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

by Selina Fenech

Memory took a step closer to the dragon. His scales were patchy, missing in places, moldering. “Dragon, are you dying?”

  “We are all dying. You already know that.” The words held no bitterness. He extended a claw so carefully toward Shonae, scooping her arms onto it and raising her back to her feet.

  Shonae shivered slightly, staring with round black eyes at the dragon, but she kept her fingers wrapped around his claw as though holding hands. Shonae looked so healthy, so alive, that it was hard to understand for Memory that she could be dying. Much like most of the fae. But seeing the dragon like this made the truth suddenly sink in.

  The dragon tilted his head and Memory wondered how many of her thoughts he had access to. “My time is less due to my size. I need more magic to sustain me than the little ones. But eventually all of this will end.”

  “I’ve been so selfish.” Memory shook her head, staring at her feet. “I am doing everything I can to save my friends but there are so many who need help. I should be doing more.”

  The dragon shifted, making a soft hushing sound in the shifting, glittered sand. “What does the fate of the fae matter to you? If you wish you can take your friends and go to the other lands. You can live there with the rest of the humans and never worry for the fate of Tearnan Ogh or Avall.”

  For a brief moment, Memory tried to imagine Eloryn and Roen adjusting to life in the modern world. Eloryn would probably love the internet. Could they live there happily? What about Erec, or Clara? Then there were Roen’s parents and Lanval. Maeve, and the orphans. Bedevere and the Wizards’ Council. The rest of the castle guards and staff. Memory’s thoughts spiraled out, larger and larger, reaching farther. The teachers and students at the university and finishing school. The people she saw on the streets of Caermaellan, Maerranton markets or Elder’s Bridge Inn. All the humans of Avall. Shonae… Aine, Nyneve, Lugh. All the shimmering sprites of the Seelie Court. The banshees and trolls and gaunts of the Unseelie Court. The dragon. Every creature in Avall and Tearnan Ogh. How could she abandon any of them? How could she pick and choose who would live?

  This entire world of the fae was passing into the shadows, and would take Avall with it. Avall had been created as a haven, but the constant drain of magic away to the rest of the world had wrought devastation on the fae, and it was only the fae that kept Avall habitable for the humans.

  “What can I do?” Memory’s words were a mere whisper.

  “I think you already know.”

  Magic. Life. Like a bonfire, burning me away from the inside.

  Memory nodded. Everywhere things and people were dying from a lack of magic. Could she give them hers? She took a deep breath, and reached to place a hand on the dragon’s cheek.

  “Dragon, would you let me gift you with some of my magic? I have more than I can ever use and it could save you.”

  His lips split, showing rows of razor tipped teeth, and a harsh gust of hot air rushed out along with a rumbling chuckle. “Oh you little human. No. I would not take your magic. It is too compressed into you, tangled up inside. Who knows what other human things I might get along with it?”

  The dragon leaned slightly into Memory’s touch, and Memory could feel the slow pulse of his life beneath his scales.

  “Besides, I am old. Older than you can imagine, human, and I am the last of my kind. Life is just a series of lonely days and nights. There is no joy in it, no thrill. My mate is now dead and without her there is no love, no way to ease the stifling boredom that is centuries piling on top of one another. I am better off dying, then I could fly free again with my mate and the others of my kind who have gone before me.”

  Having grown up believing dragons only to be a myth, the idea that Memory would discover they were real only to lose them again seemed too much to bear. It hurt to speak but she did. “Dragon, our worlds will not be the same without you.”

  “I agree.” The sly humor in the dragon’s voice was clear as it reverberated in Memory’s head. She smiled at the dragon as tears streamed down her cheeks. Will took and squeezed her hand and put his other on the dragon’s neck.

  “Be strong, small ones. The worlds need you. And you need help now, so let me help you. I will fly you to the Unseelie Court.”

  “You are not a beast of burden,” Memory said, reminding him of what he had once told her when she had a boon to request of him.

  “No, but the time for old rules has past. The good fight for themselves and their friends. The great fight for everyone.”

  Memory bowed her head.

  “I think you are worthy of a ride, or at least, one day, you will be,” the dragon quipped. His words were light, but Memory thought she saw something on his wizened face, some emotion so close to human sorrow that it cut her to the very core.

  Memory did not even bother to wipe away the tears that rolled down her cheeks. “I cannot thank you enough, Dragon.”

  The dragon laid himself low and Will helped boost Memory and Shonae up, then climbed up behind them. The dragon’s back was smooth despite the scales and scars. Shonae took the webbing she had collected from the spiders and wrapped it carefully around the three of them and then around the dragon’s neck. They sat in a row with Memory up front, Will behind her and Shonae clinging tightly at the rear.

  “For all the risk and danger you put me through on your journey,” Shonae snuffled, “perhaps it is worth it all, to fly on the back of a dragon.”

  Memory brushed her hands across the metallic black scales she sat on. Perhaps it is worth it all.

  The dragon shifted under her, and as he raised himself up Memory gasped at how high she was, there on his back. The tattered wings spread, lifted, and pushed downwards, creating mini-tornadoes of sparkling dust as they lifted off the ground. Memory had to close her eyes when they took off and her fear mounted as they soared over treetops and higher, until the ground had vanished below the clouds they rode through.

  Memory wasn’t sure the dragon would even have enough life left in him to get them safely to the Unseelie Court, but if he trusted her enough to let her ride, then she trusted him enough to try. Each dip and glide of the dragon’s wings sent her stomach swirling, and she had to crouch low against the scaly back to shelter from the rushing winds. The Rump of Steel-skin web that she clung to felt too silky and delicate to be her tether on this creature so far above the world. She knew too well what it felt like to fall.

  The warmth of Will’s body behind her was reassuring, and after a while her thoughts took her mind away from her fear of falling off the dragon’s back. Tearnan Ogh was dying, the creatures and people within it were dying, and there seemed to be no way to stop all of it. She could go back to the rest of the world if need be, and take her friends with her but what about all the other humans of Avall?

  How would any of the citizens of Avall survive in a world they had so long been separated from? Time had passed, and the old ways that stayed with Avall long gone. Cars and nuclear weapons had replaced swords and horses; people ate food from paper wrappers and flew in steel tubes across the sky. Would the people of Avall be able to withstand those changes without going mad?

  Maybe I should have helped educate people on the modern world, she thought tiredly. I should have done… anything. I should have… Crudmonkeys! What is the use in thinking of what I should have done when it is obvious I need to do something right now?

  But what?

  Memory knew even if she could take every human from Avall into the modern world, she couldn’t take any of the fae. They couldn’t stand the abundance of iron and steel there. What can I do to save this land and the fae and the dragon? How could one person save an entire world?

  She wanted to save it. As strange and weird and terrifying as Tearnan Ogh was, it hurt her to think of it disappearing forever.

  Memory wiped a tear away on her shoulder so it wouldn’t fly back and splash on Will or Shonae behind her, alerting them to her uncontrollable emotions.

  Will seemed to understand anyway. “Stop worryin
g. Just rest. You need it.” His breath tickled her ear and his hand stroked her back.

  He was right. She was beyond exhausted. They all were. Even the dragon swooped lower, floating on the updrafts and saving his waning energy.

  Memory’s head sagged to one side and her body relaxing into Will’s. His heart beat below his skin and she felt it echoing into hers as she fell asleep.

  “We are here,” Shonae said and Memory wished she did not hear the terror in her voice, wished she didn’t hear her at all, that she could have slept one hundred years and given up all her worries and responsibilities.

  But she knew no one else could do what needed to be done. And she was starting to understand what that was.

  Since Memory had slept, the world had grown darker, black like the mottled scales of the dragon they rode.

  The Unseelie Court came into view, a beacon of red fire light reflecting off dark crystal under the ebony dome of the sky.

  Please. Memory said a silent prayer to anything that would listen. Please just let my friends still be alive.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The dragon dipped suddenly and Memory felt her stomach float up into her throat.

  “How are you holding up?” she asked the dragon, hoping her voice, or at least thoughts, carried over the rushing winds for him to hear. “Are we okay for a landing?”

  “Tired.” The single word reply held a depth of emotion, the weariness of centuries.

  Memory placed her hand on the dragon’s neck, wishing she could do more for him. They soared toward the ground, lurching roughly through the air, and Memory tightened her thighs to steady herself.

  The dragon skimmed over a vast boundary wall, a shimmering fence of glistening black crystal woven like tangled tree roots. It seemed to sing as the air from their flight trailed through it. Reaching the inner courtyard of the castle, the dragon spiraled, slowing his descent as the unseelie fae in the area dashed for cover.

  They landed hard but stable. As the disturbed dust cleared, all around them Memory could see black-eyed faces peering up in awe.

  “You’ve made a big entrance, that’s for sure,” Will whispered into Memory’s ear.

  “Nice way to make an impression,” Memory agreed. “I only wish we had some kind of plan from this point on. I’m basically walking right into a trap. As usual.”

  “Just be yourself. Save your friends. It will work out.”

  Memory grunted an unsure agreement then threw her leg over the side and slid down off the dragon in what she thought was a remarkable display of not falling on her face.

  The dragon’s head was close by her as she turned back to see Will and Shonae follow her off its back. She smiled softly to the huge beast. “Thank you.”

  The dragon’s head dipped ever so slightly, and he poised to take flight again.

  His wings were even more tattered than before. They were riddled with tears and holes, his scales were dulled and flaking and she knew he had cost himself much of his life by flying them through the night the way he had. Sorrow filled her, but before she could say anything else the dragon pushed down his wings and lifted into the sky.

  Whispers blended with the sound of the dragon’s flight. Hushed words buzzed around Memory and her friends as they stood in the middle of the grand courtyard, right on the steps of the Unseelie Court’s castle, surrounded by curious onlookers. Two humans had come to the court on the back of a dragon, accompanied by a young unseelie fae. Strange things were afoot and everyone wanted to know what they meant.

  Memory looked up at the castle and tried to draw on her well of courage and found it almost dry, already consumed from constant use. Shouldn’t it get easier, being brave? Why do I always have to dig deeper?

  The castle itself was similar to the Seelie Court, if anything more organic and flowing in its lines and design. Darker colors were used, but they made a rich, warm impression rather than the haunted house of terror Memory had been expecting. But she knew that the terror lay inside.

  She forced her feet to move, and to the main entrance they went.

  Guards met them. The tallest of them stood in their path, a fairy gold spear held firmly in his hand. He, and the dozen guards behind, all wore the same high gloss black armor as the soldiers who had stolen her friends away, but this lot wore no helmets. The leader’s long white hair fell to his waist, and his skin was gray as ash.

  The knight narrowed his eyes, his silver tipped lashes veiling the pools of black below his eyelids. “We’ve been expecting you.”

  “Then where is the red carpet?” Memory said.

  The smugness dropped from the knight’s face as he tried to interpret her reaction and phrasing.

  Memory squared up her fingers to frame the dark fae’s face and squinted through at him. “And that look on your face is exactly why I love saying stuff like that. So, are you going to let us in?”

  The knight hesitated. Not in a way that seemed confused, but a way that seemed torn, and troubled, and made Memory’s stomach bubble. “Human queen,” he said in a hushed voice. “You should return home.”

  “Let them pass!” The deep, regal voice called from behind the crowd of guards.

  Nyneve appeared, and the men parted to make way for her. She strode through them, wearing a dress encrusted with thousands of diamonds, as though she were glistening sea-foam on top of deep black water. The shimmer of her dress and the shimmer of her lightly scaled, silver skin blended perfectly so it was hard to tell where the close fitted bodice ended and her flesh began. The skirts, though, billowed around her strong frame and trailed in a long train behind her. With her hair like nighttime flowing all round, she seemed to be the very embodiment of the starry sky.

  “Your Highness,” the men muttered in rough unison, all taking a knee.

  Nyneve looked darkly at the head guard who had showed hesitation at allowing Memory and her friends to enter the court.

  “They are here by invitation of one of our own, or so it would appear.” Nyneve’s eyes raked over Shonae, who trembled and tried to press herself into a corner. “They are to be allowed entry.”

  “They tricked me into compliance. They carried iron,” Shonae stuttered.

  “Iron,” a knight said, disgust written on his face.

  Nyneve raised her chin slightly. “Yes. The iron. You cannot be allowed to bear it into the court, you must understand.”

  Memory reached instinctively for her knife in her belt. Without iron, they would have no protection at all, but what good was it to her now, truly? She could not fight her way with iron through every dark fae in the land to save her friends. It didn’t protect them the first time.

  Memory gave a single nod.

  Nyneve waved for them to follow, and they walked into the long entry hall and to a small room to the side. “Leave your iron here. You can rest your thoughts, knowing no fae will be able to touch it, move or steal it, lest they be burned.”

  Memory and Will placed their iron artefacts onto the table. They met gazes, shared a worried look, and turned away.

  “Hurry now,” Nyneve said softly. “Your friends live, but they suffer. You must act quickly. You have the right to declare or accept a challenge from the monarch, to prove the innocence of your friends and remove their Brand.” She waved them back out of the room, then followed, gown flaring around her.

  Out in the long arched hall, Nyneve took the lead again. The walls were like dark mirrors, reflecting her, Memory, Will and Shonae as they sped along the corridor.

  “A challenge? What kind of challenge?” Memory half jogged to keep up with the long stride of the Amazonian unseelie princess.

  Nyneve slowed as they reached a wider section of hallway which met a huge door, or more like gate, made of woven silver vines and elegant heart-shaped leaves. She touched it softly and it began swinging open. “Trial by combat,” she said.

  Memory’s heart lurched into her throat. The gate opened into a gargantuan domed room, filled with monsters of every form and s
hape. It felt as though someone had opened up a compendium of fairytale monsters and let the beasts spill from the pages into real life. Minotaurs and trolls, gaunts and green skinned crones, banshees and crooked, twisted, dark winged harpies. Memory tried to see them with fresh eyes, tried to see beyond their physical appearance and judge them without bias, but all she could see was monsters. Monsters, every one of them. Because they were here in Finvarra’s court.

  The chamber was formed of the same mirrored dark crystals as the rest of the castle, but within them sparkling shapes and clouds of color moved, like nebulae in space, adding color and light to the darkness. In the center of everything was a raised dais where grand seats were formed from crystalline tree roots that met in a thick, twisted trunk that held the largest throne of all—Finvarra’s. He sat there, within the hollow of the sparkling tree whose branches spread up, up, twirling into the high ceiling as though it was what held aloft the very roof.

  The creatures in the room squabbled and gossiped, argued and drank. The race of news was already spreading through the room and Memory heard whispers of her name, and “dragon” in the chatter.

  As the gates swung into their fully open position they clanged against the wall, and then all eyes in the room were upon Memory.

  Finvarra sat in his throne like a tumble of fallen branches, his body a mess of wiry limbs, sharp angles, and rough, ancient skin. He looked down at Memory and extended his arm, curling a sharp clawed finger at her to beckon her to him.

  Shonae tugged at Memory’s sleeve, cowering by her side. “As Finvarra has grown more cruel and twisted, so has he attracted the worst of the fae into his court. I fear we will not walk free from here again.”

  Memory walked in anyway. The dark fae moved apart, creating a path for her. She could see something in their all black eyes as they watched her. Hatred? Or could it be fear?

  As the crowd cleared, backing to the edges of the room, Memory saw something far worse.

  Eloryn. Roen. Erec.