I had to fight a smile at her use of “us.”
Rider held up a finger. “I believe it is a mistake to consider them children. I understand Asher may have been fostering this strategy before even Francine or Eliza were born. Simply because the one who created silver was a boy does not mean we should expect the same of the others.”
Rhys nodded. “If I were the influencer of these ‘heirs,’ I would send the weakest first.”
Ruby’s eyes went wide. Apparently, she’d underestimated the cunning of the Strong brothers.
“You are right, though.” Rider twirled a quill in his hand as he thought. “We do need to find the source.”
“I feel like we’re beating our heads against the same rock,” I complained.
“At least we know it isn’t the fey,” Ruby said with mock cheer.
No, I thought, they wanted to either keep us balanced or own us all. With a sigh, I returned to the passage I’d been reading on rare fey talents.
The fey liked to keep records of other people, but preferred no written history of themselves. I had always assumed that was why so many fey tales were spoken. And surely they considered it a bonus, the embellishments that came along with stories passed by word of mouth. But I supposed it was safer that way as well. How much had Ruby learned from her mother’s diary...
As I scanned the pages, I recalled the fey visits when I’d been bound in the village. They’d caused no ruckus among the light elves, but they’d only been allowed to come as one, occasionally a pair, to study the libraries. And, if I really thought about it, I had no idea whether they’d caused trouble in the village. For all I knew, they’d been the ones messing with the council documents, not Fannie. Fannie, who had burned that village to the ground.
I didn’t dream much of Fannie since regaining myself. The nightmares I had now were those of my mother. But now the flames were real, memory instead of vision, and they were so much more disturbing with added details like the taste of smoke and scent of blood. Every night, the screams of the slaughter tore through me, the sound of my mother’s crazed laughter as they burned her, the pain ripping my own chest as I stood helpless, as I was dragged away. The icy water pulling me under, stealing my breath.
Ruby had been reading through one of the books from Asher’s private study and I noticed her go still as she flipped a page. I absently glanced up at her.
“Frey,” she started, but then didn’t continue when she saw my face. She wordlessly slid the open book to me.
On the yellowed pages lay a tiny scrap of paper with three words. A ribbon of blue silk was attached to the corner. I stared silently at it for a long moment before sliding the silk between my fingers. Nothing on the pages of the book was relevant to the message. Someone must have intercepted the note and simply tucked it away as if it hadn’t mattered.
“What does it mean?” Ruby whispered.
I glanced at the table, covered in documents and ancient tomes. “Nothing...” I shook my head, coming out of the stupor. “Nothing, Ruby, let’s take a break.” The light through the windows said it was late afternoon. “We’ve missed lunch, I’m sure we could all do with something to eat.”
I spared one last look at the note before sliding it into my pocket. Fellon Strago Dreg. It was like the words were following me. Warning me.
By evening, I’d done all I could to prepare for our departure. Anvil had returned, but wasn’t able to find anything useful in regard to either the fey plans or the attacks. When I’d told him about Veil’s visit, he’d been so angry the hair on my head tingled with electricity before he left me to “go over some final details with the patrols.” The sky had lit two shades lighter not long after that.
Steed and Grey had also returned, convinced that no one from here to Camber had seen anything out of the ordinary. We went over the final details for the morning and when Steed and Ruby got into a heated argument about some traps she’d left set in her Camber house, Grey took the opportunity to discuss our purpose.
“They are all still mourning,” he said. “The shock of your return, the stir over your recent actions, those have only been a distraction.” He absently ran a hand over his jaw. “They need this as desperately as you. We have all lost so much.”
I glanced at Steed, whose own mother had been killed in the massacre. It had driven his father so mad, he’d fallen under the thrall of a fire fairy.
Grey sighed. “You are doing right, Frey. And when it’s done, they will follow you.”
I bit my cheek to stop myself from pointing out it would do no good if one of Asher’s progeny found me.
“Thank you, Grey.” I squeezed his arm, grateful for his words, and knew Chevelle had not chosen him merely for his connection with Ruby.
“Have it your way, then,” Steed seethed as he strode from the room with less than his usual cool.
“I will,” Ruby yelled at his back.
When she realized Grey and I were staring at her, she threw her hands up in disgust. “I don’t know what’s with him lately.” She shook her head as she glanced back at the empty doorway. “He’s so jumpy, always looking over his shoulder, you’d swear someone was stalking him or something.”
A choked cough escaped me, but neither seemed to know why. I simply kept watching Ruby.
Grey tilted his head. “You did leave traps for him, Ruby.”
She let out a disgusted sound. “Not for him.” Her hands came up to her hips. “Besides, he should have known I would have set them.”
Grey shrugged. “Well, he found them regardless.”
The corner of her mouth raised in a snarl and I was suddenly laughing. Grey turned to stare at me and I shook my head. “I think I need some sleep.”
I excused myself and walked the corridor at an easy pace while I considered the coming event. We had given council time to regroup, it would be a fair fight. I had confidence in my guard, but I couldn’t bear the idea of losing any of them. I could leave, spend my years running with the wolves... but no, I couldn’t even finish that thought. I wouldn’t leave. Not my guard, and not the north. Grey was right, they needed this as much as I. I would never really rest until I’d quenched the flames of my nightmares.
I hadn’t been back to my perch since the fey had nearly knocked me from the roof, so I found myself standing in the throne room, staring across the empty space. It had been an ugly childhood, Chevelle the only bright spot. Asher had done all that he could to take that from me, to force me into something I’d never wanted, to secure my place as his second. And here I stood, alone on the throne and separated from Chevelle. Even in death, he’d succeeded.
I took a deep breath as I sat, fingers curling into the ornate carvings on the arms of the chair. My eyes fell closed and I found my hawk to take flight, gliding over the mountain one last time before morning. Darkness had begun to fall and torches lit the grounds like fireflies in a southern meadow. Nightfall brought the revelers out in the towns and rogue camps, but here the sentries were still on duty.
The circles became smaller as I scanned the castle then finally dropped through a window and down the east wing. I opened my eyes as we came to the corridor outside the throne room and watched the hawk fly in under its own authority to land on the stand beside me.
I smiled at the sizeable bird and it cocked its head with a quick twist.
“Someday, I will name you,” I said, gently stroking the feathers along the back of its neck. It shuffled closer, talons claiming the soft wood of the perch. We sat so for a long while, time uncounted as we relaxed together, I as unthinking as the bird.
Finally, it stretched its wings and then brought them back together, shaking a bit as it settled into a solid form, neck disappearing into the mass of feathers, eyes winking shut. “I agree,” I murmured, knowing I needed sleep even though the time here had been more restful than any night of the past weeks. I stepped down from the chair, aware once again that it was a throne, and headed to my room.
I walked in the door, tossed
my scabbard and sword on a side table, and kicked off my boots. When I rose back to standing, I found Chevelle across from me against the far wall. For a fraction of a second, my heart quit. When it started back up again, I knew I was flushed.
Embarrassment at being caught off guard and frightened made me irritated. “What are you doing?”
His face didn’t change, though I knew what he was thinking. Not a day ago, I’d been confronted with a fey idol here. “I will be placing protections on the room.”
The anger was genuine now. “What?”
Chevelle remained as he was, but I could see now his posture was set for a fight, he’d known what my reaction would be. “It is the only way–”
My glare cut him off. He waited.
“You will not cast on or near me.”
“I will protect your room,” he answered levelly.
“Then put a guard outside.”
He watched me work that one out.
“I won’t risk it,” I said.
He stepped forward. “Neither will I.”
My mouth went dry.
Chevelle moved again. “A guard outside does no good. He’s proven that.”
“No spells,” I repeated.
“You’ll not sleep unprotected,” he answered, no intention of giving up the idea.
“Then I’ll not sleep alone,” I shot back.
I had answered without thinking, but once the words were out, they hung between us, taking on a new meaning. And the longer it hovered there, the stronger it became. He stared at me, gaze unflinching, as I stood motionless, afraid to even breathe.
I knew we shouldn’t. There was good reason not to. I was sure of it, even if I’d forgotten exactly what that reason was. A flash of memory, the taste of him, his bare skin beneath my hands, the unbearable feeling of being so near him and still wanting him closer. I forced myself to stop but the hunger in his eyes intensified, as if he knew what I was thinking. He was beginning to look as if he might lose control. I swallowed hard, trying to find a way out, certain I needed to.
It wasn’t clear to me, what caused him to break, but he was suddenly moving, and the room seemed to shudder with magic. Power slammed into me the instant before he reached me and I almost managed a word. But when he finally touched me, when his hands came around me, his lips crushed mine, even the notion of speaking was gone.
Chapter Eighteen
First Light
Hours later, I couldn’t say I regretted it. My head lay on his chest as his hand slid slowly up the skin of my arm and across my shoulder. He gently drew my hair away to bare my neck, and then his fingers retraced the line.
“Do you feel any different?” I asked.
His chest rumbled beneath my cheek with a sort of chuckle and I turned to examine his face. He stared at me for a long moment, finally understanding. “You don’t know, do you?”
“What?”
Eyes never leaving mine, he let out a slow breath. “We have always been bound, Freya.”
I stared at him, unable to process his words.
The corner of his mouth turned up in a gentle, sympathetic smile. The kind you give a small child when they can’t possibly understand something larger than their world. But it wasn’t offensive. It was beautiful, filled with affection.
“The bond,” he explained, “somehow we created it without intent, very long ago.”
I was pretty sure my expression fell somewhere between shock and confusion, but I couldn’t bother trying to appear otherwise.
His fingers continued to trail the line of my back. “I think it is usually created while coupling,” his face was taken over by a slow, sexy smile then, remembering, and he tilted his head up to place a kiss on my forehead before continuing, “because that is when two are the closest. Their magic, their bodies, their... love.” Here I was kissed again, more passionately, and I had to focus hard on what he was saying.
I sat up, which did nothing to discourage him.
“But that can’t be right,” I said numbly, searching for an argument.
His gaze drifted up to meet mine, the hand that had been tracing lazy circles on my skin stilled.
“The elders,” I explained, “they all said it would change us, keep us from being true to anything but ourselves. Bring our union above all others.”
He raised my hand for a kiss. “Do you mean abandoning the throne to run away with me?” he asked calmly, as if he were inquiring whether I’d like a glass of wine. He leaned forward and kissed my forearm. “Or waiting for you when you were trapped... searching for a way to release you... risking all for your return?” His lips trailed farther up my arm, pausing only as he glanced at me once more. “Keeping me close to you, all the while knowing it could cost you your life.”
We were already bound.
For as long as I could remember, I had always wanted him.
He was tied to me.
We were bound.
The idea was overwhelming, but suddenly I couldn’t spare it another thought, because his lips had reached my own and I was, once again, lost to the outside world.
Time was non-existent until the shuffle of boots in the corridor pulled me from my contented trance. I sat up suddenly, recalling our plan.
“What time is it?” I asked frantically.
Chevelle dragged me back against him, tilting his head to place slow kisses on my neck.
It almost worked.
A noise farther down the corridor reminded me that we were late. I pressed back, far enough to kiss him thoroughly, and then free of the bed. His face fell. I smiled.
I was dressed well before he was, securing my scabbard as he laced his shirt. He was in no hurry, but I knew he wouldn’t ask me to postpone again. Not after our argument, and not after last night. We would see vengeance. This, at least, would be done.
He sat to fasten his boots and I watched him as I thought again of his promise. We have always been bound. My mind had been fighting for some way to dispute the idea, but could only come up with evidence to corroborate it.
Something had always called me to Chevelle. I knew, but I’d simply never understood. How could I? How could anyone?
He raised his head and suddenly I was staring into depthless sapphire. My stomach tightened and I hurriedly turned to open the door. A hand on my shoulder stopped me, and he pulled my hair to the side to place a soft kiss on my neck. Wordlessly, we walked from the room, Chevelle settling his leather breastplate as we went.
We found the others in the study, light spilling through the windows making it obvious it wasn’t exactly dawn. Close enough, I thought, glancing around to be certain everyone was accounted for.
“Steed is readying the horses,” Ruby supplied.
I nodded. How she, or any of the others for that matter, had managed not to comment or at least betray some emotion about Chevelle and I, was beyond me.
“We are set to go,” Anvil agreed.
I supposed that was how they’d managed, knowing what we were about to set out to do. “Then let us go,” I said. “For the North.”
A harmony of agreement met my oath and we made our way to the yard as one, a small army by all outward appearances. Ruby’s curls were smoothed back, a braid from each temple meeting at the base of her neck to form a knot. She had forgone the silver; she and each of the guard donned black uniforms, insignias marking the shoulder clasps of their dark cloaks. Only the shine of Rhys and Rider’s hair stood out among us.
As we walked from the castle, my eyes met Steed’s where he waited with the horses. I’d barely had time to process his expression before we heard the sentry call out.
All eyes fell on Edan as he sprinted across the yard. When he had our attention, he yelled a warning. “The fey are attacking Camber, as many as seventy, no structure,” he paused to take a breath as he reached us, “just rioting.”
We stood in shocked silence for one moment before the lot of us swung into motion. Chevelle clapped the sentry on the shoulder before he mounted and
without another word, eight horses were running through the gates. Steed took the lead, setting a fierce pace and keeping to the path.
I couldn’t believe I’d neglected to sweep the skies this morning, knowing that the fey were aware of our plans. I fell in behind Grey and dropped quickly to the horse’s mind, urging him to keep pace before finding the hawk. It was perched on a castle wall, tearing meat from a rodent beneath its claw, and I had to force it to flight.
I had intended to make a broad sweep of Camber, but when it took wing, everything fell apart. I froze at what I’d seen, and then heard the clatter of rocks the instant before I opened my own eyes to find Chevelle and Rider had been forced from the path, nearly tumbling into my horse when we went from full run to abrupt stop without warning.
I swallowed hard, unsure what to do as they stared at me, waiting.
We shouldn’t split up, it could be another trick. The elves at Camber could handle the fey, would likely have it done before we arrived. But it wasn’t right to leave them to it, either. I cursed myself for not having more animals at the castle. It would be all I needed to resolve the issue in a matter of minutes. The cats had ended badly and I’d not wanted a repeat.
“Frey,” Chevelle called and I grimaced, knowing I could wait no longer.
“Council trackers are stealing up the mountain. They are almost to the castle.” I glanced at the others, who had backtracked when they’d heard the commotion of the sudden stop. “Anvil, Chevelle, with me. The rest of you go on, we will join you as soon as the castle is secure.”
No one looked happy with the idea, but they nodded their assent.
“Rhys,” I added, surprised at the intensity of my own voice, “save one for me.”
They turned back to the path, resuming the run with a new drive. I dropped from my horse and ran, knowing Chevelle and Anvil would follow. They were faster, but I knew the secret paths and tunnels. We hadn’t ridden far before I’d found the intruders, but hopefully any spotters they had thought we were well gone.
Rise of the Seven Page 11
