Memory's Wake Omnibus: The Complete Illustrated YA Fantasy Series

by Selina Fenech

  He’d sent them the wrong way.

  Roen put his fist into the ground. The plan had been simple; if you can’t run, you hide. He couldn’t run, and he’d led them straight out into the open, to a main road, on which early morning travelers already moved about. Farmers on carts passed, and women with massive baskets balanced on hips walking produce into town. They couldn’t go back; there might be people chasing after them. He wasn’t even sure he could stand up again. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t protect the Princess, not even that.

  “Where are we?” Eloryn asked, walking toward the carved dirt road.

  “Stay back in the forest, someone might see!” said Roen, struggling to control his emotions.

  Roen licked broken lips, the tangy taste of blood focusing his mind as he got his bearings. He’d gone too far west, taking them straight back to the road and open woods instead of through the thick, concealing forest. Small consolation being it was the right road.

  Eloryn and Memory remained waiting under the trees. Roen walked back to them, the pain from the decision he made engulfing the pain from his beating.

  “This road will lead to Kenth, where you’ll meet with the Wizards’ Council. Take the token and run until you can no longer, then keep going as fast as you can. Watch the road for direction but keep hidden from it. Any help I can provide you is outweighed by the risk of my slowing your down. I’ll stay, and if we’re followed I’ll do what I can to stop them reaching you.” Roen pulled the silver disc from a concealed pocket and held it out to Eloryn.

  “I can heal you,” Eloryn said, without trying to take the coin.

  “It will take too long.”

  “I’m not much faster being shoeless,” Memory added.

  “Try to be. She needs someone with her.” Roen moved forward and pressed the coin into Eloryn’s hand. The softness of her skin stung him. He pulled away as soon as she held the token.

  “Screw that for a plan,” Memory said, marching out onto the roadway.

  “Mem?” called Eloryn.

  “No, stop!” Roen saw what Memory had seen just a moment after her. A horse and covered wagon were being driven up the road from the south, and Memory jogged straight for it, arm waving. It was too late, the wagon pulled to a stop beside Memory.

  When Roen caught up to her she already pleaded with the lady in the high driver’s seat.

  “…were attacked. They took all our money, but if you can give us a ride, anywhere close to Kenth, you can have his sword. It’s made of gold or something.”

  “Can I see it?” The gaunt woman peered down, tucking bushy grey hair behind one ear. A second pair of big eyes and small hands poked out through a half closed window behind her.

  “Sorry Roen, it’s all we’ve got.”

  Roen frowned and slid the thin knife from his boot where he’d tucked it after the fight. She was right, it was the only thing of worth he had, but this blade was almost like a part of him, and indeed valuable; not just for what it was made of, but also for the quality in which it had been forged. It was the only thing of value he’d ever taken for himself.

  He held it up to be seen.

  “Electrum, nice, nice. All you have, hey? Look, I can see you’re a fine type of folk, and can see you’ve had trouble. You put that away. No payment needed. We’re heading past there regardless. Come in, be our guests,” said the woman. Her face, more sun-worn than old, crinkled when she smiled at Memory. She knocked at the shutters behind her and they opened. “Let them in, Bonny. My daughter,” she told them. A girl of seven or eight years old poked her head out and grinned through a set of lost front teeth. She disappeared again into the dark of the wagon only to pop back out eagerly at the larger back door.

  “Lory, come on!” Memory called out.

  “This is dangerous, for them as well as us,” Roen whispered.

  “Yeah and I don’t like the alternatives, so let’s go.”

  The wagon creaked as they climbed up onto the high first step and through the door.

  It seemed bigger on the inside, awash with drifting fabrics. Bookshelf balanced over mantel which balanced over stove. Plush cushions made mountains on lounges upholstered on top of shelves and drawers. Everything impossibly stacked into the round roofed space. A bed of velveteen covers stood waist height at the end, beneath the peephole window to the driver’s bench up front. Perched on top, Bonny grinned at them, bouncing on the mattress. Her patchwork dress was the perfect camouflage within the gaudy room.

  Roen climbed in last. Memory squeezed up onto the bed next to the brown eyed child. Eloryn sat on a padded seat not quite big enough for two. He stayed standing and Bonny knocked on the wood between her and her mother. The wagon lurched forward. Roen swayed with the movement and thumped his shoulder against a bookshelf. He breathed through the moan of re-awakened pain.

  “Please sit down.” Eloryn shifted as far as she could to one side of the upholstered bench.

  Bonny stuck her tongue between her missing teeth. “I love it when we get visitors. It’s always so much fun.”

  The wagon knocked from side to side and Roen’s legs refused to keep him up. He lowered himself next to Eloryn. His shoulder pressed against her no matter how he tried to shift his position. Eloryn pulled her arms into herself, and stared at the floor. The hair tumbling around her face didn’t hide the red on her cheeks.

  I can’t believe I let myself kiss her. After purposely getting her drunk no less. They were just meant to have enough to stay asleep in the room while I got the flute. I wanted to make things better, and I only made them worse. She’s not just some tavern wench I can have my way with, no matter how I feel. Roen dug his fingers into his thighs.

  “By the Winter King, you look bad. Not very good at keeping yourself safe, huh?” Bonny’s eyes glinted as she stared at Roen.

  Roen opened his mouth, but Memory was already talking.

  “Hey, how about I show you a trick?” Memory reached to the girl’s ear and seamlessly pulled out a leaf. Roen wondered for a moment where she’d gotten it from, remembering the leaves on the ground behind his home that felt so far away. Then, through his pain bleary eyes he realized Memory still had dead leaves caught throughout her hair and dress from her tussle on the forest floor.

  Bonny snorted. “Oh, come on! You know, you smell bad.”

  A knock on the window shutters had the girl sighing. The mother’s shrill voice called through, making Roen wince. “Bonny, come out here and leave our guests in peace.”

  “Fine.” She gave Memory a skeptical look, and then slipped through the window on her belly, closing it behind her.

  “Fun kid,” said Memory, eyebrows raised. “But not a bad way to travel is it?”

  “I still don’t like this,” said Roen.

  “Better than leaving you behind. I just don’t think we should leave anyone behind, for whatever reason.” Memory pulled her legs up and wedged her back amongst the cushions, turning her face away.

  “We have time, now,” Eloryn said to Roen in a quiet voice.

  “Time?”

  “I can heal the damage those brutes did to you.”

  “No, don’t. I’m all right.” The wagon shook and Roen winced. Eloryn’s eyes flicked up to his face, clear sympathy filling them.

  “If you only don’t wish me to because-”

  “Too much risk of our hosts seeing,” Roen whispered.

  “I’ll keep watch,” Memory volunteered from amongst the pillows.

  Beset, Roen gritted his teeth.

  Eloryn’s voice was quiet but firm. “If you’re worried for my safety, then worry that without you well I would suffer more.”

  He didn’t want her to have to do this for him. He was supposed to be helping her, not the other way around. But she was right. How he was now, he was useless to her. But it still hurt to hear her say it, to know that was the only reason she bore his company. “Very well, what do I do?”

  “Just be still and relax,” Eloryn said. She raised a hand to hi
s forehead and his chest and placed them feather soft on his skin. Roen saw the color rise through her face and his body tensed.

  Eloryn snatched her hands away, then looked at him with a pained expression before starting again. “Please try and relax.”

  “Is this what you did for me?” Memory asked sitting forward to watch.

  Eloryn nodded, and began whispering magical words to Roen’s body. Roen felt the air rush out of him and his eyes glazed.

  A clattering bump bounced Roen’s chin against his chest and he opened his eyes. He wondered why his body was numb, then realized it was just the absence of pain. Eloryn watched him from close at his side. Her skin looked paler than normal, showing soft purple shadows under jade irises. The sympathy in her expression remained. His own eyes dropped away from hers, running down her neck and resting on the thin red line across her chest. The deep slash cut by Memory’s knife had closed, but the blood it spilt still stained the gold front of Eloryn’s dress. Eloryn shifted in her seat, and Roen looked back up to see her staring, mouth slightly open in a confused look. Roen cursed internally, realizing where he’d just been staring, and turned his gaze away into the rest of the cabin.

  “Have I been asleep? How long?” Roen looked around, re-gathering information into a no longer woozy mind. The wagon interior was as he remembered, but now no light showed through the gaps around the wooden door.

  “It took some hours. We weren’t interrupted. Do you feel better?”

  Roen rolled his shoulder, stretched out his back and nodded. He felt great, at least his body did, anyway. His clothing and mind were still in ruins. Roen looked to Memory, sleeping fitfully on the bed, woken when they hit another large bump in the road.

  “Thank you. I’m glad you took a moment to heal yourself also.” Roen’s voice sounded rough even to his own ears. He tried to cover it by continuing to talk. “Can’t be much farther till we’re there if it’s night already.” Roen stood up, steadying himself with a hand on the ceiling. He opened the smaller window in the back door of the wagon and peered out.

  It was past dusk. A blacker air surrounded them, helped by mammoth trees growing up on either side of the rough trail they rode. This wasn’t the main road to Kenth. A wagon shouldn’t even be driven on a track like this.

  Roen took three stalking steps to the front of the wagon, pots and pans clattering on shelves beside him. He climbed up past Memory and opened the front window.

  “How’s the driving?” he asked in a cheery voice.

  “Just taking a short cut. Not long now.” The woman and her daughter sat side by side on the bench in front of him. The girl absently carved into the wood of the bench with a sharp fingernail. Roen smiled and nodded and closed the window again.

  He swore under his breath.

  “Mem, Eloryn, I think our ride should end here. I don’t think they are taking us where we asked,” he whispered.

  Memory shrugged, groggy from sleep, but nodded to his suggestion as though she expected trouble as the norm. Eloryn looked drained but stood up right away.

  Roen lifted his finger to his lips and silently unlatched and swung the back door. It opened to the darkness of the track growing smaller behind them. The wagon moved slowly, hindered by tree roots and rubble. He pointed out, and took Memory’s hand as she stepped off.

  She dropped out the moving doorway onto the ground and tumbled over herself. The sound of the wagon creaking and rattling covered her swearing. Roen lifted Eloryn down next, trying to judge the movement better this time. Eloryn wobbled when her feet hit the dirt, but didn’t fall. Roen stepped off easily, took them each by a hand and started sneaking them back down the path in the woods.

  The wagon came to an abrupt stop. Roen turned back, and saw Bonny perched like a grotesque on the rounded rooftop.

  Her brown eyes had turned black to the edges. Her skin now gray; it darkened toward her mouth, now a gaping hole of sharp teeth.

  “Don’t go. We don’t get our prize if you go,” she howled in a disturbing imitation of the child’s voice.

  “Banshee?” Eloryn gasped to Roen.

  “Unseelie fae, one way or another,” he nodded. “Keep running.”

  The mother figure appeared in front of them. The magical glamour that hid her true form was gone as well. She seemed bonier than before, taller than any of them. Her eyes were also black, teeth menacing, and bushy hair knotted with tiny bones.

  “Just stay back,” Roen warned, drawing his pale golden blade against them. “You’re not in your rights to hurt us. You would be breaking the Pact.”

  “Pact, ha! You agreed to come with us, agreed to be ours!” the woman sang at them with a thirsty smile, unworried by the sharp weapon aimed at her.

  Roen knew electrum wasn’t much use against the fae, that if he made a move before them, he’d be at fault under the Pact, at risk of being Branded, but he held the blade steady regardless. The banshee tricked and manipulated just like all the Unseelie, finding loopholes in the Pact that governed their behavior so that they could satisfy their dark cravings.

  “We spoke no agreement.” Eloryn stepped forward. “I will Brand you if I must.”

  “Can’t Brand if we don’t touch. Come with us! She just wants the magic ones. We’re not going to bite, we’re going to get a prize!” Bonny, or whatever her name truly was, bounced on the wagon’s roof.

  “Who?” Roen grunted, confused.

  Bonny laughed in a tinkling, ear-piercing crescendo.

  Roen heard the flick of Memory’s knife opening and she moved beside him.

  The mother leapt back.

  “What is that? How do you have that?” she spat.

  The knife shook in Memory’s hand.

  “Cold dead iron. I told you she smelled of it. But I’m not scared, I’m not scared!” The girl-like dark fae leapt from the wagon roof, imitating flight, and landed between Memory and banshee mother. Bonny thrust a grey-skinned hand at Memory, as though she meant to swat the blade from her hand. Yelping, Memory slashed the knife, tracing the smallest line across the girl’s arm.

  Bonny’s eyes bulged. She howled. The point where the blade had touched her arm steamed and hissed and she threw herself onto the ground in fits, screaming vicious curses. The mother hunched over her.

  “Pact? Pact! You are the ones who break the Pact!” she screamed wildly. She lunged at them, but the thrashing girl cried out and she stepped back beside her, baring her teeth.

  Roen grabbed Memory and Eloryn again by the hands. Mournful howling filled the night as he dragged them away through the moonlit trees.

  Chapter Nineteen

  They hobbled into Kenth under a cover of dismal clouds. A light wind lifted dry leaves in a dance around their feet. Eloryn had spoken with trees and earth in the forest to find their way, and they walked through the whole night. The effects of the poison in Eloryn had long passed, but pushing herself to heal Roen and lack of sleep left her spark of connection barely alight.

  Her feet ached in her torn satin slippers. She wondered how Memory’s, completely bare, must be feeling.

  The small town huddled like a flock of sheep at the base of wooded hills. The houses were all half crumbled walls built of a dark stone from the nearby mountains, and thatched in patchy straw when they still had roofs. It was secluded, ghostly, and completely deserted.

  “Sure this is the place?” Memory asked.

  “Where better to hide than a dead town?” said Roen.

  “Dead? Creepy much?”

  “Dead of the fae. There are none here anymore.”

  “Isn’t that a good thing? They seem sort of nasty,” said Memory.

  “Good or bad, the fae are what bring prosperity to the world. They leave, and you end up with land like this.” Roen tilted his head to the cracked, empty fields and wilted trees. “We’ll know soon if this is the right place.”

  Roen walked forward again, leaving the girls a few steps behind. Tension strung his shoulders tight. Eloryn had traced over the strai
n there in her healing, feeling it like a weight he’d carried too long, one she couldn’t heal but a burden she’d added to immeasurably.

  He’d been silent almost the entire night.

  Eloryn sighed and followed. They headed down the main street of the ghost town toward a well in the centre of a small square at the other end. Dark woods backed the view like an image from one of her fairytale books.

  “What are we meant to do here?” Memory asked when Roen stopped at the well. She circled the ancient structure of moss covered stone and aged bronze woven in floral motifs.

  “We make a wish. May I have your knife?” Roen held out his hand and pulled out the coin token with the other. Eloryn had given it back to him during the night, a gesture of her trust, but it didn’t seem to please him at all. He took it like a further weight to carry.

  Memory passed her knife over. “As long as I get it back.”

  Roen pulled it open and brought it up in front of his eyes, turning it around. Flicking the blade with his thumb, he glanced at Memory but said nothing, just started scratching into the back of the coin. The knife carved easily through the silver surface.

  “Lanval’s contact told me to write a message on the coin,” Eloryn said, “and drop it in this well. Then the Council should come to us. It’s a special coin made by the resistance, showing the Maellan crest, but minted after Thayl came to rule.” She wondered what exact wording Roen used in the message, but didn’t dare question him.

  Memory sat down on the wide rim of the well with an odd look of satisfaction. Eloryn joined her.

  “Mmm. Sitting,” Memory said.

  Roen tossed the coin down the well’s mouth and they watched with held breaths. No sound came to tell them it had reached a bottom.

  Eloryn smiled a little at the setup. “A magical interception. Coins dropped here must go straight to the Council.”

  “Wow, communication system and form of income in one. These guys are smart.”

  “Now you wait.” Roen wiped off the blade and handed it back to Memory. She kept it in her hand, flicking and fidgeting with it.