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

back, as though it were the simplest thing to create light with her words. With the gloom cleared, the room suddenly seemed a lot more solid, even pretty. Furniture was sparse, but elegant and well cared for. Memory took a seat at a small dining table of carved dark wood. A thick curtain sectioned off the end of the room. Partly open, it showed behind it a simple single bed and a store of shelved belongings; books, clothing, and tools that she didn’t think she’d know the uses for even if she did have any memories. Two curtains were draped across doorframes leading out, but Memory guessed there couldn’t be much more to the cottage beyond them.
    Eloryn sat beside her, head tilted, hiding behind her hair. Memory sighed and chipped black polish from her fingernails as her frustration rose. Her second day in the world for all she could remember, and she was left to make all the small talk. At least Eloryn wasn’t making them run any more. It was nice to sit. So nice. Memory thought sitting might be her new favorite pastime.
    Isabeth returned, carrying a tray of food, drink, and some small cloths. A steaming bowl of water balanced in the middle. The clatter of the crockery as she put the tray down on the table didn’t cover the sound of Brannon yelling again from outside.
    Isabeth dipped two cloths together into the water bowl and squeezed them out. She handed the girls one each. “Trouble indeed.”
    “Thank you, for letting us come in. And helping us. And stuff,” Memory said. Her words became progressively more awkward but she kept tacking them onto her failed attempt at being polite. Roen and Brannon’s voices hammering through the thin cottage walls didn’t help her train of thought. She focused on wiping her hands clean.
    The back door slammed again, and Brannon walked in. Roen followed, head low and jaw clenched.
    Isabeth clicked her tongue. “These won’t do.” She picked the already muddied cloths out of the girls’ hands. “Roen, fill the tub.”
    He went back into the kitchen without a word, emerging again a moment later with a large pot of water which he took into the other room. Brannon moved up and sat across from the girls at the table, staring at Eloryn who shyly looked down and away.
    Isabeth lifted the pot of blackened water and rags off the table and took it away. “It may not be much, but please go ahead and eat. No formalities tonight, considering,” she said and left the room again.
    Memory mumbled thanks and looked nervously from the food to Brannon, not sure what formalities would have been anyway. Brannon reached out and tore off some crusty bread. He pushed the rest closer to them without a word. Her smile in return was ignored, so she took a filled ceramic cup and slunk back into her chair. Finding that the cup contained wine surprised her, but no one suggested she shouldn’t drink it. The rich taste made her eyes droop and it added to the warmth that already burned in her chest. Had she been running on nothing but shock and adrenaline since she woke up? She was so tired she couldn’t think straight, and now her body no longer moved, it was giving up any fight to stay awake. Yes. Sitting. Good.
    Brannon fortunately had calmed down and had little to say to her. He tried to start conversations with Eloryn a couple of times. They led nowhere. Memory tried to chew on some food but her mouth refused to function. She watched Roen take pot after pot of water from kitchen to bedroom.
    She didn’t realize she’d fallen asleep in her chair until Isabeth came and shook her.  “Dear, I hate to be waking you, but the bath is drawn, best to get cleaned up now.”
    Memory looked up and saw Eloryn gone. She couldn’t see Roen or Brannon either. Somewhere deep inside panic burbled, but her body wouldn’t respond. Isabeth steered her like a sleepwalker into the bedroom. A polished brass bath tub stood in a corner, half behind a dressing screen.
    Memory noticed Eloryn lying on a bed canopied with