Memory's Wake Omnibus: The Complete Illustrated YA Fantasy Series (29 page)

Memory turned to the brawling chaos of the hall. Seeing their King lying prone on the dais, more castle guards rushed at her.

“Stop!” she bellowed, in a voice loud enough to crack plaster scrolling from the walls.

Throughout the hall, fighters stumbled in shock. Some turned from their battles and were taken advantage of by those not distracted by the loud interruption.

“I said stop. Now. Everyone!” Words continued to flow from her, from Eloryn, feeding on the fire within her. She crumbled every blade, every piece of armor and metal held by men in the room.

The fighting stopped.

Men stumbled out of motion, confused. Despite wary glances to others around them, all attention turned her way. The small girl, standing over the defeated king, looked out at the sea of blood-spattered faces. She didn’t know which side was which. She didn’t think half of them knew either.

What now, Lory?

You know.

Memory pulled herself up straight and called out into the hall. “Thayl is finished. The Maellan heir is back. If you’re not happy with that you better get the hell out of here now.”

A brief moment of stillness passed then a third of the men in the hall turned and fled. They pushed away through the shell shocked crowd, running in blind panic. No one tried to stop them.

The remaining men turned to her with the look of awaiting their next order. A dozen or so pushed to the front, approaching her. She tensed, but they stopped below the dais and made the hand symbol she had seen Eloryn make. The resistance.

All eyes on her, Memory stuttered under the pressure. She pointed to Thayl. “Someone, come tie him up already.”

A wiry man with sweat soaked sandy hair came forward, scooping a dropped pair of manacles from the ground on his way. He gave her a short bow. “If you serve the Maellan heir, then I serve you. I am Peirs. I’m what you might call the leader of this mob, if they’ve ever been enough to lead.”

She nodded to the older man, swaying from the after-burn of adrenaline. “Thanks, for helping.”

Peirs shackled Thayl’s feet, shaking his head with an incredulous smile. “Thanks are all to you. A child who defeated this monster that no man could, and did it...” Peirs paused and his grin widened. “Single handed.”

One of Piers’ men threw him a tasseled rope from a nearby curtain. He tied it about Thayl’s arms. Thayl sat slumped and silent, eyes turned so far down they were almost closed. His body quaked with visible tension. No longer a monster. Just a man now.

“It wasn’t just me.” Memory looked out into the unfamiliar crowd and stepped off the dais.

Peirs began calling out orders and all guards within the room looked to him. Faces all around, but no one she knew. The room was thick with people but they cleared a path for her, letting her through.

Through the murmurings and movement she heard Roen’s voice, pleading. She picked up her pace. A crowd of wizards huddled in the back corner of the hall. She ran up to them but they didn’t move for her as the rest of the room did.

She clawed through between them, pushing through despite their shocked exclamations.

In their midst, Roen knelt over the top of Eloryn. He bent down with his forehead on hers, hands on her shoulders, lifting and shaking her. “El, please,” he whispered, his voice strangled.

Hayes knelt beside him, holding Eloryn’s wrist, feeling for a pulse. He tried to move Roen out of the way and Roen pushed him back with a grunt, slamming the older man against the wall. He turned back to Eloryn, pulling her up into his arms.

“Stop this madness and let me see to her!” Hayes spat.

Memory knelt next to Roen and caught his eye. She put her hand on his, uncurled his fingers from a tight fist, and gave him a timid smile. His head tilted and he stared, all grief and confusion. He blinked, taking in who she was, and moved away from Eloryn without hesitation.

Hayes tried to take his place and Roen forced him back with his whole body. “Not you.”

Eloryn was deathly white. Memory smiled wryly. “I hope you know what you’re doing, sleeping beauty.”

She lowered herself down. Her blonde hair draped into her sister’s and she kissed her on the forehead.

A breathless moment stretched until Memory’s chest ached. Eloryn’s body gave a terrifying shudder. Green eyes opened. Eloryn blinked and her natural pink returned to her cheeks.

“There she is, back where she should be,” Memory said.

“I knew you could do it,” Eloryn propped herself onto her elbows. Her head hung weakly but she smiled.

“Smart ass,” Memory muttered. She shifted back off her knees and helped Eloryn up. “We did it.”

Memory heard a shaking breath pour out of Roen. She smiled at him with a pouting bottom lip. He stared back blankly.

Released by Roen, Hayes dusted his black and purple suit down emphatically and turned his attention to Eloryn.

“Waylan, Bors, Madoc, see to guarding Thayl. The rest of you help Peirs getting this rabble under control,” Hayes said, taking Eloryn’s hands out of Memory’s as though she needed further support.

Eloryn straightened up, nodding to someone across the hall. Memory followed her gaze and saw Yvainne tipping her head in return. Her form already grew transparent. Her eyes turned to Memory in a cold glare like a warning before she disappeared.

The grey flock broke apart, each taking a moment to bow to Eloryn before moving away.

Throughout the room, order became visible again. Men grouped into rows. Some rows moved across the floor, where bodies blended red with the carpet, aiding and clearing as they went.

Memory felt a dull weight form in her as she stared at the bodies.
Did I do right? Would more have died if the fighting began while Thayl still had magic?
A deep exhaustion filled her, every muscle spent and aching. She swallowed away the feeling and searched her gaze over every corner of the room.

“Where’s Will?”

Roen’s face had locked back into a frown. He lifted a hand to her face, and wiped his thumb gently beside her mouth, fingers lingering on her cheek. When he pulled it away it was red with blood. He spoke quietly. “Lost him for most of the fight, but when everything stopped I saw him drag himself out through a window.”

“He didn’t stay? Was he OK?” Memory asked in a squeak. Her own hand came up and cupped her cheek involuntarily. It didn’t hurt. The blood wasn’t hers.

“Injured, but didn’t seem too badly. He’s a strong one. Shackles gone with the rest of the metal.” Roen’s lips twisted to the side, not really a smile. “I don’t think he likes to be seen by so many people.”

Memory nodded unenthusiastically.

Hayes still held Eloryn by a hand, and put another in the middle of her back, leading her away. “It’s a miracle you survived, your Highness. Such a reckless plan from that girl. But we finally have success against the tyrant Thayl. Now we can work together on ensuring our future and that of the kingdom.”

Eloryn pulled away from him. “Wizard Councilor Hayes, I’m sorry I have left you uninformed, but that girl is my twin sister. Maellan heir as much as I.”

Memory smiled at him when he turned to her in shock. She considered poking out her tongue, but decided against it.

“Her appearance; I thought it some magic ploy, a part of her plan. Her interaction with Thayl... Don’t play tricks. Tell me how it can be so?”

Eloryn sighed, looking to Memory and Roen as she talked. “Hayes, we thank you for the help you’ve given us, and have trust in you for the help you’ll continue to provide. I know this is only the beginning for what must be done for Avall, but please understand, we’ve been through more than you can imagine. Indulge us our whims a little longer. There will be time for it all later.”

Hayes glowered for a moment, then bowed his head. “And what is it time for now, Your Highness?”

“Highnesses,” Eloryn corrected.

“Highnesses.”

“Mem, what is it time for now?”

Memory looked across the room to a wide arch window. Warm rays of morning light spilled in, bringing a contentment too overpowering to fight. She smiled at Eloryn. “It’s time for bed.”

Peirs gave priority to assigning the best of his men to the care of the twins. Ten men led Memory, Eloryn and Roen through the castle to their requested destination.

They walked silently down long corridors lined with suits of armor and tall stained glass windows. Memory gawked openly. She wished she had a camera then reminded herself this was her home now.
Home.
Servants gossiped together at a distance and stared at the passing escort. Some bowed and kneeled. No one gave them any trouble.

They reached wide double doors at the end of a corridor that had been chained closed. The largest guard dispatched the padlock with a sharp blow from the hilt of his sword. This part of the castle had been closed off, but they continued through the uncared for hallways over tattered carpets, up stairs with creaking, dusty banisters.

They stopped at a doorway carved with roses and painted ivory white. Memory ran her hand over the designs, feeling them smooth and glossy under her fingers. The paint here was not cracked or chipped. It smelled fresh. She put her hand around the cold brass handle and turned, clicking the latch.

The guards took up position, flanking either side of the door.

Memory motioned to Eloryn, who stepped through into Loredanna’s chambers.

Memory followed her in. No dust settled on the fine pale furniture and silken upholstery. Nothing was torn or blemished. Jewelry and hairbrushes were laid out on the dresser as though their mother had used the room yesterday. It didn’t have the appearance of a room recently cleaned, but one that had always been well looked after.

Above a chaise lounge hung a life size portrait of Loredanna in a thick, ornate frame. It showed her not much older than her daughters, dressed for coronation in all finery, including the Maellan crested medallion.

The room smelt of soap and roses, and Memory brushed her hand over the petals of a fresh cut bunch beside the bed.

Memory thought back to how Thayl had held her when she walked into his dream rose-garden, when he thought she was her mother. Although the thought still made her skin crawl she suddenly wished she had reacted in some other, unknown way.

She coughed lightly. “At least it’s clean in here.”

Eloryn stood in the doorway, staring in only. She nodded, eyebrows pinched as she shared looks with her twin. Roen hadn’t crossed the threshold.

Memory drifted back to them.

Roen shifted on his feet. He hadn’t said a thing since telling her about Will, and he seemed to be having trouble again now. He leant in closer to them, whispering low, “I worry for trusting your safety to these strangers.”

Memory giggled at him, tilting her head. “What would you worry for? We’re safe now, we did it. The three of us are unbeatable, and everyone knows it.” She raised her voice cheekily at the end.

Roen’s mood didn’t crack. “I won’t be staying.”

Memory’s head snapped back up straight, and she furrowed her eyebrows deeply as though doing so would let her read his mind.

Eloryn stammered, “But, you said you wouldn’t…”

“You’re safe now. I’m going back to my parents, back to-” He faltered, and cleared his throat. “Maerranton. I don’t belong here.”

Roen turned his head down and to the side, caramel hair falling down over his eyes.

Memory opened her mouth in outrage, but Eloryn spoke first. “Of course you have a place here, you and your parents. Their titles will be reinstated. They will be returned to court with the highest honors for all of what they gave.” She shook her head at him. “Even if you weren’t already a Prince, you’d have earned the title.”

Roen’s shoulders shuddered, and a tear rolled off his cheek and splashed onto the floor.

Quicker than thought, Memory lashed her arms around him in a crushing bear hug. He put his head down into her shoulder, soaking it silently, and squeezed her back with bruising strength.

Eloryn breathed raggedly next to them. Memory pried an arm off Roen and reached for her. One of Roen’s arms loosed too, shaking, reaching out. Eloryn stepped into them and the three wrapped around each other tightly.