Memory's Wake Omnibus: The Complete Illustrated YA Fantasy Series (88 page)

Eloryn tucked the shard of speaking mirror away into a pocket. Her clothes were still stained with the black ichor of the vines they had fought through in Tearnan Ogh, and with her own blood. Her hair was loose, tumbling down to her hips in long tangled falls, and her scalp tingled as though the air was filled with static. She picked up the ends of her locks and rolled them into a knot at the back of her head, pushing damp strands clear of her face.
Memory is right. I can do this.
There were people who needed help, and she knew she could offer it.

Erec had returned a while ago and brought her news from the city. Unseelie fae were already in the streets, and there were reports that they were snatching any human they could find. Eloryn shivered.
The people must be so scared, without light, without magic, being hunted in the dark.

Erec remained in the room, silent and at attention with a small group of guards. Awaiting orders, but also there to protect her, Eloryn knew. Without Memory here, Eloryn was the only Maellan blood left to protect, not that she had any magic to show for it anymore.

Eloryn called order in the room and had the Council members take seats. Placing her hands on the repaired round table there hardened her resolve. She knew she had done that, repaired the ancient table from the splinters it had become after the explosion. If it could be fixed, maybe the shattered Pact, the breaking worlds, could also.

Eloryn sent Clara to fetch a book for her, then addressed the aged men. “I think you all heard what Memory said. I trust that she has a way to save us, but we must protect ourselves in the meantime however we can.”

One of the wizards cleared his throat. “We are helpless without magic. We know what happened, and we know it was not Memory’s fault, but what can we do against the fae? We’re nothing but old men now.”

“It is hopeless,” another muttered.

“You are not defined by your magic alone,” Eloryn said. “I am sure you have wisdom that can help us. When in hiding, Providence, or Nyneve rather, was sending unseelie fae to hunt down wizards as well, and yet you remained hidden from them for years. The fae see through glamour more easily than humans. How did you remain unfound?”

Bedevere’s eyes sparkled despite the dull expression on his face. “Clever child. You’re right, we used some of the old ways to ward against the fae, methods from before the Pact, methods that don’t require magic.”

Another councillor perked up, straightening his crumpled black and purple suit. “They were indeed effective. Kenth was chosen because there were only few fae there already but it was our wards that cleared them from the area entirely.”

“Could they work again here? Do we have what we need to create them?”

“I’m sure,” Bedevere said. “All we need is refined salt, and common herbs and branches wreathed into the right patterns.”

Roen called a guard beside the door over to them. “Get down to the kitchens and stores and see what we have on hand. Madoc, please go with him to provide a list.”

The wizard left, shuffling along at a hurry with the guard. Roen nodded at Eloryn again to continue, confidence in his eyes. It was contagious, and Eloryn felt it straighten her back and strengthen her voice.

“With these wards, we could make some safe areas, or even perhaps force the fae in the direction we wish,” she said.

Eloryn closed her eyes, trying to think tactically. If she were Nyneve, she would be using small armies across Avall to herd people up and imprison them in the long term, but would hit the city of Caermaellan first, it being the largest city and the largest concentration of people. They already knew that attack had begun.

Eloryn called Erec over. “Put out the word to arrange for all civilians in the city to either flee into the countryside or come here to the palace. Anyone who can fight, we want here. Every horse and carriage in the castle, send it out to help. We’re not going to let it be easy for Nyneve, just snatching up people off the streets. If she wants human blood, she will have to come to us. And we will fight her for it.”

Roen stood up beside them. “The militia that Hayes instituted could actually do some good. Send them a call to arms, too.”

Bedevere scratched the corner of his eye, his ever dour face solemn. “Even if we find many to fight with us, we have little hope against the fae without magic. Our weapons are but nuisances to them.”

Eloryn, however, was on a roll, enthusiasm building as she developed her strategy. “We have iron.”

Bedevere merely raised a bushy eyebrow.

“Quite a reasonable amount, which strangely enough you can thank Thayl for.” Eloryn raised her voice over the shocked whispers around the table. “We are facing a war against the unseelie fae, with no Pact and no Brandings. Iron is one of our only defenses. Erec, take some men to retrieve it. Roen can show you the way.”

Bedevere’s eyes were wide, a crooked smile on his mouth. “Full of surprises, you and your sister are. Just how much iron is there?”

“Not enough. Thirty, forty pieces at most but not any more than that. We might be able to split some larger pieces to spread it around more.”

“Forty pieces of iron is at least forty dead fae,” Erec replied, then turned to gather his men, delegating a range of orders through the group.

While he waited, Roen grinned largely up at Eloryn from his chair.

“What?” she asked.

“Just you. Don’t mind me, keep going, you’re doing splendidly.”

Eloryn grinned back, and Clara trotted into the room, holding a thick tome cradled against her chest.

“I hope this is the right book,” she said, and placed it on the table in front of Eloryn.

Eloryn ran her fingers over the worn blue-gray fabric of the spine and the embossed gold letters on the cover.

The Principles and History of Infantry Warfare.

The pages riffled below her fingers and her heart ached as she thought about the times that Alward had read this and other books with her. She spoke a silent thank you in her heart for all that Alward taught her.

The pages were a blur, the dim lighting too weak to see any detail on them.

Eloryn blinked and muttered, “Àlaich las.”

The words came to her from habit but her behest fell on deaf ears. Eloryn winced. It was so easy to forget her magic was gone, so natural to try and call light to her with a behest.

Roen chuckled. “Now you know what my life has been like. Still, I got by. Perhaps everyone might have to learn some tricks from me.”

Extending an arm, Roen flourished his fingers toward an unlit candle in front of him. The harsh whisper of them rubbing against his palm was followed by a loud burst of flame appearing and setting the wick quickly alight.

Eloryn gasped in surprise and delight, and then her eyes narrowed. “I don’t suppose you could reproduce that effect on a larger scale?”

“Planning to hire me as the official palace candle lighter? Because you should know my rates are costly.”

“Actually, I was thinking of something much bigger.” Eloryn smiled, and pulled the newly lit candle close to her book.

Finding the section she’d been seeking, she spun the book sideways so Bedevere could see the diagrams there. “Here. This is the strategy I think we should use.”

“Look at this,” Will said as Memory made it back to the computer.

Shonae’s eyes were wide, leaning back in her chair away from the screen as though it were a poisonous snake. The café was now almost deserted. Everyone had gone out on the sidewalks, staring up at the tumultuous skies. Some were openly weeping, holding onto their loved ones. The air was filled with the scent of blood and tingle of static, as if the air was charged with iron magic.

A few people snapped pictures on their digital devices, or just stood there, staring, faces caught in an expression of complete confusion.

Shonae said in a frightened whisper, “This is bad magic.”

Memory snorted. “A centuries old agreement between the humans and the fae being torn apart? Yeah. It’s bad magic all right… Oh, wait... You mean the computers, don’t you?”

Memory snorted and rolled another chair over, straddling it backwards. She looked over Will’s shoulder at the screen which showed current news. Half the world seemed to be experiencing the tremors, which were increasing in frequency and strength. Wild electrical storms, tornadoes and rising tides were striking all over, all apparently caused by a strange landmass appearing and disappearing in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. Avall.

“I saw Nyneve talk to Mina at the palace. I bet she had something to do with persuading Mina to take me away to Tearnan Ogh. I was just a distraction for you, a tool to lure you there. I'm so sorry,” Will said. “We have to get back to Avall and stop Nyneve.”

“You mean kill her,” Shonae said. “The only way to stop this is to kill her and hope her successor will want to restore the Pact and Avall’s place in the Veil.”

“I don’t want to kill her,” Memory said. “Killing can’t be the only option. I want peace and you don’t get to peace by walking over the bodies of people you kill.”

“Good luck with that,” Shonae said, sounding as human as she looked. “We are all going to die.”

Memory stared at the people on the street. What could she do to fix this? The flicker of an idea kept taunting her, but nothing was locking into place. She needed to know more.

Memory rolled her office style chair forward, bumping into Will. “Squidge over. I’ve got to check something.”

He slid across and she took control of the keyboard, tapping in her search string.

She talked as she typed and skimmed text on the pages that came up. “We already know that legends of King Arthur tie into Avall. Well, I’ve been thinking a lot about Caliburn, or Excalibur. I think it could help us.”

Memory pointed at the screen to an image of a man throwing a sword into a lake. “And I think I know where it is.”

Will only frowned. “Isn’t that a bit like saying you know where to find a talking harp based on reading
Jack and the Beanstalk
? I mean, how did the stories of Arthur continue on over here after Avall was separated off? How would anyone know?”

“Because some people crossed over. The fae kept doing their little import and export thing until the amount of iron over here became too much for them, and some wizards toying with Veil door magic tried to come through as well. People like….” Memory rolled the scroll button on the mouse, scanning her eyes over the words on the screen. “This guy. Galfridus Arturus. I know his name from my Avall history book. He’s a wizard who went missing maybe a century or two after Avall was pocketed away into the Veil.”

“And he stayed here, in this horrible place? Why didn’t he return to Avall?” Shonae asked.

“Unlike Thayl, nobody kept a door open for him,” Memory said.

“We don’t have anyone keeping a door open for us either,” Will pointed out. “And if I’m thinking what you’re thinking, Caliburn is back in Avall.”

“Yeah, it would have been almost impossible to get back before. With all the magic running out of Avall to here, trying to go back to Avall is like swimming against the tide. But since Avall is shifting through the Veil back into this world already, I don’t have to punch all the way through the Veil by myself. We might be able to just slip through.”

“Then we get Caliburn, and then what?”