mirror could still communicate with each other, in a fashion. Alward had two, one from the Wizard’s Council and another taken from Loredanna’s estate the night after she died. Eloryn used one to speak with Haldor before we confronted Thayl.”

Memory squinted, looking at the ceiling as she walked. “Gah, something there seems so familiar, but I can’t pick it. Something from my past. I bet Will would know.” She sighed. “You haven’t seen him at all lately, have you?”

“No, not except his late night visits to my balcony every night,” Roen said in a dreamy voice.

Memory punched him. “Has Clara been talking? I’m going to kill her!”

Memory looked across at Roen a couple of times then finally asked, “Do you think that you’ll move back to your home, with your parents?”

Roen kept walking, chewing his lips, a deep frown over his eyes. It took a moment for him to answer. “No. I will stay at court. When Eloryn was dying I promised her I would never leave her, and I won’t. Even if I hadn’t promised, I couldn’t leave her. Even if it hurts to be by her side, I won’t leave her.”

Memory seemed saddened by his response but reached out and squeezed his hand briefly. They passed through the main entrance hall and were about to climb the grand staircase when a man cried out.

“Stop! Thief!”

Roen froze. He shook off the fear and turned to see what was happening.

A very short, older man pointed his way and marched toward him and Memory. Roen’s fear returned.

“Stop right there, thief.”

Roen felt as though all blood had drained from his body. He smiled, but it didn’t feel convincing. “Good sir, you must have me confused with someone else.”

“Don’t ‘good sir’ me, scoundrel. I recognize your face. You’re the one who stole from the Guthrie estate just months ago. Jumped out the window with the mistress’s finest gems.” The man shook a finger as he spat out his words. He wore a servant’s uniform bearing the Guthrie crest and was old, wrinkled, but his eyes were clear and sparkled with disgust.

The night I tore my shoulder from its socket. No, I was sure I got away clean.
Roen’s breath came hard like his chest was being crushed. He couldn’t say anything. His worst nightmare was being enacted here, within the walls of Caermaellan palace.

A few other nobles in the entrance hall had stopped to see what was happening.

Memory stepped between the old man and Roen. “Chill out, mister, you’ve made a mistake.”

The servant looked her up and down. “Your highness?” He bowed, spluttering, becoming flustered. “Your highness, I have made no mistake. We must call guards to protect you from this criminal. Guards!”

He looked about frantically and spotting some guards across the hall, started heading to them. Memory grabbed the back of his shirt, trying to slow him down.

Roen felt a hand on his shoulder and waited to be shackled and imprisoned. Instead, he heard Hayes’s voice.

“You have a complaint?” he said. He had come down the stairs behind Roen and continued down toward the servant.

The servant clearly recognized Hayes, and looking triumphantly at Roen, opened his mouth to loose his accusations.

Hayes held up a hand and the man stayed quiet. Turning back to Roen and Memory, Hayes said, “I’ll handle this.”

Hayes led the servant away to a private chamber, speaking quietly to him.

Roen realized he’d been holding his breath, and let it out in a rush. Nobles around the room went about their way, and Roen tried to convince his legs to keep holding his weight.

Memory hovered around him. “Are you okay? I mean, you know, with the stuff, and things.”

Roen looked at her and grinned, relief spreading through him. “I can’t believe you tried to tackle an old man for me.”

“I wouldn’t call that a tackle, just a bit of shirt pulling.” Memory smiled back at him, but frowned when she looked to where Hayes and the servant had exited. “Hayes better be looking after this properly. I’m not sure if I like the idea of how he handles things.”

Roen leaned on the cold, marble banister, pushing his hair back from his face. “I’m just glad it’s being handled. The fact it is something that has to be handled is too much of a shameful imposition already. Hayes has been more than kind.”

Memory snorted. “Hayes? Kind? Doubt it. Everything he does gives me the squeams. Like the fact Hayes announces arranged marriages and tries to send you away on the same day. Co-incidence? I think not.”

Roen shook his head. He was so grateful for having so narrowly avoided the shame of his crimes. He wouldn’t question the man who had saved him. “Let’s get you to the mirror.”

The rain and winds that shrouded Caermaellan for weeks had eased, and the sunlight had everyone outside. The ringlet-topped girl with too much enthusiasm from their classes had recommended they all spend their break sitting on the grass in the large courtyard of the finishing school. In an attempt to cultivate friends and some sort of normal life, Memory and Eloryn agreed.

A half-dozen other girls from their classes came along, and they all sat on the ground, the fluffy fabric of their skirts puffing around them, like a field of marshmallows.

Memory wriggled in hers, trying to sit comfortably on the grass in a corset and hooped skirt. She looked at the pagoda across from them longingly. “There are a bunch of benches, right there!” she whispered to Eloryn.

Eloryn rolled her eyes and smiled. “Hush, this is nice. And you’ve never been one to worry about the risk of staining your gown.”

Laudine, with her ringlets, practically bounced in place as she stared at Eloryn, starry eyed. “How many suitors have you met with so far?”

Eloryn blushed. “Two.” She didn’t elaborate, but Memory knew her feelings about the dates without hearing more. Unfortunately, Eloryn’s suitors and marriage were all the other girls wished to discuss.

Laudine sighed. “It must be so wonderful. You must have the pick of the best nobles in Avall.”

Eloryn screwed up her mouth then dropped her shoulders as though giving up. She pulled a piece of paper from her binder of notes. “Here, you can see for yourself.”

Laudine’s eyes nearly popped from her head. “Is this
the list
?”

Eloryn nodded and Laudine reached for it reverentially, but another girl grabbed it first. A huddle of giggles and lace formed around the paper.

Memory frowned. That list becoming public could be a political disaster. “Should you really have given…” One look at Eloryn’s expression, so distant and tired, and Memory’s warning faded to nothing.

Memory sighed and lay back on the grass to watch the clouds and take some strain off her corseted chest. Clouds were building, and it seemed the sunshine they enjoyed would be brief. Beside her, Eloryn smiled, but Memory could easily see through her expression.

Eloryn glanced at Memory a couple of times then asked, “Have you spoken with Roen recently?”

“A bit. Not a lot, I mean.” Memory swallowed. She still felt guilty for what had gone on between her and Roen. What little there was. “I haven’t been seeing him as much since Tristan got expelled.”

Beside them their classmates remained enthralled by the list of Eloryn’s approved suitors, gasping their opinions at each selection.

“Ew. Too old, too old.”

“Oh no, not him, frightfully dull witted.”

Their commentary didn’t fill Memory with confidence in the Council’s choices.

Eloryn looped her finger around the necklace she wore and pulled her jade pendant from where it was hidden under the neckline of her dress. She rubbed it between her fingers in what seemed like an unconscious action. Memory knew where she had gotten the pendant from. She gave Eloryn a knowing look, and Eloryn tucked it away again.

“Did he say when he was leaving?” she asked.

Memory shook her head. “He’s not going with his parents. He’s going to stay here.”

Memory could see Eloryn take a deep breath. Feeling mischievous, she said, “You know he’s staying because of you.”

Memory only had a moment to appreciate the look on Eloryn’s face before they were interrupted by a few young men who joined the group, formally introducing themselves. Memory forgot each of their names instantly.

The huddle of girls broke up, passing the list between them when the guys showed interest in it, like a flirty game of keep-away.

Eloryn and Memory’s guards watched the group carefully, but the male additions to their group kept a respectful distance from the royal pair anyway, except for one who came and sat close to Memory.

Memory stole a few side-long glances at him as he laughed at the escalating game with the list. He was gorgeous. His blue eyes reminded her of Will’s, but he had wavy blonde hair that was tied back into a short nub of a ponytail. He was dressed formally, but didn’t wear the puffy tie almost all other men wore, and the top buttons of his shirt were undone.

He caught her looking and smiled.

Damn it.

Memory tried to casually cover her ogling. “Sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“I’m Dylan.”

“Memory,” she said, and shook his hand.

He gave her a sly grin, then pulled her hand up and kissed it. “Your highness, I did recognize you.”

The kiss made Memory’s hand twitch. She wasn’t sure if it was pleasant or unpleasant, but the situation was getting out of her comfort zone, so she began the process of standing up to leave. Doing so gracefully proved difficult. She managed to step on her own skirts in a way that meant she couldn’t straighten her legs and fell back on her butt.

Dylan hopped to his feet and offered her a hand up.

“Thanks. Lory, I’m heading off,” Memory said, then looked back to Dylan. His good looks caught her off guard, as though she didn’t believe it until she saw him again. The slight pout to his bottom lip was a thing of beauty. “It was nice to meet you, Dylan. But I’m off to the library to do some research for the afternoon.”

“Might I join you?” he suggested.

“I’m not sure you’d be interested. It’s just econom-er-etiquette. Etiquettey things, girly stuff. Yep.”

“Econom-er-etiquette is one of my specialties,” Dylan said, his eyes sparkling.

Fine, you win this round.

Memory gave him the okay to follow her with a flick of her head.

Memory sat across the desk from Dylan in a small private room adjoining the school’s library. Her ink pen splotched over her work, and Dylan laughed at her. She scrunched up the paper and threw it at him, causing him to chase her round the table. The librarian walked by the doorway and gave them a look. They both sat back in their seats with suppressed giggles.

The daylight shining through the broad window grew dull, and Memory wondered if she should head back to the palace soon. She had enjoyed her afternoon with Dylan so much she didn’t want it to end.

Memory relished the chance to grill him about economics, law, and politics, and it turned out that he was very well studied. He was funny and had a deadpan world-weariness that appealed to Memory. He also made for a pleasant, if distracting, view across the table.

Roen appeared in the doorway and came in as though he were looking for her. Memory prepared to introduce him to Dylan, but it seemed like they already knew one another.

“How dare you show your face here?” Roen shouted. He ran at Dylan, grabbing him by the coat and pushing him into the bookshelf behind him, knocking books to the floor.

Memory had never seen him so angry. “Roen, stop it! What are you doing?”

“Do you have any idea what you did to our family?” Roen shook Dylan with each word, bashing him against the solid wooden shelving.

Dylan spoke behest words and light flared around Roen’s face.

Roen gasped, letting go and backing away. He rubbed at his watering eyes, blinking. With a grunt he lunged back toward Dylan.

“I will use the behest again,” Dylan warned.

Roen grunted and stepped back. He ran his hands up into his hair, pacing in front of Dylan like a lion penning in its prey.

Dylan reached a hand out to Roen. It was ignored. “What I did, was only to protect myself, Roen. All of our brothers were dead, and I didn’t intend to end up the same way.”

“You could have come with us! But instead you chose to serve yourself, and Thayl, over your family.”

“You’re making it sound like I supported him,” Dylan said.

“You supported him by not opposing him.”

“What would you do? Punish everyone in Avall who did not fight to the death against Thayl? Half the court would be included. You can’t punish everyone who complied with a new ruler in order to survive.”

Memory looked between the two of them. She should have seen the resemblance before. “Roen? This is your brother?”

Roen turned away. “He is no brother of mine. He is a wretched coward, and he’s just leaving.”

Dylan’s jaw worked like he had more to say, but he bowed to Memory and left. Roen watched him until he was out of sight then turned to Memory.

“Are you all right? He didn’t hurt you at all, do anything to you?” He ran his hands down her arms as though checking for injuries.

Memory shook her head, confused. “Of course I’m all right. We were just studying together.”

Looking at Roen, Memory could see the similarities between the two brothers more now. Both so handsome, with strong jaws, and golden features.

“Be careful, Mem, he’s not to be trusted. He’s always been the most selfish person I’ve known. You shouldn’t spend time with him,” Roen warned.

Memory stepped back, his words hitting a sore spot. “I can spend time with whoever I want. Especially since your time is better spent uselessly pining over Lory.”

The wild electricity in Roen’s eyes scared Memory. He grunted. “Is this what you want?”

He grabbed her, pulling her in roughly and kissing her.

The kiss was full of passion and anger, his lips hard.

Memory cried out, pushing at Roen, his arms stronger than hers, imprisoning her. A sick feeling swelled in her, and books around them started rattling on the desks. The glass in one of the square window panes cracked.

Roen let go of Memory. His eyebrows were low, confused, appalled.

Memory backed away from him. Her chest ached, and she took a moment to gather herself.

“No,” Memory said. “It’s not because I know it’s not what you want. Be with Eloryn,” she said, looking into his eyes. “Stop letting anything get in your way.”

“I’m… Memory, I’m so…” Roen put a hand to his mouth.

Memory knew that he hadn’t been in control, that he had lost himself for a moment. She knew what that was like. But it didn’t make her feel any better about it.

“You should go,” Memory said.

And without saying a word, he did.

Memory flopped to the floor. Thin arms wrapped her from behind and held her tight. She held them back, clinging to the black and white striped sleeves.

“I know how horrible it feels,” said Hope.

“Something specific, or just everything, always?” Memory asked with a dull laugh.

“The pain of having someone choose somebody else over you,” Hope whispered in her ear.

“I don’t even want Roen, I just—”

“It still cuts.”

Memory nodded and put her head down on Hope’s shoulder. “How do you know how it feels?”

Hope paused. “Just part of our life that you can’t remember.”

Had I been in love before?

“Tell me about it,” Memory asked.

“All you need to know is that the people you care about will only hurt you. Love is a poison that has no antidote.”