Veil glared down at Junnie, his distaste for her seeming to grow by the minute. He looked to me, apparently deciding I was the authority or just through with the woman who persisted in trying to kill him. “Any land that is not fey is not neutral, and you know it,” he said.
“Fine,” I replied, knowing he was right. Without access to the base magic, Veil could not be on equal ground. And as it was, his ground was growing smaller every day. “What do you propose, then, the border? I’m certain that will be private enough for your liking.”
His wing twitched. He closed his eyes. “Fine. I open my house to you, upon my invitation and under guarantee of my sworn protection…” He gestured vaguely through the air as he muttered, indicating the myriad of promises to be made by a fey lord.
I glanced at Junnie, who seemed satisfied by the oath. Surely, she could see I needed to get out of there. “Who do you want?” I asked.
“Anvil will suffice,” she said.
I nodded. “Anvil and a dozen guard, then. Grey and Steed will bring Ruby as soon as she’s well.”
“It will not be long,” Junnie answered. I felt the tension ease from my shoulders, as she’d not meant merely Ruby’s recovery but also her discovery of what secrets the changeling held. “Let us meet in two days’ time.”
Veil flicked some gesture at his own men, and fey descended from sky and canopy, rustling the leaves and blowing away ash. The clearing was suddenly washed free of the scent of spellcasting, instead smelling of summer winds and flowering vines. There were twenty of them, tall and ocher-skinned, with black dotted wings—warriors left with Junnie to represent the kingdom of fey.
The humans were going to be terrified.
24
Thea
Thea sat with Ruby for the rest of that day and throughout the night. It was well past dawn, and Ruby’s fevers and weakness had subsided. Junnie had tended the other wounds as well, sending Thea with instructions for further care and suggestions on how she might force Ruby into actually allowing her ministrations.
It would be easy enough, Thea thought, given that everyone knew that the following day, there would be a call for a meeting with the fey lord. If what they’d said was true, they were all fortunate that the changeling wanted Ruby alive. Otherwise, his plans would have played out with no one the wiser. The fey lands would slowly have been starved for power, and the fey, needing that energy to sustain themselves, would have spread into the surrounding kingdoms in search of a way to live again. Nothing good could come of a desperate, dying race of beings set on stealing energy, but only worse could come from the fey.
Thea stood alone with the horses while the others prepared supplies, watching Ruby where she sat leaning against a tree, stitching her uniform back into order. Both kept their backs to the humans, who were bustling about the encampment since daylight had come. There was something quietly unsettling about the beings, and no one except maybe the fey relished being near them.
Thea shook off a chill as she recalled the predatory glances Veil’s men had given the humans. She’d not spent much time around fey, all in all, but the more she did, the less she wanted of it.
Ruby and Thea did not speak. After Ruby’s health had proven to be good enough, the stress of finding her and making her safe had gone, to be replaced with a new sort of weight, one that was less urgent and more like the dangers the kingdoms had faced in the past. Thea tried not to think of how many had been lost in the massacre so long ago, because what was done was done, and there was no good that would come by keeping it near. She would not forget—none of them would—but remembering and dwelling were two separate spheres. Everyone had lost something from the tragedy of the massacre, and most, like Barris, had lost far more than she had.
She vowed anew to work hard, to do what she could to help her father, and to keep her focus on doing right by the guard.
A hand slid slowly behind Thea’s as she brushed a palm across the shoulder of her horse, shadowing her movements with slow, easy grace.
“He’s one of my favorites,” Thea said. She was glad the animal had survived their ride through fey lands, and she hoped it would remain so during their return. Behind her, Steed did not reply, but she felt him there, his steady breath and even pulse a signal to the animals that they were safe and that all was well.
He moved to lift a pack onto the horse, and Thea backed one step away.
Ruby did not look up from her sewing. “When we return, Steed should take you farther into the stables, where he keeps the absolute best of the stock.” Even with her face turned down, Thea could see the small twitch at the edge of Ruby’s lips as she added, “Why, even Lord Freya’s beast is there.”
Steed froze in his fastenings, giving his sister a look that spoke of utter betrayal.
Thea bit back her own grin at his response. She’d lived in Camber and had been on the castle grounds long enough to have heard some of the better gossip. It shouldn’t have surprised them both that she already knew that Frey had named the horse she’d been given after Steed.
She shrugged one shoulder. “Not as if I’ve not named animals after him before.”
Steed turned his wary gaze to her, and Ruby cracked a grin, waiting for the payoff. Thea’s tone was steady. “There was a wiry boar we had for years. The cursed thing was so stubborn we could never get him to root anywhere inside of a pen. He would dig out, chase Cora around the yard, and then burrow beneath the porch. We finally had to eat him.”
Steed’s expression was flat.
Ruby snorted.
Grey approached the group, his attention solely for Ruby and her easy mood. Thea could remember that when they were younger, he would always greet her with a comment about her causing trouble. He did not do so that day. “We leave now. Anvil and the rest will depart after dawn to meet with the fey lord. We should return to the castle before Frey and the others have gone.”
Ruby had said they’d all been delaying action until after sunrise just to annoy Veil, but Thea wasn’t certain what that meant. Ruby didn’t seem to mind waiting longer, though, as Grey stared down at her and she went about repairing the leather of her garment.
He tucked a thumb into his knife belt. “Would you like me to haul you from the ground?”
She glanced up with a look that dared him to.
He smirked. “I have orders that supersede yours, I’m afraid.”
Ruby’s face paled. Thea supposed that was the reprimand she knew would be coming from the Lord of the North. Ruby slipped the needle back into her pouch, jerking the leather bits into place as she stood. Considering what she’d been through, she didn’t look half bad, but she kept fiddling with the straps and belts, working to get them into proper order.
Grey stood very near, watching, but he didn’t touch her.
Thea remembered that, too—the way he’d always been there and the way Ruby had never allowed him in. It was because of her mother and what had happened. Thea’s gaze trailed away from the exchange and found Steed watching her.
They’d both been younger when Ruby came along, and it was easy to forget what life had been like before. The fey came of age so fast, and even if she was only half fey, Ruby had seemed to catch up with them all in the blink of an eye. It was as if she’d always been there.
Thea supposed that for Steed, the feeling was even stronger. She shook herself from the ruminations and took over the task of readying her horse. Steed had told her not to let the task go to anyone else’s hand when she’d the choice, but she’d stood by and let him do it for her. She didn’t suspect he counted as anyone else, though.
They mounted up, and as they rode past the makeshift houses of the humans there, the Council guard did not pay them mind. Junnie did not come out to see them off, either— she would not leave the changeling alone, especially not with a horde of high fey killers on hand. Isa did come to bid them farewell, though. She stood petite and proud among a line of Council guard, the only one of the group who met their eyes. She inclined her
head at Thea then murmured something soft to Ruby and to Steed.
It might have been easy to presume that the girl felt alone there, but she was far from that. She had the guard and her gardens, and she tended to uncountable humans. The girl would likely never have felt at home at Junnie’s side while she was head of Council, and being a halfling probably weighed heavily on her beneath the watchful eye of so many light elves.
Isa was not made for growing and working earth. Her father had been a powerful dark elf, and he’d given her a bit of that magic, surely, in addition to whatever let her into the minds of the humans.
Thea pursed her lips, and Steed drew his horse up beside hers. “What’s wrong?”
She shook her head. “Nothing. I just…” She glanced behind them, past her own guard, who was all dressed in black, to the bright hair and light robes of the Council sentries—to the humans.
Steed waited.
She sighed. “It doesn’t—I mean, you know how the breeding works.” His face pinched on one side, clearly trying to puzzle what she was angling at. “It doesn’t make sense, is all. You’d have to have at least old blood”—she frowned—“at least any of a bloodline to pass a trait like that on.”
Steed’s expression fell into something reserved.
Thea bit her cursed tongue. She was a guard. She had no business talking about a Council head’s charge who also happened to be blood of the dark elf lord whom Thea herself had volunteered under.
But that was the thing that was bothering her. Isa was only related to Frey through Asher. She should only have been able to access that dark magic. Frey’s power, and her ability to reach the mind of animals, came from her mother’s line—from Junnie’s line.
Frey’s mother was Eliza. Eliza’s mother, Junnie’s sister, was Vita, the light elf who was rumored to have been stolen by Asher. Thea had heard countless versions of the tale: how he’d spirited her away in the night and how she’d gone willingly, having longed for a being as powerful as she was. Sometimes, they were told as romantic tales, sometimes cautionary. But in the end, Vita had always died. Grief had taken her, and no one dared to tell fancy tales or spin legends from them.
The sisters Vita and Junnie were a pair of the most powerful light elves from one of the most powerful lines. No one was surprised to find the whispers of a special talent among them to be true. But when Asher had taken her, when a light elf had sat upon the seat at a dark elf’s side, brazen upon a throne, it had caused a shift within the kingdoms. Thea had heard the stories, though her father had never spoken of them himself. By the time Eliza was born, the rift in the union of the kingdoms of all elves had grown into a chasm, filled with dissent and distrust.
And then Eliza had borne the child of a human: a halfbreed.
And the old Order of Light Elves had turned on the kingdom of the dark. The coup had taken hold, and the events leading to the massacre had fallen into motion. The Council had killed untold numbers. So many had been lost, light and dark alike, and every human who had been called to battle, every human Eliza had thrust into that world as her last-ditch effort to save her daughter, to end the reign of her father, had been slaughtered in their makeshift army. They were like chattel.
As they made their way farther from the settlement, Steed stayed silent at Thea’s side. It was not until they’d passed through the trees and into the next clearing, the one that brought them to the edge of the fey forest, that he answered her confusion. “The girl does not possess that same talent,” he said.
Thea’s eyes snapped to him, but Steed kept his posture straight, his gaze on the forest.
“She can only reach the humans.”
Thea stared, bewildered. But he was right. The girl had never once seemed to attempt using the power on a beast, not even that giant dog. And the wolves had seemed to terrify her. “So how can she reach humans when she can’t touch a simple beast?”
Steed inclined his head, because yes, that was the question.
25
Frey
I waited at the window of Anvil’s study, dressed and ready for battle with the fey. Veil had promised us protection, but that did not mean any of us would come unprepared for a fight. We should have gone already, but I had something pressing to take care of first.
Kieran opened the door, leading in my guests.
I turned to find Thea, laden with a half-dozen satchels, followed by Ruby, Grey, and Steed. Thea looked up, searching for a place to settle her burden, and went still at the sight of me. She opened her mouth, possibly to apologize, then snapped it shut again. She made to leave, but Kieran stood in her way.
“Thea,” I said, bringing her attention back to me.
“Lord Freya.” She managed a sort of incline to her head, more than I expected, given that the rest of her was loaded with what were likely Ruby’s bags.
I could think of no other reason why she would be required to carry them herself. Ruby would not have wanted anything she planned to use for tonics handled by someone who didn’t understand the proper method of dealing with them.
With my arms crossed behind my back, I straightened to face her. I inclined my own head, and for a moment, Thea looked as if she might step back. “Thank you,” I explained, “for your continued service to my guard.”
She seemed confused, as if she hadn’t realized she’d not only kept Steed alive when he was attacked by the fey the last time but had also risked her neck to stay with him when he’d traveled to find Junnie and then into fey lands. And more recently, again, knowing what was at stake, she’d stayed at his side and risked her own self in order to aid him and to aid Ruby.
“You have consistently offered support to my Seven and have gone above and beyond in your duties. It will not be forgotten.”
Thea went pale. She glanced around the room as if searching for someone to help her, but no one did.
“You may go.” I glanced at Kieran, who nodded, seemingly understanding that she’d seemed a bit overwhelmed. He followed her out, and I knew that he would give her a copy of the missive I’d drawn up to send her parents.
Once the door closed behind them, Steed and Grey stood formally at either side of Ruby. She had her head down, but after a moment, she drew a long breath and faced me with an emotion that seemed to be made of more mourning than regret. She stepped forward, reaching out to hand me the signet from her uniform, a small carved medallion showing the symbols of my crest, the badge of the Seven.
I stared at her. “You dare attempt to abandon your duties after what you have done?”
My tone was sharp, and Ruby flinched, but she didn’t draw back her hand.
“Is that what you think? That after all this, you can just walk away?”
I took a step toward her, forcing her outstretched hand to become an awkward gesture, her offering uncomfortable in every sense. “You have risked the lives of your Seven and of our guard—of every single person in this kingdom. Everyone who relies on me, on us to keep their skin.”
Her expression fell, but I only moved closer.
“You think that by protecting us from a changeling, you’re making a sacrifice that has to be made. That decision is not up to you. You are of the Seven. You do not get to choose us over you.” I took one more step, pressing her further. “This is not your sacrifice to make, Summit.”
Ruby stared up at me, her green eyes glistening with fear.
I didn’t know whether it was fear that I was angry at her, that she was about to lose everything she’d meant to save, or that I would actually let her go. My voice was low and level when I said, “Put that badge on, now. I do not want to see you without it again.”
Her fingers curled around the metal as she bore it before her chest.
I held her gaze. “For what you have done, you owe the Seven and this kingdom your service.” It sounded like a sentence, but I didn’t care. Ruby had to understand.
She swallowed hard.
Suddenly, I could not look at her or let her speak. “Take her to her
rooms,” I ordered Grey. “She’ll submit to Junnie’s instructions for her care and stay on castle grounds until our return.”
Grey gave a slight nod and took Ruby by the elbow. His hand was still marked with evidence of nearly being burned alive.
“Oh, and Grey?” I said to his back. “If a single fey sets foot or wing anywhere near her, I expect them to be shot from the sky.”
He glanced back at me over his shoulder, and I had no doubt that he would happily comply.
When the door closed behind them, I let my shoulders ease and my gaze fall to Steed. “I’m nearly afraid to ask, but what have you learned that merits time before we leave for this congress?”
By the time we reached Veil’s home, it was late in the day. He had met us at the border, despite the fact that Junnie was transporting a bound changeling through fey lands. I supposed I shouldn’t have been surprised that he’d allowed her to go without escort, given that he’d made it clear that he wanted Pitt dead—and whether or not Junnie was taken with him in an attempt, the fey lord likely did not care.
When we approached the tall trees that served as support for his abode, Veil glanced at me with a bit of a smirk. I frowned up at the structure, all open air and glass, remembering how I’d been lifted to enter the last time. Veil’s heliotropes were gone, and I suspected Chevelle would not allow the high fey lord to hoist him from the ground, not that I’d even trust him to do it.
“We don’t have time for games,” I said.
Veil barked a mirthless laugh and launched into the air.
From behind us, several of his new fey allies moved in to offer us aid.
Chevelle did not need to give me a look to indicate he was displeased. He did it anyway. I sighed, holding my staff carefully away from the fey as he took hold of the weapons belt across my back and shoulder. I glanced at Anvil, where he stood with his arms crossed over his wide chest, and he said, “I’ll wait here.”
The Frey Saga Book V Page 12
