The brothers might have been from the ice lands, but they’d been studying fey since our first attack. They understood the method by which a fey body went, the way their energy returned to the earth, leaving nothing but husk or shell. What was before us was clearly not that.
“We’ve no idea if there is potential for the deadening to be spread from this,” Chevelle said. The fey energy had been sapped from the being, and no one truly understood why.
Rhys took a step forward. “If this is where the deadening is headed, it will not matter. It will not be stopped by the spelled boundary.”
Chevelle nodded then took a step away from the table as he crossed his wrists behind his back.
“May we?” Rider asked of the covering.
Chevelle gave me a glance, obviously wanting me away from the potential hazard despite his earlier words.
“Yes,” I said.
Rider drew a blade from his belt, his capable hands guiding the tip of it over the form to slice only through the net of twine and top layer of pasted leaves and herbs. The scent of rosemary and lavender swelled through the room, followed by something more earthy and dark. Rhys pulled a pair of leather gloves from his belt then drew them over his slender hands. He gave a long look to his brother, and Rider slid the blade deeper through the layers. The smell of catmint and wormwood swam past, then marjoram and something so spicy it stung my nose. Soon, there was the rancid stench of decay, but only that of leaves and moss, not flesh. Not the body.
I blinked away the dampness welling at my eyes from the fumes, but Chevelle reached into a pouch at his waist then tossed dark ash toward the discarded leaves. It helped, but I did not step nearer. Rhys pulled back the last layer of flora, and the thin, gray corpse came into view.
She was fey, undoubtedly, and not one of the changelings who had been crossing over to play games on the land the humans occupied. She was a forest nymph, her hair still tipped with green, her clawed fingers meshed together with translucent webbing where they lay crossed over her sternum. Isa’s sentries had left the broken twigs in her matted hair and the dried leaves plastered to her shoulder.
I leaned forward to study her face as Rhys and Rider moved slowly down the table. Her lips were pale and cracked, her lashes dark against her cheek. There were light scratches near her jaw, but the skin of her neck was clean. Her chest was sunken, her thin collarbones jutting out beneath the silks of her robes.
Someone had apparently stolen her gems. She did not appear to be wearing a single stone. I glanced at Chevelle, whose jaw was tight. “How long had she been lying there before Isa’s men found her?” I asked.
His eyes met mine. “It can’t have been long, if she’s still in this condition.”
“Then someone stole from her as the life drained from her body.”
Rider stopped in his task to glance at me.
My look held him there. “When you’re done with your study, see that she is returned to Veil.” I turned from them, unable to stomach one more moment. The cold metal of the door handle met my palm, and I thought again how foolish I was.
The fey were not like us. They did not play by our rules. They would do things that might have made even someone like my grandfather turn away. The fey were not the sort of enemy we needed.
Even worse, we’d found them as our allies against the deadening of the energy, and there was nothing to be done for it.
It had been sealed as a bargain between two lords.
The nymph was not the last fey body I would find in my hands.
9
Thea
Thea was startled from sleep, the knock of wood against stone jarring her to sitting. She shoved the hair from her face, wide-eyed and blinking. Barris stared down at her, his mouth in an even line.
“What’ve you gotten into this time?” She groaned. “Please don’t tell me it’s something bad.”
Barris crossed his arms. “It is never good, not when you’re involved.”
She snorted a laugh.
“Up,” he said. “Edan wants to see you on the rampart by dawn.”
She stared at him.
He nodded. “Aye. Better bring your sword.” He wore a new chest plate and cloak, and what appeared to be thin black chainmail ran over his shoulders.
“Are you—” She paused, uncertain what he could be doing. Not going to battle, surely. They’d made peace with the light elves, and no other army would have made it that far without word reaching the castle guard.
“I’ve a mission,” Barris answered. “It’s confidential.”
He said the last bit with a wink, but something was off in his tone. Something that Thea did not like lurked beneath the surface. She opened her mouth to tell him so, but movement at the doorway caught her eye.
She gaped.
Barris turned.
“Change of plans,” the figure at the door said, and any hope Thea had of being wrong about who was in their presence was shattered by the unmistakable sound of the elven lord’s voice.
Barris saluted, knocking his fist against his chest and dipping his head.
“Clear the barracks,” Freya told him.
Barris filed out behind the remaining few, who had hastily grabbed their things without a single word.
Thea swallowed. She was certain she should stand and salute, but a cold ball of dread had settled in her stomach. The Lord of the North and the Dark Elves’ Kingdom had just emptied her barracks to see Thea alone.
Something was wrong. Something bad.
The Lord of the North—Freya, Thea reminded herself—took a step forward. She seemed pale in the flickering torchlight, and Thea felt as if something dangerous swam beneath those strange green eyes.
“I need to know if I can trust the changeling,” Freya said. At Thea’s raised brow, she added, “Trust her to let Ruby heal without your daily supervision. Trust her to play no more games with our guard.”
No one could truly trust a changeling, not completely. The changeling Liana had saved Steed and the others after their clashes with the fey. Those had been pawns to her, whom she’d needed to play out her game.
Thea could not say that the woman needed Ruby, and apparently, neither could Freya, or she would not be asking. “I’ve seen nothing amiss,” Thea admitted. After a moment of contemplation, she said, “But I did not like the methods she used on Steed.” Her gaze shot to her lord. “They did work. I only—”
She didn’t have to finish. Freya nodded. She’d seen it too.
Thea bit her lip. “I could give Ruby something to wake her. But if it were too soon…” She shook her head. “I can’t imagine why the changeling would risk it beneath your nose. And Grey’s there. He’s been witness to her concoctions long enough to suspect when something is wrong.”
Frey gave another curt nod. “Done, then. Leave instructions for the tonic with Grey, should he find he needs to use it.”
Thea took a slow breath. “Have I—have I done something wrong?”
Frey’s chin tilted for a moment, then she shook her head. She glanced at the empty barracks before her gaze came back to Thea’s. “No, you’ve done well. I need you for something else.”
Thea nodded automatically, but the tightness in the pit of her stomach grew. Barris’s tone had been off. Frey’s tone was off, as was the way she looked at Thea. There was a darkness in Frey’s eyes. Thea swallowed hard. “What happened?”
Frey’s mouth fell into a tight line. She seemed to draw a steadying breath. “I’m going to ask too much of you, but I’m afraid there’s nothing for it.”
Thea shifted the blanket off her lap and stood to face her lord.
“I need a healer,” Frey said. And then the Lord of the North stepped forward to take hold of Thea’s hands. “I need you to bring them back alive.”
10
Thea
Thea met Steed and the others outside the stables as they prepared to mount and be on their way. They had packed light, as if it would be a short journey, and Thea felt suddenly
chagrined about the large sack she carried over her shoulder. Steed dropped the leather strap he’d been adjusting on his saddle, shooting Barris a look that Thea could not exactly decipher. Barris gave a furtive shake of his head, and Steed turned to face Thea.
She came to a stop in front of him.
He glanced at her pack, his dark gaze coming back to hers. “No.”
“She said you’d say that.” Thea thrust a folded slip of paper toward him. Thea had not opened the note, but she knew it was brief. The Lord of the North had only scribbled a few short words before handing it over.
Steed read it twice and pinched the bridge of his nose. After a moment, his fingers curled over the note, folding it tighter before he stuffed it into a pocket. He took a slow breath as he stared at her. He reached up to pluck the metal clasp that marked her as a member of the castle guard off her shoulder then tossed it toward a crate of supplies near the stable door. “This goes,” he ordered, gesturing toward the metal bracer at her wrist. “And this.” He jerked the metal buckle of her shoulder strap loose. His eyes skirted her face as he took in her hair, the tip of the bow peeking over her back. “Leave it,” he said of the bow.
She tossed her pack on the ground, settling the weapon beside it. Steed turned to one of the stable hands, gesturing with some signal Thea did not understand as he moved toward the stable doors. When he disappeared, the new recruit who’d been helping Ruby approached.
Willa was petite, nearly Ruby’s size, and lean but strong. Her arms were bare between a dark leather vest and long leather bracers. Her glossy black hair was cropped and spiky, and her dark eyes tipped up at the edges. Her mouth was set in a hard line. “Put that thing down if you’re not going to learn how to use it.”
Thea gripped the handle of her sword, taken aback by the girl’s words. Her tone had not been harsh, but it still felt like a command.
“You will only get tangled in it,” the girl snapped. “It will do you no good. The daggers are all you need.”
Thea towered over the girl, and yet, Thea felt somehow small. She glanced at Barris, who stood watching with a sick sort of look in his eyes, as if haunted by that something bad they’d all been hiding. Thea hadn’t understood before, but her doubt was gone. She knew the risk they were taking. She unlatched the scabbard from her side and placed the sword with her other weapons. She felt a bit bare with nothing but daggers, but she reminded herself that she wasn’t going along to fight. She was going along to stitch warriors back together.
Willa bent down to grab Thea’s pack, tossing it over her shoulder as Steed came from the stables with a large black mare. Willa met him to attach the pack, her posture that of a soldier, as it had been every single time Thea had seen her. Steed adjusted the saddle and checked the pack before glancing briefly at Thea. Her stomach dipped, more ill at ease than she’d ever been, but she forced her trembling hands to steady and took a deep breath. It would not be the worst she’d done, surely. She climbed onto the mare and pressed her heels against the beast’s sides, following Steed, Barris, Merek, and Willa in their columns.
It was still early, and as they rode through the castle grounds, no one paid them any mind. At the gate, Anvil waited with his own horse, exchanging a look with Steed before falling in line beside Thea. Anvil was a massive man, broad and tall and not easy to forget. Thea wondered at their removal of their guard identifiers, as if any of the Seven could possibly go unnoticed, in uniform or out. But then she looked closer at what they did wear and thought maybe she’d been mistaken about why they’d removed the gear. Even Barris, who’d been wearing mail only earlier that morning, was stripped down to dark leather and a woven shirt. When they’d faced the fey, they’d been covered in metal, wanting to ward off the magic that was within their foes, but they’d stripped all of it clean.
Because they would not be fighting against magic—they would be fighting to stay alive.
It was three days of hard riding before they saw the first sign of a dragon: the charred bones of large prey. Two days later, dark shadows swept the clouds. By the evening of the sixth day, Thea was more exhausted than she’d ever been, sore, missing a proper bath and bed, and a bit ill-tempered. The way had been clear enough for the most part, as Steed had guided them through well-used paths over level ground. They’d only stopped a few times to change horses, making quick trades that Steed must have sent word for ahead of their departure.
Unlike the wooded lands of the South or the thick fey forests, the grasslands they rode through were populated by wild game and the occasional band of rogues. Farther out, there would be imp settlements and the rocky lands of the orcs and ogres. Thea had never seen those lands herself, but she’d heard enough tales to know which were true. She had no interest in going that far.
She climbed down from her horse, too tired to notice where she’d stopped until her boots hit the sloppy give of mud. She groaned, staring down to find it splattered well up her pant leg. Barris chuckled, taking her horse and leading it with the others to a smattering of trees past where Merek and Anvil had started making camp. The sun was low in the sky, but it seemed to take longer to dip below the horizon. She could see far into the distance, even in the strange rosy light. Thea glanced over her shoulder at the others. They’d taken to a bit of a routine with their tasks. Each night, Anvil and Merek set up camp while Barris brought water to the horses and Willa scouted the area for tracks or bones. Steed would hunt and upon his return check the horses while Merek cooked whatever game he’d been able to find. Thea, it seemed, wasn’t meant for any of their official duties. She frowned at the lot of them, not for the first time, and wandered toward the lake, where some brush looked promising for berries that were either edible or medicinal.
She’d been warned not to wander off, not to cause any havoc to their carefully laid plans. She snorted, shifting the leaves to verify the sort of plant on which the berries grew. They were shadeberries, not edible. She plucked one off the bush to split it with her thumbnail, careful of thorns, but the fruit wasn’t even ripe enough to add to a soap. She missed a good-smelling soap.
Thea glanced at her pant legs, splattered with mud that was quickly drying in the warm air, and noted exactly how much was clumped on her boots. She shook her head, kicking a heel to loosen it before deciding to move farther into the grasses, toward the edge of the lake. The stone there was light and sandy, and she used it to scrape the larger chunks free before she dipped her heels in and wiped them clean. Chore accomplished, Thea knelt by the edge of the water to wash the berry pulp and mud from her hands. She heard the distant sound of Merek’s laughter and smiled. Merek had joined the guard when Thea had, so not only had she grown up with him in Camber, but she’d trained with him for a season. His family was of the best sort, kind and giving and always ready with a laugh. Barris seemed reserved in comparison, but they got along well.
Thea dug a bit of dirt from beneath her fingernail then leaned forward to wash the remnants clean. The setting sun threw color across the water’s still surface, but beneath it something dark slid from the depths, smooth and—
Thea screeched as she was jerked backward, falling onto her rear as Steed let go of her vest. He stepped in front of her, blade in hand as the dark mass rose slowly to the surface, cresting its slick black head to peer at them with one golden eye. Steed waited, motionless, and the thing blinked before rolling onto its side and sliding back into the depths, smooth skin and sharp claws quietly breaking the surface as it spun.
Thea panted, watching in horror, and after a moment, Steed turned to stare down at her. “Thea.”
She shook her head. “I know, I know. My only duty is to stay out of trouble.”
He slid his blade into its scabbard. “This isn’t home. Nothing here is governed by law. Beast and man alike live by the rule of the wild.”
“Eat or be eaten?” she muttered.
He held a hand out, and she took it, allowing him to pull her to her feet. She’d been shaken and was exhausted, but it was re
ally the first chance she’d had to be so close to Steed and practically alone. A small thrill ran through her at his nearness, but she resisted the urge to reach for him. Steed was on a mission, a mission he’d clearly not wanted her to be a part of.
She understood why. She cleared her throat. “So dinner, I guess.”
Steed’s gaze strayed from hers, trailing slowly to her mouth. He seemed drawn to her, and she felt the same subtle shift coming from him that had her leaning his way, but there was a sound from the camp, and his eyes flicked to the distance behind her. He reached forward, tugging gently on the hem of her shirt as he whispered, “Please stay close. And do try not to get eaten.”
Thea bit back a grin as he strode past her toward the camp. And then her gaze caught on the murky water, and she hurriedly turned to follow him in.
“They’re close,” Willa said as Steed approached the camp. Thea kept pace behind him, trying to decipher what sort of meat Anvil had spitted over the fire.
“Three or more,” the girl told Steed, “signs no more than a day old.”
Steed nodded. “We go at first light, in hopes they’re still asleep.”
Anvil made the sign of the elders, who used to make a quick, circular gesture to ward off talk of curses.
Thea smiled. She hadn’t thought of the elders in a long while. So many of them had been lost in the massacre, targeted, taken down. Her smile faded, and she shook off the thought as she made her way to the fire.
Willa intercepted her, gesturing toward Thea’s blades. “Let’s have a go with those,” she said.
Thea frowned.
The girl stared up at her, unflinching. “It’s time to learn. You’ve not trained once since leaving the castle.”
The Frey Saga Book VI Page 4