Junnie’s guard loosed their arrows, striking true in their targets and missing every wolf. Missing even the watching fey. Junnie too did not look away, though her eyes held more satisfaction than Veil thought could be seen in his.
The dragon shrieked, rising high above the melee in a darkening sky. After it was done, when the final mist had settled and the last spellcaster was no more, Junnie called the wolves back to her own land. The water rose to brush against the remains of the spellcast blackness, hissing and purring before it fell again away. The land was washed clean where Junnie stood, but the fey side was nothing but blood and ash, littered with the bodies of his own kind. Junnie let her gaze stay on Veil a moment longer, her men tending to the wounded animals with the care they might show their own.
She wanted him to see that she’d betrayed her own laws—or maybe that she’d written new ones—in order to see her vengeance through.
He didn’t think he liked the taste it left in his mouth, though that might just have been the blood and the ash.
Liana was suddenly beside him, standing silently as she watched the light elves move away, apparently unstirred by the slaughter of so many of her kind and unaffected by the battle they’d just waged. Her skin was dark and bruise-like, the color vague and unsettling, though Veil thought that, too, might have just been the blood and the ash.
21
Frey
I drew back from the fight, from the mind of the dragon, to the flicker of torchlight and the shock of nothing happening, aside from the steady scratch of quill on paper. Energy pulsed through me, my body charged and mind alight. My shoulders rose and fell with breath, the bewildering change to stillness and near silence overwhelming. I let out a huff of air, and the noise seemed deafening.
Chevelle glanced up at me.
My mouth popped open, but I couldn’t quite get words to come.
“Is something amiss?” he asked, as if maybe I’d seen a shifty figure at the gate or some guard not doing their duties.
I heard myself laugh.
Chevelle set down his quill.
I was suddenly grinning, a wild and dangerous emotion thrilling through me. This did not seem an assurance to him. I pressed a hand to my chest, heart hammering beneath my palm but no longer due to the stress of the fight. Then I remembered I’d abandoned the dragon. I shook my head, closing my eyes to drop back into the mind of the beast. To my surprise, he had not flown south or toward his home. He was heading in our direction, as if he had intended to return to the castle. I decided to let him go for a bit to see if I was right.
When I opened my eyes again, Chevelle had moved closer. His expression was grave.
I took hold of his hand. “The spellcasters are dead.” His brows knit, so I explained, “Junnie and the fey at the border. I saw it through the dragon.”
He looked at me strangely for a moment, likely owing to the distance of the border, then let go a long breath. I could not help the grin that returned to my face. For so long, I had struggled with the issue of whether to stay in the castle as lord or to go out and help our people. I had just won a way in which I could do both, a way in which the distance could be conquered.
And we had killed the spellcasters. The force behind the deadening was no more.
We only needed to stop the darkness they’d left behind. I shoved to standing, tottering as I rose too close to Chevelle. He steadied me with a hand on my arm and with a look.
“To the study,” I said. “We need to tell the others.”
Liana returned from the fight—to our castle and not to her own kind—in the dark of night. She’d left the blood and ash covering her skin, partially bared by what appeared to be a torn sapphire gown. It was difficult to be certain of the color, as filthy as the fabric was. She’d walked right through the front gates, letting all who wished witness her pageant, along with those who had no interest. When she was met with the head of the guard, she requested an audience with the Lord of the North.
“Shall I bring her to the throne room?” Kieran asked when word finally reached us.
I shook my head. “The study is fine.” She’d practically lived in the castle for weeks, making herself so at home that before she’d left for the festival, she’d ordered our seamstress to cut her a gown. I didn’t know why suddenly she’d decided to approach her visits as formal, but I could only assume it was owing to my business with Veil.
I glanced at Chevelle, who was already fastening his sword belt. I shoved a dagger into my own but did little else in the way of arming my person. I did not trust Liana, but I was not afraid of her physically. The changeling’s magic was nowhere near as dangerous as her maneuvering.
When we entered the corridor, we were met with Dree’s approach, her agile hands carrying an array of wine. “Leave it in our room,” I told her. “We won’t be long.” The corner of her mouth twitched, and I wondered if the entire castle staff had heard of my dealings with the fey.
A look passed between Chevelle and the guards at the end of the corridor, one I presumed meant stand at the door until our return. He’d been exceptionally watchful since Veil’s last intrusion.
Steed, Anvil, Rhys, and Rider were still in the study from our earlier meeting, and they glanced up, eyes narrowing at our entrance.
“Liana,” I explained, frowning because the single word was enough to encompass all the visit might entail.
Steed and Anvil were mostly healed from their journey to retrieve the dragon, though I noticed Steed had not pushed up his shirtsleeves until after I had gone. A thin red line, crisscrossed with even stitching, ran over his forearm. When he caught my eyes on it, he gave me a look. I threw him one right back.
Chevelle cleared his throat. “Liana will know more about the spellcasters’ magic than she will let on. We need to do what we can to gain that information.”
Rhys and Rider nodded. Anvil only scratched his chin. I was with Anvil—it was likely Liana would give us no more than what she already intended.
I sighed, taking a chair at the head of the table while Chevelle positioned himself near the window, where he stood with a hand on his sword. I remembered the last bargain we’d made with Liana, trading the diary in exchange for her hold over Chevelle. I’d never figured out exactly what the changeling had wanted with him, but as I thought of it in this new light, with the manuscripts and documents scattered over the long table describing ancient magic and the weaving of spells, a sick sort of feeling rose in my stomach.
Chevelle did not meet my gaze. His eyes were on the door, and I followed them to find the changeling fey.
“We see you,” I snapped at her display. “Feel free to change into something less filthy.”
Liana smiled, showing too many too-straight teeth. “No need to put on airs,” she said.
I watched her move leisurely into the room, wondering if her current appearance was entirely for show. Maybe the battle had stolen the last of her energy, and she was unable to shift further. It seemed unlikely. The battle had been on fey ground.
She stopped before me, and I had the feeling she was annoyed that I hadn’t made more ceremony of her arrival.
“What is it?” I asked.
She inclined her head slightly, bringing a fisted hand up for offer. At my look, she shifted a brow then turned her hand over and opened the fist. Resting on the changeling’s palm was a dragonstone. My dragonstone.
My gaze snapped back to hers, my emotions flashing between anger and confusion. “What is this?”
“A gift from the lord of the high fey court.”
It was not a gift. The stone was mine. So it was something else, but I didn’t know if it was another clue or more maneuvering.
“The spellcasters are dead,” Liana said, “but you know that.” She shifted her hand closer, urging me to take the stone. “Now, your bargain must be upheld. The price for your halfling’s release must be paid.”
I kept my eyes on Liana as I reached for the stone. It was dark and sharp and strangely
warm against her hand.
It was not that the stone was overly warm. It was that Liana’s flesh had been cool. The idea snagged my thoughts, wanting attention, but the dragonstone wanted it more.
The stone waited in my palm, heavy with familiar energy. Small as it was, the dragonstone was ancient, and within it lay a power that felt as strong as my brushes with some of the worst of the high fey. My eyes shot back to Liana’s.
She purred.
“Veil gifted me a stone with fey energy.”
“Yes,” she said. “It’s the only proper way to keep a dragonstone. I don’t know why you’d have one any other way.” Her dark eyes floated to Rhys and Rider. “It will need to be fitted within her staff.”
I clenched my jaw to prevent my mouth from dropping open. I wanted to ask why Veil would gift me something that would give me such control over my powers. But I remembered how the other stone had busted and the way I’d used the staff in our battle at Hollow Forest. My stomach dropped. “He wants me to use it to fulfill my bargain.”
“Of course,” Liana said flatly. She brushed her palms together. “Now, let’s go. It’s time to wake the halfling.”
22
Ruby
Ruby smelled something sharp and sweet a moment before searing fire shot through her veins. She leapt to her feet, boots knocking glass vials from the table to shatter on the stone floor. She shook her head, pressing her eyes closed to clear the fog. When she opened them again, she stared down from her perch on the work table to see a changeling fey. Liana.
Ruby hissed.
Liana crossed her arms. “Well, that is just entirely lacking the appreciation it ought.”
Ruby scanned the other figures in the room: her brother, Steed, shirtsleeves rolled up and arms at the ready near his sides, Chevelle and Anvil, expressions stern but weapons sheathed, and Freya, who had that same stubborn set to her jaw as the first time Ruby had seen her, though her current bearing was nowhere near the awkward and bumbling girl she had once seemed. Freya was Lord of the North, and she looked mad as hell.
“I’m here.” The low voice came from behind Ruby, settling her jagged nerves. “You’re safe.”
Her instinct was to turn and give Grey a look at the latter comment, but she held steady. She did not want to face him in front of so many after the terror of her dreams, after the burning.
“You could have brought her out slowly,” Frey snapped at Liana.
The changeling only shrugged. “She doesn’t respond the way others do. It’s entirely a gamble.”
Frey’s scowl softened as she turned back to Ruby. “How do you feel?” Sliding a slender hand over the clasp at her vest where the medallion was carved with the hawk and snake of her crest, Frey added, “Aside from disoriented.”
Ruby nodded. It was maybe all she could manage at the moment. Frey moved forward with a waterskin, though Steed still looked as if he was ready to trap a wild animal. Ruby took the proffered container with a trembling hand. A strange expression passed over Frey’s face as their skin brushed, but whatever it was disappeared in a blink.
Ruby took a long draw from the bag, tasting the spice of warm winter wine. She drew a ragged breath, eyes going to the changeling Liana, who smelled instead of ripe summer fruit. Ruby’s lip drew up to bare her teeth.
Liana held her gaze. “It’s time.”
Time. Time to repay the debt. Time to fulfill a bargain made on Ruby’s behalf.
Ruby leapt down from the table, landing between Steed and Frey. “Right,” she said. “Next time, don’t wait so long to wake me.”
She did not want to explain what she’d seen in the darkness and did not want to talk about how she felt. She only wanted this over, done, to be alone with her waking self.
She wanted to let go the rage and fear simmering inside her.
So Ruby did not say another word as she strode from the room. It was time, and Ruby meant to prepare for battle.
23
Frey
“I want three guards at her door,” I snapped at Kieran, “and seven more at each end of the hall.” His brows drew together and I added, “If she leaves, if she goes too silent, if anything at all happens or does not, come here to inform me.”
Kieran inclined his head in a sharp nod, then turned and strode from the room. Dree and Ena followed behind him, having settled the last of their trays onto a makeshift table before Ruby. Ruby had left her healing bed and strode directly to the armory, fitting herself in guard-issue clothes and with a bevy of knives. Her red curls were tied tightly into braids at the base of her neck, but she still smelled of herbs from Liana’s ministrations. She ripped into another hunk of meat, apparently ravenous. Grey’s eyes stayed on me as I blinked at the sight of her devouring half of the display. I shook my head, facing the others with a sigh.
Anvil and Steed leaned against the dark stone wall of the training room, and Chevelle stood nearby. He had not intervened in my orders to surround Liana’s room with guards, despite having already given orders himself. None of us wanted the changeling within earshot of the discussion we were about to have.
The light of early dawn began to creep through the high windows. I tapped a finger against my bracer then crossed and uncrossed my arms. “Word from Rhys and Rider?”
Steed nodded toward the door, a tall, carved-wood affair opposite us in the massive open space. The door opened, evidence of both my distraction and the inferior hearing of my blunt human ears.
The brothers strode into the training room, my carved ironwood staff in Rider’s hand.
“That was fast,” I said, ignoring the look Chevelle gave me because I’d clearly just been impatient for their return.
Rhys inclined his head. “The work on the staff was mostly complete. It was only a matter of adding the stone. Binding it.”
As they moved nearer, I had to still the urge to reach for my staff. It was unsettling how I’d grown so attached to it, and I refused to give in, instead curling my fingers into my palms. “Have you tested it?”
Rider chuckled. “We are not so brave.”
“Did it bind well?” Chevelle’s voice came from beside me. I’d not even heard him move.
I shook my fists loose, wanting to be rid of the tension that was tingling through me.
“It will be fine,” Ruby said from my other side.
I startled then rubbed my eyes. I needed to get a hold on my edginess and the energy pushing it.
“It appears to have bound together seamlessly.” Rider held the staff aloft, its stone at eye level. It was jagged and dark, very unlike the stone that had been there before.
“If this gets into the wrong hands—”
I cut Ruby off with a look then remembered how long she’d been under. “The spellcasters are dead.”
My words were flat, but Ruby only smiled. “That uncomplicates things.”
The spellcasters had used Ruby as a conduit at Hollow Forest. I wasn’t certain if her concern had been for them doing so again, or only that she’d intended to plot her revenge. I pressed my lips, letting my gaze roam over her pallid face. Liana had done well with keeping her alive, but Ruby still needed time to recover. She’d been unconscious for what felt like ages. “Also,” I said, “we have a dragon.”
She jerked back just a little, and I had the pleasure of catching her rare surprise. She stared at me. “Why would you not tell me that first?”
I chuckled, but when her gaze traveled to her brother, I wondered if she was thinking of his faint pink burns and stitched-up arm. I cleared my throat. “Now that the spellcasters are gone, you are the last in possession of the knowledge used to spell your talent and mine into beings to whom it does not come naturally.”
She frowned. Then she waved a hand, her wrists bare of bracelets and baubles. “None of that matters now. We have what we must to heal the land.”
I felt my jaw go slack. “Do we?”
She gestured toward the staff in Rider’s hand. “The fey lord has gifted you fey ener
gy.” Ruby’s glittering emerald eyes came back to mine. “And within you are the dark and the light.” Her eyes strayed to Chevelle, but the tingling within my palms gave way to a sway, to the sensation of standing in a hard wind that has suddenly ceased.
“Ruby,” I breathed, “what are you saying?”
She swallowed, wrapping a hand firmly around my upper arm. “I haven’t seen that look on you in a while.” Her words fell into muttering as she settled me onto a stool that had been provided by Grey.
Ruby knelt before me, and even though I sat on the stool, she had to look up to face me. “It was why the ruby was so important.” Her voice was low, her face solemn. “It was not merely a stone,” Ruby said. “The ruby you retrieved from the vault had been spelled by Asher to act as a conduit itself. It may have worked for smaller castings, but he did not have the power to reach that energy in the amount he needed, not in the way—” Her words fell away again, seeming to dry up.
I felt Chevelle and Anvil shift behind me. Grey leaned in to hand Ruby a metal cup. After a long draw, she pressed her fingers across her lips then started again. “They needed a better conduit for what the changelings had in mind. They needed to open a vein into the energy’s flow. When they could not manage it with stones, they went for me. It worked.”
“How long have you known this?” My voice was strange to my ears, though I wasn’t sure what Ruby heard.
Her face pinched. “I knew as soon as Veil and Liana drew me from the darkness—from the fires. When I became that conduit and as they broke me free.”
Liana was a changeling. Veil was a fey lord.
I glanced again at the staff held by two elves from the ice lands, the feel of their magic oddly chilly. “Liana,” I said. “The moment she touched the staff… When we were attacked in Veil’s home and Pitt was taken, she retrieved it for me.” I breathed. “Her magic was cold. It’s been that way ever since. And when Ruby woke, it was as if I could feel it on her skin.” Ruby’s gaze did not waver. Ruby knew. “You felt like Liana. You felt as if your fire had gone cool.”
The Frey Saga Book VI Page 10
