The Queen of the Underverse - Chapter 18
- Donovan Evans-Foto Dono
- Oct 20
- 13 min read
Updated: Oct 27
A Note from Foto Dono: It’s been a while since my last State of the Book address, and I have good news: I finished the book!
Of course, by “finished,” I mean the first draft. The beast currently weighs in at 157,746 words spread across 675 pages—46 chapters, nine interludes, an intro, an epilogue, and an afterword. Miraculously, the ending I wrote months ago still holds up.
Now comes the hard part: taking it apart again to see where I went wrong. Did I mention I’m not actually a writer? I’m winging this, mother, one typo at a time.
A few folks have asked if I plan to publish it. I think so—probably on Amazon—but before I do, there’s a Beta Version available for download. If you’d like to help by reading and leaving a comment or two, I’d be grateful.
You can grab it here ➡️ BETA VERSION – I’d love your honest thoughts on story flow and overall reader experience. Beta readers will receive a free final copy when it’s published.
— Yuunral Naretar: I’ve read it. It’s okay. Naturally, the parts I wrote are fantastic.
Previously on The Queen of the Underverse…
Rebecca finally made it to Amberford—after a few totally unplanned detours and heroic delays. Along the way, she discovered some new abilities and saved an entire bus full of kids (because that’s just how she rolls).
Now- She takes a breather… and learns that Amberford isn’t quite what it seems.
Ye saga continues…
Chapter 18 - The Memory Market
Memories Made, Memories Missed, Memories Bartered With A Twist™
Rebecca woke up in Shean’s room because Lyrie insisted. Lyrie had returned to her charges the night before, saying she couldn’t stay. Shean was expected to make a full recovery, but he couldn’t be moved until sometime the next afternoon.
Lyrie had S’Rah—who was seriously up past her bedtime—help reset the glyphs and reactivate the wards before leaving. She promised to check on him the following day. If she saw Kai, she’d send him over too.
Shean’s room was spartan, but the bed was comfortable. He’d let her borrow some nightclothes, and she’d slept better than she had since arriving. What woke her, however, was a pink arm smacking her in the head.
S’Rah had apparently crawled into bed with her sometime during the night. The girl’s shirt was alive with small stylized Zs scrolling across the fabric, bumping into one another as if caught in a sleepwalk.
After a hot shower last night, Rebecca crawled back under the blanket, shivering again. She remembered finally feeling warm sometime in the middle of the night—and now, at least, she knew why.
She’d locked the door—S’Rah’s idea—but apparently, locked doors were more like polite suggestions to S’Rah. Rebecca chuckled, grateful she hadn’t been whacked by one of the girl’s horns instead.
Her clothes from the day before had been cleaned and folded neatly on a chair beside the window. She eased out of bed, careful not to wake S’Rah, checked her backpack for the Key and the family photo—both still there—and shivered. She could never seem to stay warm.
She picked up her ‘I Shaved My Balls for This’ T-shirt. “Thanks, Anti. I think it’s time to retire this one.”
A giggle rose from the bed. “No, don’t. It’s hilarious.”
Rebecca turned. “I thought you were asleep—and I did lock the door.”
S’Rah ducked under the blanket. “You fart in your sleep.”
“What did you say?”
“I said you fart in your sleep. It was noisy.”
Rebecca arched an eyebrow and approached the bed. “You know, young ladies sometimes need to be taught a lesson.”
“You can’t! I’ll tell Shean!”
Rebecca lunged, trapping the squirming girl under the covers.
S’Rah yelped between fits of laughter. “Okay, I won’t tell! I won’t break in again! I won’t say your farts smell either!”
Rebecca grinned. “Too late for that now.” She plunged her hands into the blanket and unleashed a tickle assault.
S’Rah shrieked with laughter, gasping that it wasn’t fair Rebecca was so strong.
They only stopped when Shean shouted from down the hall that he’d call Lyrie back to turn them both into bullylizards.
Rebecca poked her head into the nurse’s station—if that’s what it was—to check on Shean.
“Hey, Shean. Thanks again for letting me crash here last night. And sorry about the noise earlier. S’Rah’s amazing, but those kids are mischievous. They’ve been all over my stuff. S’Rah even snuck back into my room. She reminds me of my daughter.”
Shean, lost in thought, blinked and looked up sharply. “Say dat again.”
“Say what? That she snuck into my room? Okay, technically your room.”
“No, da other ting.”
“She reminds me of my daughter?”
He stared at her as if seeing her for the first time. “Ya don’t know what she is, do ya?”
“What do you mean? She’s a kid. Yeah, she looks different than me, but everyone looks different than me here.”
“She’s an Orphan o’ da City.”
“Yeah, I figured this was an orphanage for kids who lost their parents.”
“For cryin’ out loud—where are ya from?”
“I told you. Earth.”
“I got no clue where dat is.”
“I came through one of those Doorwhere to Everywhere things. Earth’s my home. I was in space, about to die, then I met Lyra, Chalky, got into a toxic relationship with my skin, ran into you, and found out I’m powerful here. First bit of good news I’ve had. All I’ve been trying to do since is get back home.”
She smiled, but Shean forgot to breathe.
“Hello? Shean?” She waved a hand in front of his face.
“Yer jokin’.”
“Nope. Dead serious.”
He raised a hand and counted off her points. “So—ya from another universe. Ya met Queen Lyra before she died. Ya know, Chalky. I dunno what da skin ting is. Ya just got strong and ya like it. An’ ya wanna go home.”
“Yep. That’s about the Cliff Notes version.”
“Who’s Cliff?”
“It’s a saying on Earth.”
“Oh, good. I don’t dink I could deal wit another point.”
The door creaked open.
S’Rah poked her head in. “Hey, Shean. Your boyfriend’s here.”
Shean glared. “Kai is not mah boyfriend! And yer supposed ta knock first, not after.”
Rebecca blinked. Seriously, what is with his accent? I understand maybe five words. Did he go to school with Jar Jar?
S’Rah rolled her tongue and smirked. “You’re grouchy when you’re healing.” Her shirt now showed a steaming kettle bumping into stars before she huffed and wandered off.
Shean rubbed his face. “Oh, Kai… I ain’t sure I’m up ta dis.”
He looked at Rebecca and pointed. “Ya stay.” Then, softening, “Please.”
He reached for a small crystal-screen device powered by a mini aether coil. A flicker, and the image of a man in his late twenties appeared—sandy blond hair, brown vest, gray shirt. The picture was fuzzy, skipping occasionally.
“Hey, Kai,” Shean said, forcing a smile that barely hid his panic.
“Shean! There you are! Lyrie said you were back but didn’t give details. I was worried when you didn’t return on time. I knew you were fine, of course, but the mind drifts, doesn’t it? Anyway—I’m so glad you and the younglings are safe!”
Kai’s words tumbled out as if they’d been trapped too long behind his teeth.
“Uh, yeah,” Shean said, glancing at Rebecca. “Der was a bit o’ trouble. Luckily, I had someone come bail me out. Truth be told, we were lucky.”
He looked between Kai and Rebecca. “Ya doin’ anythin’ right now, Kai?”
“Just standing outside the wards.” Kai laughed. “But no plans. I was hoping to talk.”
“Yeah, I git dat. But I might have somethin’ else fer ya. Hang on.”
He tapped a button. The crystal dimmed slightly. “Kai kin’t hear us now. I t’ink ya should tell him what ya told me.”
“Why?”
“Because der’s tings dat don’t add up in yer story. It’s not dat I don’t believe ya—it’s just… why dese tings happened. Kai’s family’s got deep history wit Queen Lyra an’ da Underverse. I t’ink he might help ya make sense of it.”
He glanced at the door to be sure no one lingered nearby. “Also, I t’ink ya need ta be careful wit S’Rah.”
“Careful? Why? Is she dangerous? She’s not going to eat me, is she?”
“What? No! Don’t be daft.” He sighed. “She’ll break yer heart.”
There was a long silence.
“Shean, I—”
“Look, Rebecca, I owe ya. I truly do. If ya hadn’t been there, I’d be dead—or worse—and da younglings too. I t’ink Kai can give ya answers. Maybe even how ta get home.”
“Your boyfriend?”
“He’s not my boyfriend!” Shean’s eyes narrowed.
Rebecca nodded toward the floating image, where Kai winked playfully. “Pretty sure he didn’t get that memo.”
“Short version—we dated a few times. We’re too different. I left him a letter before I left.”
Rebecca laughed. “So you want me to talk to your not-boyfriend, who didn’t read your breakup letter?”
“We only dated a few times!”
She shrugged. “Fine. Let’s talk about my wild adventures.”
She thought, I hope he can really get me home.
Shean turned back to the communicator and unmuted it. “Ya know, we could see ya da whole time.”
“We? You mean the younglings?” Kai’s cheeks flushed.
“I’ve a guest here. We saw ya winkin’ in da crystal.”
Kai coughed. “Ah—Lyra’s light.”
“It’s okay, Kai. Look, I need yer family-history brain. I’ll fill ya in once yer inside.”
“You’re not giving me my box?”
Shean's eyes softened.
“We’ll talk ‘bout dat later. Right now, I need yer help.”
“Shean, you know I’d do anything for you.”
“Oh, don’t git all sappy. It’s just a favor. Give me a tick or two, and I’ll let ya in.”
Rebecca greeted Kai at the door. “Hi, I’m Rebecca.”
Kai arched a brow. “Are you a new Provider?”
“Ah, so that’s what Shean and Lyrie do?”
He nodded nervously.
“Nope,” she said. “I met Shean on the road when some bastards tried to steal the kids—uh, younglings—and kill him.”
Kai’s eyes widened. “Someone tried to kill Shean?”
“Yes, but we stopped them! He blew a few up, actually. It was a team effort.”
“Where is he?”
“He’s on bed rest,” she said. Kai bolted for the stairs. “Wait! In the little nurse’s clinic—healing office—out back!”
Kai paused, turned, and sprinted in the opposite direction.
Rebecca laughed. “Yep. Not boyfriend.”
S’Rah leaned over the banister, wearing overalls and a shirt patterned with drifting clouds. Her purple eyes sparkled. “Who was making that noise? The stairs don’t like it.”
“Kai. He thought Shean was upstairs.”
She scratched at the stub of her broken horn. “Well, the stairs might be tricky for about fifteen minutes,” she grumbled. “Have you asked Shean about our shopping trip yet?”
“Not yet. Kai called.”
“Don’t take too long, or we’ll miss the good sales.” She turned and disappeared into her room, the door rippling to match her shirt—clouds drifting lazily with the words S’Rah’s Room floating among them.
Teenagers, Rebecca mused. I hope I get to see my own younglings before they become one.
She went to check on Shean and Kai. Hopefully, they weren’t naked. She’d knock first.
The door was wide open—an invitation or a trap, hard to say. Kai stood there, looking heartbreakingly sad, until Rebecca entered. Then he straightened too quickly, while Shean sat stiff as if someone had replaced his nerves with wire.
Yep. Awkward.
“Shean,” Kai said, “this is…?”
“She’s da one I wanted ya ta meet,” Shean interrupted. “It involves Queen Lyra. An’ a Doorwhere ta Everywhere.”
Kai blinked, his interest sharpening. “That sounds like quite the adventure! Any friend of Shean’s—there aren’t many—is a friend of mine. So, tell me, what’s your story?”
Rebecca looked at Shean—the gruff, weary caretaker who had soothed a crying child while she’d killed a man. She took a breath and began to tell Kai everything that had happened since she arrived.
When Kai left the Provider’s, he carried a small box — the remnants of Old Kai’s time with Shean: a few clothes, some keepsakes. Once out of sight, he tossed it into a rubbish bin without a glance back.
He walked away whistling, confidence oozing from every step. The answers he wanted were finally within reach.
He hadn’t been surprised to find the Human with Shean; she had to be somewhere close. He could sense her. He could smell her. But tracking her precisely had been maddening. Still, she had been near — that much he knew. They were connected somehow. And though he was on a deadline with the Memory Farm, he could always… adjust things.
Word had already reached him that Chalky was in the city — alone. Asher had seen her, and Chalky had seen Asher, though she hadn’t recognized him. Understandable. He was a copy of a copy now, a diluted nightmare. Kai, though — Kai was too close to the original.
He’d thought Lyra would send the Human through the Unwritten Library. Of course, the path led through Amberford.
He smiled to himself. He had waited long enough.
It fascinated him that she’d managed to find another Doorwhere to Everywhere. Those were supposed to be hidden.
And yet, here she was. The foxkin, the firecloak, Shean, the younglings — they all treated her with genuine affection. Her strength was remarkable, too. It was almost as if Lyra had left her a gift.
She wanted only to go home. So beautifully Human.
And yet… something about her wasn’t right.
He needed to know what — before he killed her.
It would be easy.
He’d told Shean he needed to fetch a few books — old family histories, possible leads about Earth. A believable excuse.
He told Rebecca it was good she wasn’t with Chalky anymore. That Queen Lyra, for all her good deeds, had been a manipulator. That line always worked.
A lie works best when wrapped in half-truths.
And so he told her that somewhere in his family’s archives was a mention of Earth. Which, in a way, was true. He even smiled when he said it.
He could already see how it would play out.
As he left, Shean and Rebecca were arguing — something about a shopping trip. He suggested they still go. He’d return by lunch with “good news.”
That would give Asher time to finish preparations at the Memory Farm.
When he shook Rebecca’s hand to thank her for saving Shean, he marked her — subtle, invisible. He could find her anywhere now.
Everything was in motion.
And as he walked away, leaving Shean behind, he thought: I wonder what his heart will taste like.
A voice called from the hallway. “Are you coming, Rebecca? I want to go shopping!”
Shean sighed. “S’Rah, look — I need ta talk ta Rebecca a moment, yeah? Callin’ in a favor.”
A pause. “Okay. But… can we still go shopping?”
“Yes, but wit’ rules,” he said, smiling faintly. “Rules dat’ll be followed.”
Another pause, smaller, softer. “Okay.”
He shut the door and touched the sound glyph. The faint hum in the room dulled; their conversation vanished into silence.
He leaned back on the bed and drew a sigil along his throat. Thin red lines glowed against his skin. When he spoke again, his voice was smoother — clearer, almost startlingly so.
“Alright,” he said quietly. “A lot of what you told me… It’s beyond my experience. Even if you explained it again, I doubt it would help. But I do know the younglings.”
Rebecca blinked. “Your voice—?”
“I know the accent makes it hard to follow me. Most people struggle with it. I don’t want any misunderstandings.” His tone softened. “This isn’t easy for me, so maybe keep the sarcasm to a minimum, yeah?”
She nodded.
He reached for the small crystal screen again. It flickered to life, faces of children — the younglings — floating in soft blue light.
“These kids are special,” he said. “Not just because they’re loved — though they are. They’re special because they’re Memory Orphans.”
Rebecca frowned. “A what?”
He smiled sadly. “How old do you think S’Rah is? Thirteen? In truth, she isn’t even a year old.”
Rebecca blinked. “What? But—”
“She didn’t hatch or grow up fast, if that’s what you’re thinking. She was… conceived in the Memory Market. Remember Chalky talking about that place?”
“Barely. But you’re saying—she was made there?”
He nodded. “The Market deals in memories. You can buy, sell, or trade them. Exchange a bad memory for a better one. Forget a painful day. Even make objects from memory. Lose a toy from childhood? Someone sold the memory of it. You can buy it, make it real again — for a price.”
He gestured toward the glowing faces. “It’s trickier with living things. More expensive. Messier. But possible. Someone can sell the memory of love, or grief, or a promise — and sometimes, that memory decides it doesn’t want to fade.”
He paused, letting the idea settle.
“Sometimes memories take on lives of their own. They become Memory Orphans.”
S’Rah’s smiling face flickered across the crystal.
“No one knows which memory she came from,” Shean continued quietly. “Maybe the bittersweet memory of a child that never was — a parent’s grief made too heavy to carry, sold for relief. Maybe a promise whispered at a bedside — I’ll come back — that was never kept. The memory crystallized, and S’Rah was born.”
He looked down at his hands. “Too stubborn to disappear. Curious enough to stay. Maybe someone spoke her name one last time before letting go, and that was enough to anchor her.”
The light from the crystal faded, leaving only their reflections in the glass.
“She escaped the Memory Farm,” he said. “Lived in the ducts and alleys of the Market. Not invisible, just overlooked. She scavenged magic the way kids scavenge candy — carefully, joyfully, sometimes with explosive results. That’s where I found her.”
He leaned back, voice roughening as the magic faded. “She’ll never age, Rebecca. Never grow old. One day she’ll just… fade, like all memories do. Most Orphans last months, maybe a year.”
Rebecca stared at the floor. I fought for these children. I killed for them.
Shean nodded as if hearing the thought. “The Memory Merchants want them back. They see Orphans as stolen property. Each one consumes enormous power to exist — mana, aether, memory. When they fade naturally, that energy’s lost forever. They can’t stand that.”
I killed a man for S’Rah.
“They don’t see them as alive,” he said quietly. “They’re trophies. Prizes. Owning one grants vitality, power. But using that power consumes them.” His voice darkened, trembling with controlled rage. “You can imagine how that ends.”
He coughed, the glow on his throat flickering out. The accent crept back, softer now, a weary rhythm.
“So I did what I could,” he said. “Declared ‘em Orphans o’ da City — protected under da Lyra Charter. Da Providers, we’re da ones dat look after ‘em. Lyra helped me set it up. She knew she couldn’t be everywhere, even wit’ her strength.”
He glanced toward the window, the pink light of Amberford brushing his cheek. “She could’ve leveled da city if she’d wanted. But she didn’t believe in might-makes-right. She believed in might-used-right.”
Rebecca looked down again. We had a tickle fight upstairs.
“She’s gone now,” Shean said. “But I’ve built defenses — allies on the council, even a few among da upper class. Still, da Memory Merchants been at this a long time. I just hope we kin hold on.”
He coughed again, voice rasping. “Ya listenin’, Rebecca?”
She nodded slowly. “Is she real?”
Shean’s eyes met hers — kind, exhausted, blue as winter.
“She’s a memory,” he said. “’Course she’s real.”
––To be continued
Next Time on The Queen of the Underverse…
The darkness she thought she’d escaped has found her—and this time, it won’t be satisfied with just her.
Consequences ripple outward, and those closest to her may pay the price.
Don’t miss Chapter 19 - A Trip Down Memory Lane
© 2025 Donnavon Evans
October 21, 2025
Comments