Memory's Wake (8 page)

This was the most content she’d ever felt, she thought wryly. She lay back in the warm water, letting the aches and tiredness seep out of her. She felt she could just sit in there for hours, until she remembered she wasn’t alone in the room. She was in a house full of strangers where she wasn’t welcome. She sighed and lifted her head back out of the water.

Her lazily opening eyes snapped wide with horror. Simple confusion blurred with possible nightmare. The white bath water had turned a sickening black. She screamed, she couldn’t help herself. Eloryn woke with a start. Memory splashed about, trying to pull herself from the tub. She managed to slip over the side and fall onto the floor behind the bath just before Roen, Isabeth and Brannon ran into the room.

She cowered behind the bath while they stared at the water and then at her. Isabeth rushed across and draped a blanket over her.

Memory stuttered, “The water, it just turned black. I don’t know what happened.”

Isabeth wiped some dripping water from Memory’s shoulder and showed her the color. “Your hair has a dye in it, that’s all. It’s washed out in the tub.”

Memory couldn’t help but feel ashamed at the tone in which Isabeth told her this, as if she was a simple child. Her panic felt laughable. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know it was dyed.”

“You two, out!” Isabeth snapped at her husband and son. Roen, who had been averting his eyes, moved quickly to hide a spreading grin. Brannon followed along at a slower pace, a war of glances shared between him and his wife.

Isabeth started drying Memory off, and she was too taken aback to protest. “How could you not know, child? It’s your own hair.”

Memory started to talk, but Eloryn shook her head at her. This wasn’t missed by Isabeth, who briskly finished drying Memory and dropped a billowing chemise down over Memory’s head, leaving her to find her own way through the expanse of fabric into the arm holes.

“I know it’s not a noble thing to pry but I got barely a word out of this one,” she said, sticking her chin out toward Eloryn. She rested fists on her thin hips, her voice scolding. “Roen told us who he thinks you are. True or not we could trust you both more and help you more if you would talk to us.”

Eloryn didn’t lift her eyes to meet Isabeth’s as she asked, “And what do you think of what Roen believes?”

Isabeth softened a little, the slightest tilt to her head. “I think you are two hurt, frightened girls who need our help. It would be my greatest wish to see a child of Loredanna’s alive and well. I’ve hoped it for the longest time but was never so foolish to imagine the heir would just walk through my door.”

Eloryn choked on a tiny sob, her eyes still downcast. “I have.”

Chapter Seven

Isabeth’s hands rose to her mouth.

Tears flowed down Eloryn’s cheeks, and she slumped forward where she sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for sitting here silent while you’ve given us all your help. I couldn’t even give you the honors of your rank. Grand Duchess, I’ve been so rude. You must know that I can’t, I shouldn’t tell anyone. Even my being here is putting you at risk, but I just don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do on my own.”

“Oh, child!” Isabeth wrapped her arms around Eloryn and held her as she sobbed.

The details fell into place in Memory’s head. No joke, Eloryn really was a princess. A real goddamned princess on the run. Daughter of a King and Queen who were killed for their throne by some bad man who makes people poor and cuts their arms off.
Blah blah wars, blah blah Thayl, hunters, hiding and terror.
Had Eloryn lied to her about why those men chased them? What else had she lied about?

I don’t know what to do on my own.
Eloryn’s words made her face burn. She didn’t matter at all. The girl with no memories and no use to anyone. In competition with a princess, why would any of them help her?

Isabeth called out to Brannon and Roen. She nodded to them over Eloryn’s head, stroking her hair.

“Hush child.” Isabeth rocked Eloryn ever so slightly. “You are doing fine. By the fae, you are alive! That’s a greater thing than many even dared hope for.”

“But how?” Brannon moved in closer, crouching on the floor in front of them.

“Wizard Councilor Alward saved me, raised me.” Eloryn’s sobbing slowed and she worked at wiping her face dry. “He was known before as Pellaine.”

Isabeth and her husband nodded in comprehension. “We saw… Well, never mind what we saw just now. But we had reason to hope Pellaine had escaped, that Loredanna’s baby had been saved.”

Memory’s nose wrinkled. She watched Isabeth fussing over the princess. Her heart ached, imagining a mother of her own out there somewhere, worrying about where she was and wanting to hold her while she bawled her eyes out like that.
I have to find my way back to my mother, my family, my home.

No one flocked to help or console her. Why would they with a princess in the room?
Whatever, deal with her problems. I’ll be fine on my own.
Like a ghost, she drifted out the doorway, through the kitchen, unbolted the small back door and walked out.

What the hell am I supposed to do now?
She breathed deeply through a bout of panic, staring into the night. A forest backed the cottage, dark and imposing as though the house had been built in the open and the forest had marched right up to it like an army. A bitter vanilla fragrance wafted to her from a vine curling up around the back door, its white flowers still open at night.

A crisp cold settled on her skin. Too cold to be sulking and smelling the flowers. She swore at the pettiness that drove her out there alone, not even knowing where she’d go next. She pulled the chemise back up onto her shoulders where it didn’t like staying, and hugged her arms around her chest. The cold bit at her and she considered going and sulking in the kitchen near the hearth.

Something moved high in the dark branches of the trees in front of her, catching her eye. Humming stars hovered still then zipped from place to place. She could see no detail, only beautiful, mesmerizing points of light. Each one glowed in vivid hues that shifted through a rainbow of color, blue into green, yellow into orange, red into purple. She took a step closer and they jumped away from her, a startled school of fish shimmering in the trees.

A voice shocked Memory, jolting her focus away from the lights.

“There must be something special about you.”

She turned to see Roen had joined her outside. How long had he been there? She hadn’t heard him come out.

“Making friends with a Princess and attracting sprites.” He stepped up next to her, pointing into the trees. “They’re so rare to see these days. It’s like they’ve come here for you.”

Memory snorted. “More like they came for Eloryn. She’s the special one, right?”

Roen laughed an honest, easy laugh. “And you just met her yesterday! Had you ever imagined just stumbling upon the Maellan Princess?”

Memory sobered up quickly. He caught her mood and his laughing stopped.

“So nothing’s been said then, about me?”

Roen frowned and shook his head.

“Not that I’d expect it, what with everything. I guess my problems aren’t exactly the priority.”

“No, not really,” Roen said. She was about to tell him where to stick his priorities when he continued. “But you can tell me anyway.”

Memory gaped, lost on where to start. “I can’t… remember anything.” She felt stupid now saying it out loud. “Before yesterday. Before waking up and meeting Eloryn and just running ever since, I have no memories.”

Roen said nothing, only stared, his forehead furrowed crookedly. The intensity of his gaze brought an uncomfortable feeling rushing up through her chest. She kept talking to suppress the heat rising in her face. “Eloryn said it might be caused by this weird magic thing that happened. She said she’d help me, so I just went with her, but she never told me who she was...”

“And now you don’t think she will help you?”

“Why would she? Why would any of you? I just need to find some way to get my memories back so I can go home.”

Roen stood silent for a while, then said, “If I were you, right now, I’d stick close to the person who has offered you their help, despite their own troubles, whether they can help you or not.”

“Are you talking about her, or you?”

Roen grinned.

“Thanks for that, by the way. I didn’t realize it would be such a big deal with your parents. I hope you’re not in too much trouble.”

“Trouble? I just brought home the missing Maellan heir. They’ve got nothing to complain about. Even just to know she’s alive has given them so much hope. If we can get the news to the resistance, it might be what they need to make some real change, get back some of what’s been lost.”

“There’s a resistance?”

“Oh, sorry. I’ll need to explain everything won’t I?” He laughed.

Memory opened her mouth wide and punched her fists onto her hips in exaggerated insult. “You can start by explaining why you’re out here bugging me instead of your beloved princess.”

Roen dropped his head. His caramel brown hair fell over matching tawny eyes. The colors in combination made him look like a statue made of gold. A sense of loneliness crept into his expression, hidden under the glossy facade.

Why would he be lonely? He has a home, a family.
Memory’s heart jittered, worried he might actually go back inside. She searched for something to say that would stop him from leaving her on her own again.

“You said about brothers before. They don’t live here too?”

“None of them still live. The five eldest died in the wars, and the sixth, well, he’s dead to us either way,” Roen said through half his mouth.

“Oh god, why is everything so horrible? Every single thing that’s happened.”

“Except meeting me, right? That isn’t turning out too bad,” Roen looked back up, smiling again in a way that creased his eyes. “Don’t worry for me, I barely knew my brothers. I was youngest of the lot by more than a few years. I don’t even know what it’s like to be a noble, except from what Mother and Father tell me.” Roen leant toward her and whispered as though sharing a secret. “When I was younger, Mother used to train me in noble manners. One day she just stopped. I guess she gave up thinking I would ever be a prince.”

Memory tried to smile in return, but her lips kept falling downwards.

Roen cleared his throat. “Enough about my family. I hope one day you can tell me about yours.”

“Do you think… my memories could just come back on their own?”

“They might. But better to stay amongst friends all the same.” Shaking his head, Roen leant on the wall near her and chuckled. “At least now I understand your odd name. Still don’t understand what you were wearing before.”

Memory turned away from him, staring at the strange magic of the tiny fairy creatures glowing in the trees.
How could they even be real? How could any of this?
Loss and confusion flooded over her. A sob shuddered up through her body and she caught it in her throat, swallowing it. She tensed to stop the tears that tried to escape.

“Hey, look here, what is that?” Roen stepped up in front of her. He stared at her ear, his face twisted in a strange half smile.

“What? What is what?” Memory released a worried giggle.

“Here, let me.” Roen reached toward her and pulled a large white flower from behind her ear.

Memory’s mouth opened wide again, this time in honest amazement. “How did you do that? How did that get there? Was that magic?”

Roen laughed so heartily it took a moment before he could talk again. “I can’t believe that worked! You really have no memory at all?” He wiped his eyes. “I’m sorry, normally that only works on children.”

His laughter was so good natured she couldn’t begrudge him for it, but put on her best pout, and asked, “Show me how to do it?”

“All right. But only because you need something to fill that head of yours. It’s simple really. Not magic at all. Just a bit of a distraction and a flick of the wrist.” He showed her the flower tucked behind his fingers then pulled a funny face, pointing at it with his other hand. “That’s the distraction.”

“Oh,” said Memory. “No wonder it only works on kids. Still, can I try?”