The Queen of the Underverse - Chapter 19
- Donovan Evans-Foto Dono
- Oct 27
- 16 min read
Updated: 1 hour ago
A Note from Auntie Myne: Queens chase destiny. Providers chase purpose. Me? I mind the forgotten. The Market’s full tonight—too many empty hands, too few names to go with ’em. Sweet little things wander in, bright-eyed and hollow, askin’ if anyone remembers their birthdays.
If you see a child smilin’ without a shadow, don’t follow. If you hear laughter in a closed jar, walk the other way. Some memories ain’t meant to be found.
Business is good tonight. Tragic, but good.
—Auntie Myne, Memory Market Councilor and Proprietor of The Family Archive, Amberford Memory Market -
— Yuunral Naretar: Memory Orphans—poor dears. Fragments of thought that forgot they were broken. The Market calls them wares; I call them warnings. Every one of them began as a story someone refused to finish.
Remember this: neglect a memory long enough, and it’ll start remembering you instead.
Previously on The Queen of the Underverse…
Rebecca’s world tilts after saving Shean and the younglings. Chalky and Firecloak hunt her trail through Amberford’s winding streets. In the corners of the Market, Kai’s shadows wait—and hunger.
Now - Comes laughter, shopping, and memories… before the dark remembers them back.
Ye saga continues…
Chapter 19 - A Trip Down Memory Lane
Chalky was mad. She didn’t get angry that often. Well, lately she had been with Rebecca. However, this time she had reached a new level. She was walking out of Lost and Found, and they flat refused her. She even flashed Lyra’s ring for good measure, for all the good it did her. Oh, they said they were sorry and all, but they were too busy chasing down lost diadems, goblets, books, lockets, and rings—something about a wizard or something.
I don’t know why the wizard couldn’t find their things. Honestly.
She sat on the trunk of the aethercycle, and she heard firecloak shift inside. She popped it open and saw it shift away from the morning sun.
“Well, if you didn’t stay in there all the time, you’d see it’s a nice day outside.” Firecloak bunched up in the corner.
“Oh come on, firecloak, I know she said some things, you said something, well wrote some things. I’m sure she feels bad about it.”
The firecloak lay completely flat.
“No, you’re right, she meant every word.” Chalky sighed and placed her hand on firecloak.
“You know and I know, we did nothing wrong. Well, I did nothing wrong.” Firecloak growled.
“Really! You know you got excited about the bond with her, for Lyra’s sake. I still don’t understand it. You should have talked… err, written to her about it first. Or whatever it is you do.”
She kept petting firecloak.
“Look, all I’m saying is ask first. Maybe she’ll surprise you.”
Firecloak lay down again.
“Yeah, that’s what I think, too.”
She looked at the streets crowded with vendors and people. She knew the Underverse was going to change soon, and there was no protector there for them. Why was she here chasing down this Earth girl? She should take firecloak and find Fiddler’s Green or one of the friendlier Soft Places and ride it out.
Lyra had asked her, and she loved Lyra. Damn it.
“Well, no use crying over chips and flakes.”
She thought, Well, Earth girl is always getting into trouble; maybe they picked her up and tossed her in a cell. I’ll check the City Guard, then swing by Shean’s. If anyone's heard from Earth Girl, it’s him. He knows the city better.
“Ok, firecloak, first stop City Guard, and hopefully she’s been arrested. Then will head over to Shean’s Provider’s Home and ask for advice. You going to hide in the trunk or the sidecar?”
The firecloak jumped into the sidecar and lay down on the seat.
“Ok, great.” She closed the trunk and hopped on. A soft twist, a firm thought, and the cycle responded—lurching forward or gliding sideways, even lifting an inch or two off the ground when the mood struck. “Looks like the aethercycle is in mood too. Ok, firecloak, off we go.” She lurched forward, scattering people as she moved into the street.
The Provider’s Home was bustling a bit after Rebecca and S’Rah left. He had made sure S’Rah was protected from prying eyes, even giving her his cloak of misidentification and her hat of disguise.
Sides, wit Rebecca, she got herself an army watchin’ her back.”
Most of the younglings were outside in the back courtyard, where he could watch them from his office. He sat at his writing desk—the same place he’d written so many apologies in his life. He picked up his cup, found it cold, and set it down again.
Kai… why ya gotta be you?
Twelve dates. He smiled faintly. Kai always insisted they were adventures, not dates—dinner in the old clocktower, candlelight in the rain, the night he bought a cake too big for either of them to finish. He remembered how Kai’s laughter could make an entire room feel like it belonged to them.
It had been too much.
“Ya make me feel seen,” Shean had told him once.
“That’s all I want,” Kai had said—and he’d meant it. Or seemed to.
Even now, Shean wasn’t sure what frightened him more: Kai’s intensity or the ease with which he could surrender to it.
He pulled in a slow breath, hissed a bit. The wound from the Cassian’s blade still ached under the bandages. It was healing, mostly. Lyrie would check on it later that afternoon.
He knew Kai wanted him to join him in one of the Soft Places. That was what had given him the idea to take the younglings to find Fiddler’s Green. Then Nyssa disappeared. She had been sitting beside him when she faded. S’Rah had been there, too. He’d seen the signs: first the senses—taste and touch—then, one morning, she’d woken to find her hand gone. She’d come to him sobbing, and he’d held her for an hour while S’Rah watched her friend vanish.
He wrote the letter to Kai the next day. Kai, for all his charm, never understood what it did to him. Kai had said in passing, “Memories aren't meant to last.”
Shean never posted the break-up letter himself—he had someone else deliver it, like a coward. He’d thought ending it was mercy.
He walked down the hall to the now-empty room that had been Nyssa’s. Looking down at his trembling hands, older than they looked, he whispered to the quiet air, “Ya deserved better’n dat, didn’t ya?”
Outside, the wind shifted, carrying with it a memory of Kai’s laughter—low, smooth, unmistakably familiar.
Shean’s stomach went cold. For a heartbeat, he thought it was memory playing tricks. Then came the knock at the front door.
He reached for his portable aethervision.
Speak o’ da devil.
Kai’s smile beamed up at him.
Rebecca and S’Rah were strolling through the bustling Mercantile Bazaar, enjoying the vibrant sights of the vendors. The Bazaar was like a cross between a Renaissance fair and a runaway high-fashion event. The mix of colors, sounds, and smells was intoxicating.
The pink sun, which Rebecca learned was imaginatively called the Sun. No matter which universe the big ball of gas in the sky is, it is the Sun. However, the air was crisp and cool, and the Sun was past morning and drifting into afternoon, creating short shadows.
S’Rah was thrilled to be out shopping with her, feeling special in her cloak of misidentification and her hat of disguise, carefully chosen by Shean for the occasion. They were supposed to conceal who and what she was from prying eyes. These weren’t made from memory, but by a Mana Weaver and cost real money. Shean had reminded S’Rah. Rebecca was still a bit puzzled about how they worked.
They seemed like they had stepped right out of one of the role-playing games Mark and Mitchel loved to play. She had thought S’Rah might look a bit different, but she still looked just like herself. It was as if the accessories only worked on strangers and enemies. Since S’Rah considered her a friend, and given that S’Rah’s shirt had a rainbow, a bouncing, smiling face, she didn’t believe the concealment accessories were practical on her.
She was puzzled about how the disguised clothes could tell who was who, but since Shean and S’Rah seemed okay with it, she decided to go along. No one tried to jump out at them during the last hour or so, though Rebecca still felt a little tense.
Shean’s voice warmed back to his usual accented tenor as he handed S’Rah some pocket money. He kindly made her promise to stay by Rebecca’s side no matter what.
Rebecca felt a bit uneasy after Shean shared that she would be unsupervised with S’Rah. Shean mentioned he was okay as long as they stayed away from the Memory Market. He thought her strength might even intimidate most people. Still, he emphasized that S’Rah should never remove the hat or cloak, no matter what.
It was weird now with S’Rah, now that she knew what she was.
She smiled, but part of her couldn’t shake the new knowledge—S’Rah wasn’t a girl, not in the way she knew it. Just a memory. Just… but not just.
She was acting like any teenage girl, showing off, and it caught her off guard. She was excited about hanging out with her friend and shopping with her. Her shirt was beaming like a sunny day. She remembered the motherly feeling she felt towards her. Then the image of the tree trunk solid thunked, cleaving the man. Followed by the tickle fight this morning.
I did the right thing, didn’t I? She ran her hand through her hair.
“Are you alright, Rebecca?” S’Rah was holding up a shirt with a slogan – I EAT SLOAP. She had a face of such earnest worry, and her shirt reflected it with dark clouds.
Rebecca let out a chuckle. “Where did you find that shirt?”
She smiled brightly, “There’s a whole pile of them marked down 50%. This is supposed to change slogans, but it just says the same thing.” She shook the shirt. She looked back at Rebecca.
“Are you ok? Shean did say you’re supposed to keep an eye on me? Remember I’m up to mischief.” S’Rah laughed.
Rebecca couldn’t help but smile. Then she felt her cheeks get wet. S’Rah looked at her, concerned, washing over her.
“Rebecca?”
“S’Rah, can we find a place to sit down. I need to rest.”
“Sure. I saw some benches over there.” She pointed to some just under some shaded trees, near a small park next to the Bazaar.
There wasn’t anyone else sitting there, so they sat down facing each other.
S’Rah looked nervously at Rebecca, biting her lower lip. The girl’s emotions were dancing across her shirt with a Sun nervously peaking out behind a hill.
Fuck, ok, deep breath. Rebecca said, “You know I’m not from around here.” S’Rah nodded. “I’m from a world where you can’t buy, sell, and trade memories. Where I’m from, that’s not possible. Not like what happens here.”
“Oh.” S’Rah looked crestfallen. “I see. You didn’t know I was a memory.”
“No, I didn’t. Shean told me this morning.”
“I notice you’ve been acting differently around me and the other younglings since Kai was here this morning.” S’Rah looked down at the ground and kicked her feet. I just chalked it up to Shean and Kai stuff.” Clouds began to gather across her shirt.
“It was nice being treated like someone, for a change.” S’Rah rubbed her nose and sniffed and then looked away. There was a tear streaming down her cheek. “Are you… Are you sad you saved me then?” The clouds on her shirt were becoming dark and gray with a chance of rain.
Rebecca stared at S’Rah, shocked. Was she? She stared at the pastel pink-skinned girl with the horns curved like questions and sad purple eyes. She wasn’t human. She wasn’t flesh and blood.
She was warm, she laughed, smiled, cried, and felt pain.
Is she real? She asked Shean.
She made up her mind.
She reached out and touched her hand. “No, S’Rah. I’m not. If I had to do it again, I would.”
“You’re just saying that because you feel sorry for me.” Thunder rolled across her shirt.
"Well, I would rather not have to fight to the death again if that’s what you mean, but if some bastard touched you again, I’ll smack their asses with another tree." She wiped the tears from S’Rah's face with her free hand.
S’Rah chuckled and said, “Are all Earth people like you?”
“Unfortunately, no,” she said with a shake of her head. “It often feels like there are only a few of us, like me, most of the time.”
“Why do you want to go back?”
She pulled out her family photo, now a little bruised, but still good.
“This is my family — my wonderful husband, my precious son, and my lovely daughter. She handed the photo to her with a warm smile.”
“You said I remind you of her.” She squinted at the photo. “She looks nothing like me.”
Rebecca chuckled warmly. “You have quite a bit in common with her. You also have a bit of my son in you, too. You also share many qualities with my other family member, Sarah Mitchel. I named my daughter after her.”
“Hey, that’s almost like my name.”
“Yep. The Universe is a small place after all.”
“You mean the Underverse.” S’Rah corrected her
“Same thing.”
S’Rah looked at the photo, “So you’re trying to find your way back to them—your family.“
“Yep, it’s where I belong.” She was watching S’Rah staring at the photo.
A large group of people walked by. Rebecca kept an eye on them, but they moved on.
S’Rah handed the photo back. “I envy you, Rebecca. I’d like to belong one day.”
They sat quietly for a moment before Rebecca suddenly stood up and asked, “Hey, is there a place here that takes these photos?”
S’Rah looked a bit surprised, then said, “Uh, well, yeah. We don’t call them photos, we call them…”
“Whatever,” She waved her hands. “Is it a simple spot where you can sit down, and they take your photo right away, and you’ll get it promptly?”
S’Rah thought for a second, “Uh, yeah. It’s pretty close to here.”
“Great, let’s go there. Lead the way.” She waved her hands forward.
“Uh, Rebecca, I have to wear the hat and cloak. The photo won’t work with it on.”
“Then take it off for the photo. It’s going to take a second, right?”
“Well, kinda…” She was looking inside, thinking.
“Look, is there any reasonable danger while they take the photo?”
Grinning S’Rah said slowly, “No.”
“Ok, it’s a photo op, you and me. Let’s grab that shirt, too. I wanna wear it.”
The photo place, affectionately dubbed by Rebecca as her favorite spot, brought back memories of the mall booths she used to visit. There was a laid-back attendant who would rather be sleeping than working, gently pressed a button, and with a monotone voice, guided you to look into a crystal ball. Instantly, a vivid image would come to life before your eyes. He’d then pull a lever, causing swirling energy to dance around their heads and flow into a small box. Before long, a piece of paper and a photo would emerge — but it felt more like a sleek hologram embedded in the paper, lending it a wonderfully futuristic touch.
Rebecca felt so delighted that she couldn’t wait to do another one! On the other hand, the attendant wasn’t very happy about it, but hid it with a fake smile.
S’Rah was back in her disguise when Rebecca handed her a photo.
“There you go, S’Rah. It may not be much. But for what it’s worth, I’ll have a photo of you to take with me on my travels. In a sense, part of you will belong to me. You can keep the other one.”
“I don’t know what to say.” S’Rah looked at the photo, their arms hanging around each other’s shoulders. Both were wearing the same shirt, I EAT SLOAP. Rebecca was sticking out her tongue, and S’Rah’s face was scrunched up.
Rebecca put the new photo with her family photo securely in her pocket. They were still wearing the I EAT SLOAP shirts.
“You didn’t have to do this. You just met me. I’m not even real to most people.”
She echoed Shean’s words back to her. “Of course you’re real—you’re a memory, memories are real.”
S’Rah hugged Rebecca.
Men were walking out of Shean’s Provider’s Home, wearing aprons decorated with a charming farm scene, with the logo underneath: Memory Farm™–Memories Made Fresh™. One man stood off to the side, holding a clipboard and carefully counting the younglings as they were being guided into a waiting vehicle. He wore an official-looking badge pinned to his apron–Memory Farm™ Reclaim Unit - Master.
Kai stood beside him, looking a bit sorrowful. “It’s truly heartbreaking that the Provider has passed away. It felt like his heart couldn’t go on. I guess his injuries were more serious than they seemed.”
The Memory Merchant checked off some boxes as the younglings walked past him. "Yes, I have the City Guard report right here. Fortunately, you were here. I still can't believe that none of the Providers are claiming them.”
“Well, I’m not sure they know yet,” Kai said casually, giving a playful thumb and a wink. “If you get what I mean.”
The Merchant consulted his clipboard. “I’m simply following the instructions I received, and I want to make sure I stay within the law.”
“Oh no, we wouldn’t want that now. Perish the thought.” Kai nodded in agreement.
“You know you have a small stain on your shirt.” He pointed at a small red spot on the left shirt pocket.
“Oh, I do?” Kai looked down. He sighed. “It happened so fast. We had an early lunch.” He smiled sadly at the Memory Merchant. “We used to date, you know. Unfortunately, hearts were broken.”
“Since you’re renting the Memory Farm today, you could, you know.” He tapped his logo.
“Oh, that sounds lovely, but it’s too soon.” He rubbed at that stain, but it wouldn’t come off.
There was an awkward silence as the last of the younglings were loaded and the door was securely locked. He glanced at his clipboard with a thoughtful look. “Hmm, it seems we are one short. We confiscated 14, but there is one missing.”
“Oh yes, I’m aware of that.” Kai was looking at the stain with annoyance.
He looked at Kai with raised eyebrows. “Sir?”
“Oh, don’t worry, I’m collecting that one personally.” He frowned at the stain.
“I can have someone accompany you?”
Kai looked over at him with a determined smile. “Really, I can handle one misplaced memory. I’ll be along shortly. Besides, I have Asher.” He waved cheerfully at the man standing in the Provider’s doorway, smiling warmly back at them.
“Right, we are going to put them into storage for now and process them after your contracted time is up.“
“That would be perfect.” Kai had pinched the stained area and held it away from him.
Kai smiled warmly at him, breaking the awkward silence once more. The merchant couldn’t help but feel like he was being carefully examined, almost as if he were the main dish on the menu.
“Right,” he said, “I’ll be going. The Memory Market Council thanks you for returning their merchandise.”
Kai beamed.
The Merchant hurriedly walked away as quickly as he could, fearing he might be eaten. He then jumped into the vehicle and drove off, feeling relieved to be safe.
The Provider’s neighbors were naturally friendly towards Shean and meant him no harm. Still, they were certainly cautious about getting involved with the Memory Market business. The Memory Market Council was known to be quite unfair at times, and everyone in town was aware of it.
Kai was sure he could feel them breathe a sigh of relief as the younglings were taken away. He looked around and noticed faces peeking out of windows. He waved warmly at everyone and called out to them with enthusiasm.
“It’s okay, you’re safe! Well, at least until the world ends—It won’t be long!”
The windows all went opaque.
Ah, the Underverse. It’s been a while.
“Come, Asher, we have to collect the other two.”
“What about… You know the rest.” He indicated with his thumb to the inside of the home.
Kai shrugged, “Oh, if there’s still time, we can always come back. But honestly, he was just the appetizer, and I got to enjoy the best part anyway!” He shook the stain gently. “I really need to find a new shirt.”
“So we are just going to leave him?” Asher was looking back inside hopefully.
“Like I mentioned earlier, he’s just the appetizer, so I don’t want to fill up too much. I’ve been looking forward to this meal for quite some time now.”
Asher turned back and looked a bit crestfallen. “Oh, cheer up, Asher! I’d love to share some with you.”
Asher cheered up, “Well, since you put it like that. It’s nice of you.”
Kai clapped him on the back. “No problem! Just keep an eye out for a shirt that fits me, will you? I don’t think we’ll have time to go back home. Something without blood on it would be perfect.”
Rebecca and S’Rah ducked into a women’s clothing store on their way out of the Mercantile Bazaar.
Rebecca stepped out of the changing alcove, tugging at the sleeves of the slate-blue tunic. The leather belt sat snug at her waist, and the charcoal trousers actually fit without sagging or threatening to split at the seams. She twisted her ankle experimentally in the soft leather boots and almost sighed. For the first time since arriving, she didn’t feel like she’d been dressed by a drunk carnival vendor.
S’Rah made a noise halfway between a groan and a gag. “You look like you’re auditioning for a clerkship at the Memory Bureau.”
Rebecca rolled her eyes. “They’re pants. They fit. They don’t sparkle or scream in neon. Do you know how long it’s been since I wore clothes that weren’t actively trying to humiliate me?”
“Normal is boring,” S’Rah said flatly, circling her.
“You’re blending in like a tax collector. At least the patchwork chiffon had spirit.”
“They were itchy and sparkly!” Rebecca snapped. “This—” she gestured at herself “—is sane. This is me, finally dressed like a person, not a running joke.”
S’Rah wrinkled her nose. “A very boring person. Maybe you should keep the orange shirt. At least it said something.”
Rebecca muttered, “Yeah. It said, I shaved my balls for this. Not exactly the kind of thing I want carved on my gravestone.”
S’Rah snorted, but her eyes softened. “Fine. You win. Keep your… clerk cosplay. Just don’t come crying to me when those boots dissolve in the first rainstorm.”
Rebecca grinned in spite of herself. For a moment, with real boots on her feet and a jacket that didn’t glow, she felt almost normal again. Almost.
S’Rah held up a belt with spikes and waggled her eyebrows at her.
“Oh hell no.” Rebecca laughed
"Come on, it screams authority," S’Rah pouted.
She quickly paid for the clothes before S’Rah could slip something else in the bag. She wore the pants, the boots, but she did put the shirt back on that said I EAT SLOAP. S’Rah seemed a bit mollified with that at least.
They decided to take their time and head toward the Provider’s Home, S’Rah pointing out every flashy jacket and questionable accessory along the way, each one more absurd than the last.
I wish I could bring her with me. The thought entered Rebecca’s head and flew out faster before it could settle somewhere dangerous.
––To be continued
Next Time on The Queen of the Underverse…
Shadows fall longer in Amberford, and the laughter from the Market fades fast. When the lights go out, memory isn’t the only thing that gets lost.
Don’t miss Chapter 20 - Lost In The Dark
There is a ➡️ BETA VERSION of the novel available – 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.
© 2025 Donnavon Evans
October 28, 2025
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