Rewriting Memory

Chapter 9

Lysandra blinked the sun out of her eyes. Sitting up, she realized that she'd fallen asleep. "Saints," she said under her breath, scanning the horizon. The sun had inched closer to the other side of the horizon, but hadn't yet disappeared behind the line of the mountains in the distance.

She wondered if maybe the Collingwoods had thought her gone, or kidn*pped, or something to that effect, and left. She couldn't keep herself from hoping so. And besides, that conversation they'd had earlier -

Lysandra blinked again. Suddenly she couldn't remember what the conversation earlier had been about, only that there had been a conversation. Had Remiel started it? Ismene? What did they have to talk about, anyway? The harder she searched her memory, the more elusive the details became.

Her hands clenched into fists, her fingernails cutting into her palms. Had someone taken her memory of that conversation in the hope that the discussion would slip her mind?

But that was impossible. To take someone's memories, a Memory Recoder needed the person's consent. And he needed the appropriate technology - like the electrode Mason Viatrix had attached to his temple, and like the chair in which he'd made Zephyr sit. And besides, how probable was it that a Memory Recoder would have found Lysandra asleep out here in the Ferry estate's garden? Not very. She'd probably just forgotten the conversation while she slept.

Lysandra stood up, stretched, and brushed the grass off her skirt. She began her walk back toward the house, still feeling half-asleep.

She knew what it felt like to lose her memory. Not just to forget things, but to think back to an era of her life and find an overwhelming nothing, a dark space that had consumed all of her thoughts, all of her experiences. She'd felt that way just two years ago. Her first memory after that blackout had been of her father's arrest, and that memory only existed because some Memory Recoder out there had done an awful job.

She'd never found out anything about the reason for his arrest. No one had dared tell her. And no one had dared tell her why she was missing so much of her memory.

That feeling, she realized, was what this new loss of memory felt like. It didn't feel like normal forgetting. It felt like . . . like something had been removed.

Her hands shook when she pushed the door open and reentered the house. Ismene barged into the room, shouting at her, about how she had made the Collingwoods wait and how she had probably lied about going to the restroom, that or she was just stupid enough to get lost. Lysandra muttered something about Ismene having too much wine, and Ismene blew up.

"Go to your room, young lady! Do you even realize what kind of problems you cause in this house!" Ismene shouted. "I don't want to hear you answer that question! Go! Go!"

Lysandra cleared her throat and spoke as calmly as she could with the adrenaline coursing through her veins. "Ismene," she said. "If I weren't here, there wouldn't be a Ferry estate."

"Go to your room! I don't want to hear it!" Ismene said.

Lysandra turned her back on Ismene, clenching her hands into fists again as she walked up the steps to her bedroom.

Hours later, she heard a knock on the door. The sun had disappeared behind the mountains, casting an orange glow through Lysandra's window. "What do you want," she called out without inflection.

"It's Nereus," the voice said.

"Oh." Lysandra sighed. "Come in, I guess."

Nereus opened the door and stepped into Lysandra's room. He stood at the edge of the door frame, back pressed against the wall, as though he believed he wasn't allowed to move any closer. "You okay?"

"I don't know," Lysandra said.

"The Collingwoods were pretty confused at first that you didn't come back," Nereus said. "But then Vasu just offered them some more wine. Anyway, they left."

"I figured," Lysandra said. "I fell asleep."

Nereus's eyebrows shot up. "You what?"

"I went outside, and I fell asleep. Embarrassing, I know. Anything to get the Collingwoods to go away."

"Oh."

"So why did you come up here?" Lysandra asked. "Does Ismene want something?"

"No," he said. "Well, I mean, she probably does, but . . . we always talk to each other about this stuff, so I thought I'd continue the tradition."

"Right." Lysandra laughed. "Thank you for checking up on me, Nereus."

He bowed. "It is my duty, after all."

A long silence followed. Nereus stared at the window while Lysandra watched him. She wanted to tell him about the strange incident with her memory, but at the same time, she didn't want to put that burden on him. Briefly she wondered what he was thinking about as well, but without giving that much thought, she moved on.

"Nereus," Lysandra began.

"What?" His eyes snapped to hers. "Am I dismissed?"

"Not yet," she said. "I have a favor to ask. If I need to go out for a while, will you cover for me?"

He looked confused. "You - you've never asked anyone to cover for you."

"I know," Lysandra said. "And look what's come down over my head because of it."

"I suppose I can do that," Nereus said. "But what exactly do you want me to do?"

"Tell Ismene I went for a walk, or went to the restroom or something," Lysandra said. "Honestly, I don't really care what you say, as long as it holds her off until I come back."

Nereus gave a short, slightly uncomfortable laugh. "I'll do my best."

"Thank you." She nodded to him. "You are dismissed now. If you want."

He said nothing but disappeared through her door, closing it silently behind him.