Rise of the Seven

by Melissa Wright

  The Frey Saga Book III:

  Rise of The Seven

  Melissa Wright

  Copyright 2012 by Melissa Wright

  Smashwords Edition

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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  Contents

  Chapter 1 Frey

  Chapter 2 Chevelle

  Chapter 3 Meeting

  Chapter 4 Practice

  Chapter 5 Pretender

  Chapter 6 Banquet

  Chapter 7 Inferno

  Chapter 8 Excursion

  Chapter 9 Journey

  Chapter 10 Betrayal

  Chapter 11 Decision

  Chapter 12 Second

  Chapter 13 Veil

  Chapter 14 Prisoner

  Chapter 15 Gift

  Chapter 16 Threat

  Chapter 17 Breaking

  Chapter 18 First Light

  Chapter 19 Myst

  Chapter 20 Messengers

  Chapter 21 Reckoning

  Chapter 22 Summoning

  Chapter 23 Unexpected

  Chapter 24 Blood and Bone

  Chapter 25 New Beginnings

  Chapter One

  Frey

  I couldn’t say I wasn’t slightly disappointed when I got my memory back. Somehow, I’d expected to be smarter. I mean, I wasn’t an idiot, I’d just thought the old me was exceptionally clever, knew everything, sharp. She had been in line for the throne, after all. And, aside from that, I was certain I’d be less clumsy. I mean, come on, surely that was because of the bonds, because they’d messed with my brain. But I wasn’t. And not only had I retained most of my awkwardness, it seemed worse, because everyone was watching me now.

  I held back a sigh as my gaze again traveled the room full of elves. Yep, all watching me. I automatically straightened my shoulders, which were heavy with thick armored plates, my new decoration for formal gatherings. A lean, raven-haired elf who I’d recognized as once being a leader in the eastern range seemed to make the decision to approach but, before he’d moved more than three steps, Rider was in front of him, matching his height and distracting his attention from me. I glanced at Rhys, who appeared to be scanning the room for others who would attempt approach. I’d had enough. I stood, hand sliding to rest on the hilt of the sword at my waist, and addressed the crowd.

  “Your attendance is greatly appreciated. Please enjoy the feast and the wine. Good evening.”

  As I stepped down, the room was silent. I could see the smirk on Anvil’s broad face but I didn’t care, I turned from the gathering and slipped out of the room. I knew why I was there, knew I needed to make appearances, a showing of my position, but I really hated castle politics. My guard had been doing what they could, keeping the most troublesome leaders from a private conference. And they had handled the stream of subjects who’d lined up at the season change for audience with me. Me, Lord of the North.

  I snorted, shaking my head, and someone laughed. I looked up to find Grey, leaning against a corridor wall, watching me. His smile held a thousand secrets. “What?” I demanded, defensive.

  He simply shook his head and straightened to join me. “And where are we headed?” he asked.

  I didn’t have the slightest idea. “The library,” I answered confidently, having no other option for the direction I’d been going.

  He laughed again, seeing through me with ease. “To see Ruby, I presume?”

  Agh, I hadn’t known she was there. Ruby, though I considered her invaluable in my guard, had felt the need to hide during our “showings” because before I’d been bound, northern rule hadn’t tolerated fairies. It was something I’d have to work on changing, slowly.

  “I’d like to see if she’s made any progress,” I lied. I knew the moment I saw her she’d spill whatever she’d been researching, so it was a relatively safe lie.

  Grey only smiled. His devotion to Ruby was boundless, but he knew her character as well as I did and better. She was going to be pissed.

  Her head popped up the moment we entered the room, red curls bouncing with the movement. “Well, that was fast,” she chided. She glanced out the window as if she were checking the height of the sun, though it was dark with night. “You’ll not set yourself by running out on guests after a matter of minutes.”

  We all knew I’d made it at least an hour but I didn’t argue the point. “Ah,” I said, “I mean to make a reputation as a mysterious captain.”

  “Mysterious and all-powerful,” she replied thoughtfully, and then changed the subject as she saw my jaw tighten. It was no secret I was uncomfortable with my new strength. It would have been enough to have regained my own power, but I’d been inundated with that of Asher, and all those before him. I could still see his lips move, a silent stream of the words that would release me, the recital that would drive the forces of so many he had taken into my very soul.

  “So, I found several stories regarding the wolves,” she announced, smoothly pulling me from my trance.

  I smiled. She’d been obsessed with Finn and Keaton since the moment she’d found I’d known them before, and I’d not been willing to give up their secrets. Truth be told, I didn’t entirely know the whole story, but it was fun to mess with Ruby.

  She grimaced when she saw my mood change. It annoyed the crap out of her. Occasionally, I felt a little guilty about it because, after all, she had helped deliver me from the evils of Grand Council, but it was too entertaining not to keep up and it wasn’t like she didn’t have it coming after what she’d put me through when I was bound.

  She snapped the book she’d been reading shut. My cheeks tightened, fighting to pull back the smile, and her face nearly caused laughter to boil up.

  Grey intervened. “Well, since Freya has left us without the benefit of the feast, I say we head to the kitchen.”

  Ruby took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and walked right past us.

  “I think she preferred the old me.” I laughed as Grey and I followed.

  Her head poked back through the door as we were nearly to it, and she started to speak, thought better of it, and turned to continue on her way. I saw Grey’s smile out of the corner of my eye.

  When we reached the kitchen, Ruby’s posture changed the instant she stepped through the door. As I entered behind her, I saw the reason why.

  “Steed!” she exclaimed, bouncing forward to greet her brother.

  I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. I glanced nervously around the room. My eye caught Steed’s and he grinned, sly and sexy. “He wasn’t hungry.”

  I forced my expression to confused, though I knew exactly who he meant. Every one of us did. Steed ignored my attempted bluff and stepped toward me. “You look well, Sunshine.”

  I laughed. He’d been such a charmer when I was bound, but now his banter was only for play. There was someone else for me. My stomach turned, and I had to bite down before I asked where he was.

  It had been an underhanded thing to do, I knew that. But as we stood among the remains of battle, after all was settled and my memories returned, I had panicked. I had been overwhelmed with the power I held, the emotions that threatened to run feral, the realization of all that had happened and what would follow. And I’d been chicken. Plain and simple.

  I’d been aware of his eyes on me the entire time, and, as we finalized affairs, I ordered him and Steed away. Ordered. I could
still see the look on his face, the set of his jaw, the strain of muscle at his neck and shoulder. I’d directed them to finish off Asher’s guard, his supporters. To find and eliminate them. Make a show of it, I’d said. The kingdom will know I’ve returned.

  It was the last thing I’d said to him. I had been certain, at the time, I would figure out what to do, how to deal with it, get a handle on my emotions. That had been nearly two weeks ago. My palms felt swollen and clammy but I couldn’t decide whether the anxiousness was because I wanted, needed to see him, or because I was coward still.

  “No,” Ruby said, “I didn’t like the old you better.”

  My gaze snapped to her, genuinely confused this time.

  “You were fun, yes,” she explained, “but you got that vacant stare.” She narrowed her eyes on me. “And I could never tell where you were.” Ruby smiled, making it clear she knew exactly where my mind was now.

  I brushed past her to where Grey and Steed leaned against the table. They’d apparently been watching my daze as well. Grey offered me something to eat but I had absolutely no interest.

  I needed to get out of there, badly.

  “I’m glad you’re back,” I said as I turned to Steed.

  He looked doubtful, but he gave me a smile anyway. “I am, too. Can’t wait to see what you’ve done with the place.”

  I nodded absently and excused myself.

  When I’d hit the hall, I’d had to force myself to remain standing, not to bend over, brace myself on my knees, and hyperventilate. I had myself fully under control now, the fear firmly back in check. I was ashamed of it, and I’d been determined to overcome it. I’d just not been able to do that yet. And the realization scared me even worse.

  It felt out of control, the wave of need that accompanied any thought of him. And I had a lot of thoughts about him. A lot. Most of them centered around the one night I’d spent in his arms. But that wasn’t what scared me, that had been incredible. What scared me was what that night stood for, what I had, or had nearly, sacrificed for it. I had, no, we all had, gone through so much to restore myself from the bonds forced upon me by council, only to fall into a new set, just as dangerous.

  The problem was, I couldn’t decide whether these bonds had taken. I felt the need, yes. I felt the yearning, the pull. I knew the connection was in place, but I couldn’t know if it was a full bond. It didn’t feel secure enough, not as I’d been taught, warned it would happen. I couldn’t be sure whether that was due to the fact that I’d been bound already, my magic not fully in place, or because I was not wholly elf. Because I was half human. There was no way to know how that type of bond would affect me. But when his eyes were on me, I knew I would run right back into his arms. If the bond wasn’t set already, it would be, the instant I got close enough to touch him.

  It was why I’d sent him away, though I could never admit it. There was too much at stake.

  I reached out and traced the cool stone of the wall as I walked. It had long been a habit of mine, reminding me of my childhood years, running carefree through these corridors, arms outstretched as if in flight. My laughter had echoed through the halls, whether alone or being chased by Chevelle. The touch centered me now. My fingers trailed lazily around the corner as I walked through the door to my room.

  And froze as I found Chevelle.

  Chapter Two

  Chevelle

  Chevelle leaned casually back in the chair, though the set of his mouth proved he was anything but. I forced myself to move, walking my fingers the last few inches of door frame before lowering them to my side in artificial nonchalance.

  He didn’t speak.

  I felt the hand I’d lowered slide up my leg and, before I had a chance to fiddle nervously with it, raised it to tuck the hair behind my ear. The gesture seemed to unnerve him. I almost smiled.

  I watched him watch me for a moment. But that wasn’t going anywhere good. Right, then.

  “Were you able to locate the remainder of the guard?” I asked, forcing any emotion from my tone.

  “Mostly. Axe, Frost, Steele, and Waters proved difficult. It appears they were warned,” he answered smoothly.

  “Anyone of note unfound?”

  “Only Rowan, but he has a knack for such.”

  I nodded. Knowing Rowan, he might not resurface for a century. “And the show?”

  “Oh, yes,” he answered grimly. “We made quite a spectacle of it.”

  “News has not traveled back to us. Have you received any word of reaction?”

  I could tell he really didn’t want to answer.

  I waited.

  “Not all were convinced. I would suggest a gathering.”

  Damn.

  He saw my hesitation. I’d developed some bad habits during the time I’d spent bound. I’d been working to regain the control I’d spent my childhood forming, the ability to mask emotion that seemed to come so easily to the others. I nearly had it mastered, but Chevelle knew me well.

  “This isn’t simply your distaste for exhibition.”

  “No,” I answered.

  His patience astounded me. I glanced down at my hands, and then faced him, chin up. “I am having some trouble controlling the magic.”

  He stood and crossed to me. I saw the slightest hint of worry in his gaze. “The bindings?”

  “No, no.” I assured him. “Not my magic. His.”

  “Should we try to undo the casting?”

  “No.” It might have been overemphatic, but I hated spells. There was no way to be sure of Asher’s methods and so much could go wrong.

  “Then there is nothing left but to practise.”

  I bit my cheek to keep from commenting.

  Silence hung between us for a moment and then in a soft voice, he asked, “Are you well, Freya?”

  My heart clenched. I could only nod.

  “I know this is far from over,” he said, “but I feel you are safer now than in the village.”

  I knew it wasn’t his fault, knew what had happened was beyond all of our control. And I could see his guilt, just as I felt my own, but none of us were entirely blameless either.

  It must have been hard for everyone, but I had been bound, unaware during so much of it. I shook off a chill. I’d been imprisoned in the village by an unwilling council.

  “It was a long time.” I let it sit there, not exactly an accusation, but close enough.

  “Yes, it was,” Chevelle answered, and it tasted of regret.

  But there was nothing to do now but move on.

  “A banquet, then,” I supplied.

  He nodded. “I will arrange it.”

  “And practice.” I grimaced, for old times’ sake.

  He smiled genuinely then, and I ached at the contrast with the pain he’d worn only moments ago. He started to reach for me and then caught himself, and the gesture made me want his touch so badly that I wondered if I had been truly bound to him.

  That was the only thing that kept me from closing the distance between us.

  “You should rest,” he said. “I will meet you for practice in the morning. Our usual time?”

  I laughed. It hadn’t been usual for a long time. And there hadn’t been much practice involved.

  He moved a breath closer and whispered, “Sleep well, Freya,” before walking past me out the door.

  I had to pinch myself to keep from following him.

  I loosed the straps on my armor and shrugged it off, tossing it on the table by the door. That was when I saw the box.

  It sat centered on the table, alone. I wasn’t sure how long I watched it before I moved, but when I finally reached for it, my hands shook. I had to sit down. I laid the box on the bed and curled my legs up in front of it, afraid to open it.

  Asher had taken everything from me. My mother, my freedom, my safety. But, given the enormity of those things, it was often the small treasures that I thought of most. They were naught but tiny remembrances that had given me comfort. In his attempt to control me, he had t
aken even those.

  Those last bloody days were the tipping point for my mother, I was certain. Had I known the outcome, I might have let the tokens go, might have yielded to Asher. They meant little compared to her life. But I had fought him harder then, as if that infraction was the worst of it, when he had done so much more. I had not the temperament of the others. The elves were stoic, but when pushed too far chanced being overcome, grief-stricken or crazed and unable to return to themselves. I had to fight to hide my emotion, but it could come and go as the winds, leaving me no worse for the storm.

  There was no wind now as I opened the carved stone lid. On top was a letter, a small note folded in half. I laid it aside and pulled a strip of silk from the box. My fingers ran across the soft fabric, a piece of my mother’s favorite dress. When Asher had confined her, these scraps had accompanied her messages, so I would know them truly hers. I held it to my nose, breathed in the scent of her. She was rain and honeysuckle, a cool winter night. Her scent was a contradiction, as was she. She was of light and dark. And I of both and my father. I had often wondered what that made me. When we were young, I had asked Chevelle what I smelled like. Without hesitation, he’d answered, “Wet elk.”

  With a smile, I returned the scrap to the box and touched the smooth stones, gold ring, and leather strap that lay inside. The amulet was there. I wondered if Chevelle had known its origin. The inky blue had reminded me so much of its owner, Sapphire.

  We both blamed Asher for her death. Though I shared that blame with myself. I had been a fool to think we could escape him. After all he had done, I had known there was no true escape. Somewhere, deep down, I had to have understood what I was risking, there was no doubt that such blatant defiance would have to be answered. And I had not cared about the cost. Until we found her.

  I could still see her lifeless body cradled in Chevelle’s arms. I could feel the anger, taste the bile, recall the first flavor of infinite hatred. Nothing else could have driven me to seek such a final revenge. She had been an innocent. They had cleaved her eyes from their sockets because I intended to walk away from all of it, to leave with him. They had dressed her in a royal gown of azure, adorned her with jewels.