Memory's Wake Omnibus: The Complete Illustrated YA Fantasy Series (73 page)

Eloryn stepped into the carriage next, taking the seat beside her. “If anything, you being queen would make it harder for Finvarra to harvest the magic from you. Far more protections and politics in place. But that is our problem now as well. Finvarra is the king of the Unseelie Fae. There is not a move we can make against him for justice for this that wouldn’t risk war, or risk the Pact itself.”

All living captives from Finvarra’s blood lair were brought back to the palace for medical care. Both Eloryn and the wizards of the Council worked without sleep for two days to heal the survivors. Once well enough, they were also questioned on any further insight into what Finvarra had been doing. Most knew nothing, too dazed, compelled, or simply traumatized to remember anything other than an overwhelming sense of horror. Most remembered very little beyond being taken by a handsome man or woman who then turned out to be a gaunt. Those that remembered more never saw any fae except the gaunts, who would bleed the victims and take the blood away.

Memory had searched the survivors for one person in particular; a little girl called Edele. She wasn’t there. It had been so long since Edele had been taken that her fate was clear. Eloryn could see the ferocity of emotions that discovery caused within her sister. Eloryn was proud to see Memory keep her sadness and rage reined in, but even a couple of days later, the teapots and crockery on their morning tea setting rattled just by being within proximity to Memory.

Eloryn had arranged for them to have some time with just the two of them, while Roen and Will spent some time together as well, and the sisters sat at a neatly set up table on the emerald lawn of the palace’s private gardens. Eloryn poured out some chamomile tea for her sister. “All of Finvarra’s captives have made a full recovery, physically at least, and there have been no further reports of people going missing from Caermaellan since.”

Memory rubbed her forehead with the palm of her hand. “But we still have to deal with him. Somehow. And Hayes, somehow. Your wedding is meant to be in just two days and all we have are somehows.”

“We’ll find something. We have to.”

“You know what I want to do? I want to get both Finvarra and Hayes in front of me, then take a crap on my fist and punch them both in the mouth.”

Eloryn coughed up her tea. "That was the singularly most graphic, disgusting and violent thing I've ever heard.”

“You’ve led a very sheltered life.”

“And yet I can’t help agreeing with the sentiment.” Eloryn sat back in her chair and looked up at the sky. The clouds hung so low and dark, barely any daylight shone through and the temperature was dropping tangibly. A hawk circled high above. She wondered what she must look like in its eyes. What their problems would seem like to that animal, so wild and free. “I’ve almost finished rebuilding the Round Table. I wish all problems could be solved by fixing, rebuilding, or creating. Violence and conflict lead only to more of the same. If only there were some way I could heal Hayes’s heart, to take away his greed or ambition or any grudges he holds against me for my actions.”

Memory leaned forward. “Can you? You are so good with your magic, and you can heal bodies so well. What about minds?”

Eloryn paused.
Could I?
She wasn’t sure at all if it was within her power, but she saw the possibility there, and the hope. “If I could, wouldn’t it be wrong for me to change a person’s thoughts and feelings without permission, for my own gain?”

“Pfft. Always having to bring logic and ethics into the argument. Okay, think of it this way- would it be wrong to cure someone of blindness without permission?” Memory’s mouth twisted and she made a smacking sound with her tongue. “Without permission. Yuck. Yeah, those words just taste bad together. I guess even good things done without permission turn bad, don’t they?”

Eloryn placed her teacup carefully back onto the saucer and regarded her sister for a moment. “You’ve suffered more hurt than many. Even with permission, is this something you would seek out? To have your hurts healed, taken away, or forgotten?”

Memory looked down, the tiniest smile on her mouth, so small it looked sad.

“A week or two ago I might have said yes. But no. I wouldn’t. If it meant forgetting those I’ve lost, then no. I never want to lose them.”

Eloryn bowed her head. A small service had been held for Peirs just the day before. Memory wanted a grand event, to honor him, but Erec requested it be kept simple. Even still, the small graveyard overflowed with people coming to say goodbye. Erec was Peirs’s only blood family, but there were the members of the resistance Peirs led, every guard from the castle, and every child from Memory and Maeve’s orphanage mourning for him.

Afterwards, when everyone had gone and Memory thought she was alone, Eloryn saw her placing out a small marker in the graveyard for Edele as well.

As though sharing thoughts with her twin, Memory touched the corner of her eye to clear away a tear. “If it meant not being the person I am now, I would not. I’m the person I am now because of the hurt and the happiness I’ve lived through. I’ve lost parts of me before. I never want to lose anything again.”

Eloryn’s smile grew as her sister spoke, and grew so wide it almost forced tears from her eyes.

Memory kicked her under the table. “Quit it. You’re making this all awkward now.”

“I don’t mind. You make me feel that somehow, everything will turn out fine.”

Memory leaned to the side, looking past Eloryn. “This doesn’t look very fine. Check it out. What’s going on?”

Eloryn turned around to see Roen being escorted to them by Bedevere and a rank of guards. Will followed a small way behind.

She stood to greet them.

Bedevere looked deeply troubled, and Roen’s expression matched.

Bedevere bowed to Memory and Eloryn in turn. “Your Majesty, Your Highness, I’m sorry to interrupt you but Hayes has been found dead in his cell.”

Memory got to her feet too as Will came to stand beside her. “No way. You mean, naturally? Or…”

Eloryn looked at the guards again, keeping close rank around Roen. “You can’t believe Roen had something to do with this.”

Bedevere bowed his head. “It seems as though Hayes was poisoned. There is a witness that has reported seeing Sir Roen near Hayes’s cell. Or someone that looked like him,” Bedevere amended. “Given that he also has motivation, he will be considered a suspect until the investigation is complete.”

“How long will that take?” Memory asked.

“Not long. We will be utilizing all techniques available to the Council. There are no secrets to magic. I wish I could oversee the investigation myself, but I’m afraid I also am considered to have conflict of interest, if not motivation, myself.”

Eloryn nodded. She still missed his brother, Waylan, as well. “Is there nothing further we can do other than wait?”

“I fear not,” Bedevere said.

Roen tilted his head, seeming more embarrassed than anything. “They want to confine me to quarters for now. Apparently I’m considered of little risk of escape due to my lack of spark. I asked to be taken to you. If I must be confined to quarters, your quarters are much more accommodating than my own.”

Eloryn’s lips twitched into a small smile. She already knew it couldn’t be him who murdered Hayes. She just had to trust the investigation would also prove his innocence. Taking him by the hand, she began leading the way back to her chambers. The guards parted, making way for them and Memory and Will following.

Bedevere stood back and watched them leave. “At least this has solved the dilemma of the marriage contract.”

Eloryn turned back, answering over her shoulder. “We never wanted it solved this way.”

Bedevere bowed low. “I know. For all Hayes did to my family as well, I am not happy to see him ended this way. There is no honor in this.”

Memory pulled the thick, fur-lined cloak tight around her shoulders. Her teeth rattled as she puffed out a breath, watching it form mist on the air and mingling with the delicate snowflakes falling around her.

“Come back inside. You’ll get cold,” Will said from behind her.

“Like you can talk,” Memory responded, shaking her head. Will still only wore a single layer of clothing, just one thin, button down shirt and pants. No shoes. She swore he didn’t feel the cold at all. Snow fell all around them, soft and gentle, as they watched from Memory’s balcony. Enough had fallen to start giving the trees and ground of the palace gardens a light blanket of white. “It’s so beautiful. They say this is the first snow to fall in Avall since before the Pact.”

“I’ve never seen it snow here before,” Will agreed.

“The Pact and the fae in Avall changed its whole climate from a cold wasteland to temperate paradise. Clara says people are taking the snow as a bad omen, that too many fae are dying or gone, and Avall is reverting to the harsh land it used to be.” Memory paused to try and catch a snowflake on her tongue.

Will stared out into the hunting grounds where he used to spend more time. Memory wondered if he was thinking about Mina, or the other fae he knew. She wondered whether they were slowly dying as well.

“I think it’s the iron,” Will finally said.

Memory nodded slowly, frowning. “I’ve been thinking that too. The rest of the world is so rich with iron, and Avall has barely any now, not even raw iron ore. They had to get rid of iron for the fae, but they’ve screwed themselves over by doing it. It’s like the rest of the world is one huge magnet and Avall is a tiny magnet and the huge magnet is sucking away and hogging all that hippy earth blood life force magic the fae live on. I’ve been hoping that I’m wrong, because what could we possibly do about it? We can’t take on the whole rest of the world. ‘Hey rest of the world, stop making steel and stealing our magic!’ Can you see that working? Nope.”

Will turned his back on the forest and looked at Memory. “Think about how fast industrialization is happening. It’s going to get worse. Faster and faster.”

“I’ve seen the flow of magic in the Veil. It’s like a tide, flowing out of Avall.” Memory stared at Will’s eyes, icy blue and rimmed in dark lashes, they seemed to belong in this weather, like a black branch covered in snow. He reached out and brushed a thumb across her mouth.

Memory drew in a shaky breath.

“Your lips are turning blue,” he said.

“I’m fine.”

“You always say that.”

“It’s always true.”

“Always?”

Did Will just step closer to me, or does he just suddenly feel a lot closer?
Memory had to tilt her head up to look at him. A snowflake hung in his earth-brown hair right beside his cheek. His gaze on her was intense. “Are you really okay, after losing Peirs, after almost losing Maeve? After those gaunts caught you?”

Memory shivered, and not due to the cold. Will knew her too well. She’d been telling herself she was fine, but the whole event had left her shaken. To be held down against her will was nearly more than she could bear. It brought back too much pain.

She began shaking her head, ready to say the words again.
I’m fine.

Will did step closer then and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her toward him. Memory gasped and hot tears flooded her eyes. They poured over her eyelids unchecked, darkening the thin fabric on Will’s chest where she pressed her face.

“Damn it,” Memory mumbled between sobs.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there. That I couldn’t stop them touching you.” Will’s breath warmed through her hair as he spoke.

“I don’t expect you to protect me all the time. I need to be able to look after myself.”

“I know. But I want to protect you.”

Memory clenched her fist around the cloth on Will’s back.