Hope's Reign: Memory's Wake Trilogy, #2

Chapter 1

Living in the castle with her friends wasn’t turning out to be the Happily Ever After that Memory thought it would be. With skirts hitched up and heart fluttering with adrenaline, she bolted across the lawn and pushed through a gap between dense hedges and the garden wall. A final glance back showed a page, handmaiden, and guard stumbling down the palace steps, bewildered at her disappearance. Spying through the leaves, Memory grinned. If she knew it would be this easy to lose the entourage, she would have done it sooner.

Life had become an ongoing parade of public appearances, formal dress, legal documents, rehearsals, posing for portraits, fairy representatives, and the mighty task of rebuilding the kingdom of Avall. It gave Memory the distinct sensation of drowning. No time was left to just be herself. Whoever that was.

Moments ago, escorts had come to chaperone her to yet another meeting. Yet another meeting. I couldn’t stand another meeting! Something snapped and she just dashed off when they were looking the other way. A tactic they obviously weren't expecting. And she’d become well practiced at running away from people since returning to Avall.

Memory slowed from a jog to a relaxed walk. Light rain misted the air, weighing down her pale hair and the wide-skirted gown better suited to a ballroom. A carpet of muddy leaves sloshed under foot, and the hem of the dress was already stained, but Memory didn’t care. Water beaded on soft ferns and she caressed the fronds, like wet velvet under her touch. Silence. She listened and smiled. I’ve missed you.

Memory wandered farther into the long strip of woodland that spread into the distance on the eastern side of the palace. Hunting grounds, left wild and ancient and full of life, including one new resident. Or at least Memory assumed Will now lived somewhere in these woods. Neck arched, she peered into the rain-blackened branches of the sturdy oaks but saw no sign of him. She frowned. Mental note- must find out where and how Will lives. Memory wondered if she’d come this way with the hope to see him, or just because being lost in a forest still seemed more familiar than the gold-leafed walls of the kingdom’s finest castle. With Will, there was no pretense, no pandering. He was her only link to a forgotten past and distant life. She wished he’d visit more often.

Memory felt like the kingdom’s newest toy, getting propped up next to Eloryn on display as the visible face of change for Avall, while behind the scenes Hayes and the Wizard’s Council dealt with pulling the kingdom back together. The Council kept the information about where Memory had been on strict lockdown, letting people assume she had been with Eloryn and Alward the whole time, but rumors of how she defeated Thayl spread fast. The twin with the strange hair, name, and behavior was the hottest topic in Avall. The most people gossiped about Eloryn was to say how lovely she was.

Hayes and his cronies also treated Memory like some sort of arcane oddity to be studied. Her first visit with them, which had been advertised as being friendly and social, turned into a civilized interrogation full of questions she couldn’t answer about things she didn’t understand. Where did she get her powers, where had she been, what did Thayl’s ritual do to her? They wanted her to use magic for them, to observe her. She didn’t want anyone studying her too closely, worried about what they would see.

Memory swore as something sharp jammed into the side of her satin slipper. The stupidly big skirts prevented her from even seeing her own feet and the source of pain. Memory glared at the lacey gown, now woven with twigs and leaves. She was not dressed for this. Run-away-and-plan-the-rest-later proves yet again to be a bad fallback strategy.

Trying to settle the voluminous skirts, Memory sat on a nearby fallen trunk and brought the injured foot up into view. A sharp stick had wedged itself into the sole of her shoe. She pulled her knife from where it had been stashed in her corset, flicked the blade out, and levered the stick free with the point. Eloryn would probably be able to just ask the stick to remove itself, not that she’d be hanging out with me in a forest anymore. Memory sighed. Why did she think things would remain the way they were? Just her, Eloryn, Roen, and Will looking after each other. They’d bonded under extreme conditions, and now that they were safe, Memory could feel the group drifting separate ways.

The princesses’ every minute was managed, and when Memory thought things couldn’t get worse, Hayes sprung a new surprise on her. On top of the stress of the upcoming coronation ceremony, he insisted she had to go back to school. To that horrid land where bullies teased her hair colors and the only place to reliably skip class smelled like a urinal. She always hated school. She...

Chewing gum smooshed into the back of her head. The horrified disgust on her face when she turned around made the pointy faced boy behind her laugh. Gus. He was so getting unfriended.

What’s the problem? It’s the same color as your hair anyway, he said.

Her hands became fists. Nice one. By that logic I guess it means you won’t notice when I stick your head in a toilet because you’re just a piece of—

Opening her eyes, Memory clutched at the rough bark of the log to steady herself. The flashback was far too vivid to have been only imagination. Gus’s weasel-like features were still clear, and she could almost smell the dirty-sock scent of the school corridor. A shiver danced through her limbs simply by knowing what these were. Memories.

She replayed them like hitting the previous chapter button over and over on a remote, savoring them. She could remember something. School. Just a tiny fragment, but it was there, and it belonged to her. A low giggle started huffing its way out of her mouth, growing as excitement took over. She had to get back and tell Eloryn. A wide grin cracked her face. She closed the knife and jumped up to head back to the palace.

Memory skipped over woodland debris, ducking under dripping branches and trying not to slip in haste when she ran face first into something hard. A sharp sting shot through her nose, and she clutched at it with both hands. Eyes watering, she stumbled backward, only to hit something behind her. She blinked, trying to see what blocked the way, but found nothing. With arms outstretched, she tried all directions. The air seemed to spring back, like pushing on a firm mattress.

Look what I caught, an ethereal voice whinnied through the cool air. Pretty as a princess.

Creeping from behind some trees, a creature approached Memory. From a distance it looked like a little girl, but as it drew near Memory could see it wasn’t human at all.

The creature moving forward twinkled from rain, which formed pearls on the fine layer of white fur that covered a feminine body. Bovine ears and curled horns protruded from a head of wooly hair, and long animal-like legs ended in cloven hooves. Was there even a little tail swishing to and fro? The creature stared straight at Memory with two nebulous black eyes and grinned.

Black eyes... does that mean unseelie fae? But she’s so beautiful. It must have been some type of fae, something that had a classification, a name, a place in either the seelie or unseelie courts. Eloryn would know. Memory just knew the creature was gorgeous and terrifying.

She held her breath, remaining still as though movement would provoke it. Would the Pact protect her from this? Maybe it was time to start paying more attention to the politics of Avall.

So, hi, Memory said. Nice to meet you, I guess. I’m just heading off that way, as soon as I can move again. Are you causing that? Are you allowed to do that?

The grin on the furry fae spread wider, and she tilted her head down to the ground. Memory’s gaze followed.

Stupid skirts. She hadn’t even noticed past all their ruffles that she’d walked directly into a fairy ring. She’d heard that wasn’t a good thing to do. Memory pushed against the force that encircled her where the white-spotted red toadstools poked from the ground.

The fae giggled and danced around the circle. My fairy ring, my territory. You’re mine, mine, mine.

Look, let me go, and I’m sure we can work something out. I’m, like, someone important here in Avall. And we’re both reasonable, Memory paused, people, right?

The fae stopped and looked her up and down.

I know who you are, the fawn sang like a nursery rhyme, Little ticking time-bomb came home from Hell.

What do you mean? And how do you even know what a time bomb is anyway?

We fae, we travel, see many things. Or we did, before the human plague poisoned the world. The fae grimaced. Now, I could keep you as a pet, she began, stroking her furry chin, but humans are so greedy and unclean.

The snowy fae poked Memory in the shoulder. Memory startled, flicking the knife in her hand open again and holding it up protectively.

The fae snorted. Cold iron. You stink of it. That knife will get you into trouble, princess. Just try and use it on me, I’ll Brand you faster than lickety-split. My territory means no Pact for you. The fae bent in close. Memory could see her face reflected in the creature’s wide black eyes. No, no, no. We’ll find a use for you. You look like you could dance well. I could make you dance for eternity. Dance, dance, dance so beautifully.

Gulp. Time for an escape strategy. Memory took stock of her assets and disadvantages. Corset strung too tight. Skirts too big. Rights under the Pact lost. Unable to use her fae-burning knife or be Branded. No one actually knew where she was. Will hadn’t seemed to have noticed his Memory-is-in-danger cue. Veil doors took too long to cast. Other magic was unpredictable and scary. Assets, where are you?

Memory made a display of putting her knife away.

I’m sorry. I’m new here and don’t know how things work yet. Is there any chance you can just let this one time slip, and if you ever catch me again I’ll be yours for reals? What harm could there be in letting me go?

What harm? the fawn cried, sounding like a whinny. "This from the girl child who pointed an iron knife at me? A jest! Stinky, ticking time-bomb means no harm!"

The fae straightened up to her full height, just taller than Memory’s five-foot-nothing stature. Perhaps, perhaps I will turn you into something harmless. That would be the best thing for everyone.

Okay, magic it is then. Memory hated using magic, the way it burned through her and left her empty and singed. But she had to get away. She prepared herself as the fae seemed to come to a decision.

I’ll turn you... into a flower! The fae lunged forward, grabbing Memory’s shoulders tight. She flinched backwards, lifting both fists as a shield. Releasing the flame of magic, she closed her eyes and hoped for the best, the only technique she’d mastered so far.

Magic exploded. Gusting winds and the disconcerting feel of the Veil pulled at her, but Memory kept her eyes squeezed closed. She waited, breath held, and after a few moments she couldn’t feel the fae’s grasp anymore. And I don’t think I feel like a flower, not that I’d know what being a flower felt like. She peeled one eyelid open, and the sight made the other eyelid snap wide alongside it.

What the...

Chapter 2

She was back in her room. Back in the castle.

Memory doubled over, breathing through the shock and pain of the instant, and unexpected, Veil transportation. What in the holy horse balls was that? That was not what she meant to do, but then her magic had always been as predictable as it had been explainable. The Veil door was something that she could do if she concentrated to control it, but to do it instinctively, or worse accidentally, made her stomach contract.

A shiver built in her back and shuddered out through her limbs, bringing with it a cold sweat. Calm down. You’re okay, you’re still here, she told herself firmly, but panic kept debating that with her. What if she wasn’t? Was she even in the same time? What if she got lost in the Veil again for another sixteen years?

She straightened up and analyzed the room. My room, she reminded herself. It looked the same as it had that morning, still a total mess. Eloryn had ended up in Loredanna’s well-maintained suite, and the pristine, ornate setting suited her, but Memory couldn’t handle it. It felt like stepping right into the shoes of a mother she’d never known.

Instead, Memory took the adjoining chambers, which would have been the king’s, her father’s. She knew less about him than she did her mother. The royal bloodline was through Loredanna, and he was just some sorry soul whom the Wizard’s Council picked to be her husband, and he only lived another nine months after that. His chambers had not been well kept. Shards of broken vases covered the patchy rug and torn paintings, shrouded in cobwebs, sat where they’d fallen off the walls. This entire wing of the castle had been closed up during the sixteen years of Thayl’s rule, with only Loredanna’s chambers being cared for by Thayl himself.

The debris had been cleared out by servants, and the castle steward argued that room should be properly renovated before Memory moved in. She preferred it like this though, a clean slate. She intended to decorate the room with personal mementos, make it her own, but so far her only belonging was her old wallet that Will had returned to her.

No one had snuck in and renovated the room, or even made the bed, so she guessed she managed to come right back. But this was something that needed to be confirmed. She needed to see her sister and tell her what had happened, both the good news and the bad. How to share the news was another matter. Hey, I remembered stuff, but then got caught by a furry fairy and Veil doored back to my room without meaning to! Yay? Memory doubted her twin would take this new installment of weird very well.

She walked to the corner of the sitting room and heard muffled murmurings coming through the patchy wallpapered wall. She knocked hesitantly and the sound stopped. A second later Eloryn called her welcome. Her voice sounded tiny.

Lory, you won’t believe what I’ve got to tell you. Memory opened the doorway that looked like a section of wall, joining their chambers. It wasn’t really secret, just designed to fit in. Nerves twinged as she thought how to share the news with her twin, but the sight in the room chased the idea out entirely.

Eloryn’s neat and pretty chambers were now cluttered with wooden chests of all shapes and sizes. Some were open, showing folded clothing and books. Mostly books. Eloryn sat on the floor, surrounded by the boxes, her face splotchy red and wet.

What happened? Memory stood frozen for a second then managed to step through the boxes and kneel in front of her sister. Eloryn squinted through tears.

Hayes arranged to have it all brought here. That’s what the meeting you missed was about. All of our belongings, mine and Alward’s. She held a man’s shirt, hands like claws, gripping it tight.

It’s... a lot of books. Memory bit her tongue. She had to do better than that, be a better friend, a better sister, but felt so awkward.

It’s not even all of them. They kept everything that falls within the Council’s legal domain - books on magic, the speaking mirror, and all of Alward’s research into the Veil. I understand that the mirror and books had belonged to the Council to start with. Alward took them with him when he went into hiding. I’m not ungrateful. It’s so moving that they went to such trouble to bring this all to me, but I would have liked to see Alward’s research again. I wanted to see his handwriting again. Eloryn’s small body shook as a loud sob ended her sentence. She covered her eyes with a forearm, blonde hair shimmering as she shook with silent sobs.

Memory had so many things to ask her twin about accidental magic, the fairy ring, and the black-eyed fae. She wanted to celebrate her memories returning. She paused for a moment and looked at her sister.

Memory leaned forward and wrapped Eloryn in a tight hug. The fabric of their skirts rustled against each other and puffed out like they were sitting in clouds. Eloryn put her head on Memory’s shoulder and wept quietly.

Mem, why is your dress all muddied? What did you want to tell me? Eloryn mumbled.

Nothing to worry about. Memory squeezed Eloryn and let her cry.

It was like some kind of cruel joke, but she was there, really there, standing right in front of Thayl’s cell.

Memory's lip twitched in confused anger. She hadn’t known where Thayl was being kept. She didn’t want to know, as long as he was kept away from her. She had just been wandering the castle, and her traitorous feet led down the cold stone steps into the wisp-lit depths of the dungeons. Guards nodded as she walked by, unlocking gates, watching curiously but not daring to stop her. She just walked and found herself there.

She stood and glared. Thayl sat on a cot in the furthest corner of the room, back against the rough cut wall, hunched over, face hidden by dark wavy hair. Memory could see he’d been unable to shave. His right hand hung down on one side. Right arm, Memory corrected herself. Thanks to her, he no longer had a hand there. It was still bandaged, blackened by blood and dirt from the cell. A thick, rotting stench filled the space. His clothes, the same he’d worn the morning she’d cut off that hand, looked grey now, not the rich blue and gold they once were. Hadn’t he been given anything else to wear? She cringed off a feeling of sympathy, twitching it away like a spider crawling up her arm.

Thayl reacted to the movement, his head jerking up. He stared at her for a moment then rested his head again on his knees. Come to gloat? I guess this was inevitable. Say your worst, demon.

Caught off guard, Memory rambled, I’m not. I didn’t come here for anything. I didn’t mean to come here at all. I was looking for Roen.

I don’t think you’ll find him down here.

I mean, I went to try and see Roen, but Isabeth says he’s not here, gone off on some trip all of a sudden without telling me. I couldn’t find him and then I... I ended up here. Why am I telling him this? What am I doing here? Why am I not leaving? Memory looked to the stone stairwell then back to the cell. This was the only cell down these stairs, separate from the rest of the prison. A private high-security dungeon for the most hated man in Avall. Thick gridded copper squares let her see in clearly to the simple stone room. A wooden tray had been slid under a small gap at the front, with just one piece of bread the size of her small fist. She wondered if he’d eaten the rest, or if this was all he got.

Thayl sounded tired, any bait in his words overwhelmed, making him almost seem interested. Surely you have other people to see. What about your sister? Or that savage pet of yours?

Will’s not savage! And it’s your fault how he is now. He wouldn’t have had to grow up like that if it wasn’t for you. Memory shivered. It wasn’t only Thayl’s fault. She couldn’t help but feel guilty too. He hasn’t been around much. Being around too many people freaks him out.

She had thought of looking for Will, but it seemed he could only be found when he wanted to be. She knew he was still around, on guardian angel duty, but she hadn’t exactly been in any danger lately, until the furry-fae encounter, and then he didn’t show. He’d only visited a few times these last weeks and seemed to be getting more withdrawn. His sprite friends were also still hanging around, keeping an eye on her. Memory tried talking to them once, but they treated her like toxic waste. And Eloryn was always so busy, much like Memory should have been if she wasn’t dodging handmaidens and duties. She needed someone to talk to, someone to share her big news, and found no one to turn to. But that didn’t mean she wanted to talk to Thayl. She balled her hands into fists.

Like you can talk anyway, you’re not far from savage yourself. Doing what you did to the woman you claimed to love.

Thayl half smiled, as though he were expecting this. The smile didn’t reach his eyes, still as dark and sad as when she’d first seen them at Duke Lanval’s estate. Not just one.

Not one... who what now? Memory’s raised voice faltered in confusion.

Not just one woman I loved, but two. Thayl shook his head, the oily mess of his dark hair glossy in the low light of the cell. It’s not surprising you were drawn here. You don’t know, but when you were born I had a sixteen-year-old sister. Another beautiful life sacrificed as part of the ritual to take your power. That bloody ritual. That’s why you’re here.

Memory shook her head, not understanding, not sure she wanted to understand.

The ritual bound us together, you and I. I barely feel it now without my hand, but I know it’s still there. Thayl tapped his chest. On the same place on Memory’s body, a disfiguring scar twisted the skin. Even if you won’t acknowledge it, it’s bringing you to me.

Memory stood frozen for a moment before a growling grunt of disgust burst out. "Connected to you? Make me want to barf my skin off. I wasn’t drawn here, I just got lost! How could I be connected to someone who would kill his lover and his sister over revenge?" Memory breathed hard, snorting the anger out, but her feet remained planted.

Thayl spoke again after a long pause. Does it help that I didn’t know? I didn’t kill either of them. And I didn’t know they would die.

Why should I believe you? Why are you even telling me this? You let them die. It was your fault. My mother died because of you, and you sent me away! Memory screamed at the top of her lungs, not caring how far the words carried up the stone stairwell into the rest of the dungeon.

It wasn’t my fault! Thayl’s voice rose in return. I made such a fool of myself in court, begging Loredanna to be with me. She refused me, in front of everyone. The Wizard’s Council was so cruel. I vowed revenge on them all right there. That night the witch came to me, said she saw what happened, and that she could help. She promised me enough power to take my revenge on the Wizard’s Council. Looking back, I don’t know where I thought such power would come from. I should have known the cost would be so great, but I had no other way, not enough power to do anything on my own. I didn’t know what my deal with her would entail. All I did was take Loredanna, my beautiful Loredanna, to the witch, and then... Thayl’s last words shook from his mouth. He turned away.

All you did? Then, killing my father, hunting the wizards, banning magic, and generally being evil for sixteen years, who was that? You won’t even admit it, what you did to her, what you did to me! You screwed up my whole life. I hate you! I hate what you did to me! You stole my soul. You broke me. I’ll always be broken! Her mind kept screaming as her voice failed, and she turned away from the cell and dashed up the stairs and away from the man who took everything from her, making her as much a monster as him.

It took days for Memory to calm down after seeing Thayl. Her hands shook every time she thought about it. The worst part being that it was her own stupid fault for going there like that, talking to him. Saying she couldn’t control her own actions, that it was some magical connection compelling her, made it both better and worse. She hated the idea that she wasn’t in control, but being able to put the blame elsewhere brought some comfort. But the comfort had a bad aftertaste. Just like Thayl, not accepting the blame. She kept returning to what he said, wondering what was true, and denying the morbid desire to go back and learn more about the dark ritual that changed her life.

Memory thought through all of this instead of paying attention to the meeting currently underway. Her entourage had become wise to her escape tricks, and she hadn’t managed to avoid this one. She sat beside Eloryn and did her best not to put her head down and fall asleep. Eloryn was engaged in the conversation, but Memory’s mind roamed. The meeting room, which she’d heard called the Round Room, was part of the oldest section of the castle, the ancient stone keep the rest of the palace was built around. The high ceiling had a stained glass design of a glowing sword and light shone through, down onto the enormous ring shaped table they all currently sat around. She traced fingertips over the smooth, worn wood of the table where the colored light fell. The table looked like it had seen centuries of use.

Hayes shot her an unimpressed look at her blatant disinterest. He, Waylan, Madoc, Lambeth, Bors, and a bunch of other gray faces with names attached she hadn’t managed to remember talked at her. They all wore the same style of suit they wore when they’d first met. Rich black satin, floor-length coats with stiff collars, purple lining and trim, but the suits were new now, not aged and ragged as they had been before. They were saying something about school again. Fantastic.

They had explained that Thayl destroyed the university the Wizard’s Council used to run in Caermaellan, Avall’s capital. The university had been the place where they trained and taught future wizards, some of which became part of the Council, while others were assigned to townships to offer services throughout the islands. Other non-magical higher education was also offered there. The school was the only university of its kind in Avall before Thayl razed it to the ground as part of his hatred of all wizards.

Hayes had a strange, constipated look on his face as he announced that they would be reopening