Veil rose to his feet, not waiting to be called. He inclined his head toward me briefly, and I was unsure if the gesture meant he was confident in his speedy return to my side, or that it was pleasant to have known me. I stared at his back, long wings draping behind a lean, muscled form. He walked into the arena every bit the fey idol they took him for. It silenced the crowd.
Pitt entered the space opposite him, and I was all too aware of the silent forms he’d passed to get there. They were his—Pitt the keeper, stonemaker, the changeling fey who never lost.
He would have to lose today. If he didn’t lose…
Veil’s wings spread wide as he raised his hands skyward, but Pitt only watched, a menacing leer spreading across the changeling’s face. Veil tensed, but his back was to me. I could not see his face, did not understand what was happening.
A sudden coldness took over the arena, spreading like frost over glass. The high fey watching became momentarily confused, and then agitated, their fury growing with each passing breath. Virtue and Flora were close behind Veil, though I’d not seen them shift to that position. Pitt’s hands were spread wide, palms up and open to the sky. And Veil wasn’t moving.
No, I thought, but maybe I’d screamed it, because Chevelle was looking at me, watching as I ran toward the arena, over blood-slicked stone and scattered ash. He was moving too, and Liana, and a half-dozen other fey. The atmosphere lit with the changeling’s magic, and any remaining confusion among the audience cleared.
Pitt had turned Veil’s heliotropes against him.
They were preventing him from joining the fight.
Veil would be killed.
32
Frey
I rushed to Veil, his figure a dark shadow in the glare of his opponent’s blasting energy. I could see that he was fighting, using everything he had to keep the heliotropes’ suggestions at bay, but he’d let them get too close to him. They knew him too well.
He’d trusted a dangerous element.
I slammed into Veil, bracing him as best I could. My magic reached for Chevelle, but he was in the arena now, bearing Veil the same as I. Flora and Virtue were airborne; we could not reach them with sword—had I even had possession of one—so I anchored my power through Chevelle and hit them full-force. They reeled, Flora bobbling mid-air, and Virtue curling in on herself before shooting toward us at speed. Liana leapt in front of her, knocking the warrior aside, and three other fey piled on, clawing and stabbing and screeching as they went.
The heliotropes’ control must have slipped, because Veil’s body went rigid, the heat of it singeing my entire side as he became possessed of himself once more. Several fey took flight beside us, tackling Flora in similar fashion to the other, and Chevelle threw himself over me, just as the collision of Veil’s and Pitt’s energies detonated overhead. I was sure Veil had been staggered, but could only hope he’d not been badly hurt. That he could win this fight.
Despite Chevelle’s cover, the energy was searing, and I moved with him, rolling away from the contest and into the middle of a fey clash. Keane was no longer a threat to me, but Veil had been betrayed, no doubt due at least in some part to his connection to me, and it was impossible to know who else might have been involved. Rider had crossed the court floor, and was using an apparently spelled blade to cut the ropes binding Ruby free. Fights had broken out throughout the arena, the entire clearing a mass of disorder and madness.
The rogues and soldiers moved forward, circling our Seven and cutting down fey who attempted to break their line. Several high fey took flight, only to be knocked to the ground by the brutal energy radiating from above. The central battle was so intense I could not stand to look at it, could only will Veil to come out standing. In the meantime, Chevelle and I got our footing, racing toward Anvil and the others. We’d nearly reached the soldiers’ line when the explosion rocked the earth, knocking us from our feet.
My ears rang with a vengeance, every breath a stabbing pain. Men moved around me, but I was hardly aware of who or why. I reached for my knife, any weapon, but there was nothing there. Slick black leather met my palm, the costume designed by Veil’s fallen fey. The present came rushing back to me, Chevelle’s hand wrapping around my biceps to jerk me to my feet. We were standing, encircled by broken groups of rogues and soldiers from Camber, an injured Rhys and several unknown fey. We each searched the other, our surroundings, and then farther out, to the busted shards of stone that had once been high fey.
“The key stones,” someone uttered, their words seeming muffled by the damage done in the recent blast. A figure beside me stepped forward, a thin, blue fey with periwinkle blooms tucked throughout her braids. She stared into the circle, plainly disbelieving what had just been done.
I moved to see past her, seeking out Veil, knowing it had to be him. He had to be the one who survived. But neither man stood.
Bodies lay strewn through the arena, rubble and ash coating their skin. Liana rose from across the ring, her form shifting and reshaping until it found itself clean and whole. Two other fey stood near her, stumbling and shaking the dust from their hair. And then another, a winged shape that shifted and rose in the ruined stone.
Gasps echoed from the masses, the fey’s wings spreading beneath the light of a full moon. It was never a good color for the man, the blue tint lending him a sickly hue.
“Veil,” I breathed. Relief and dread and utter shock warred at my insides. He shook his wings, pale dust floating through the dead air. And then a wind blew, mild and sweet and tasting of summer sun.
The crowd began to shift then, slow and steady, returning with him to life. A gentle rain started and stopped, not scented with poison or the bitter tang of ill intent. I glanced at Chevelle, unsure of our next move. If we were to run for it, this would be the time.
He looked toward Liana beneath a lowered brow, back at me. I flicked a glance sideways, indicating Ruby and Grey, but froze there, feeling something that fixed me to my place. My mouth came open a fraction, words not falling free. It was impossible, but I was certain: the distant thunder of minds closing in all around. And then, there, the brush of something familiar, someone I knew.
“Junnie,” I told him. “She’s here.”
Chevelle had just enough time to mask his concern before the trees seeped with darkness. Black fur, to be precise, though I doubted anyone here had realized at first. The fey came automatically inward, away from the threat of the unknown. And then understanding dawned, and they were moving faster, finding safety out of reach of the pack.
Dark-furred wolves spilled through the trees, the moonlight catching the shift of their haunches, the glint of possessed eyes. Lighter wolves would follow, silver and white, small and large. They took over the clearing, standing at points that no mere animal would know. This was the work of an experienced leader, someone who had them firmly under control. It was reminiscent of ordered troops.
Nervous murmurings spread through the court. The fey had never liked dogs. This was an invasion, an infiltration of the worst possible kind.
One of the beasts let loose a growl.
Veil stepped beside me, brushing the dust from his sleeve. “What’s this, Lord Freya?”
I shrugged. “Reinforcements.”
He looked down at me with a disapproving frown.
I looked up, at Junnie.
And smiled.
33
Frey
Junnie had not come alone. The wolves had been her introduction, and a fine one at that, but she followed the performance with one that shocked even me. Steed had come along, a few dozen castle sentries in tow, including the healer, Thea, and close to fifty of Junnie’s new Council guard. Scouts and archers, runners and warriors. There were more of them in the forest, I suspected, but this many she chose to show.
She strode toward the court floor, wolves and fey making way as if she were a high lord. But she was, I supposed, of a sort. She wasn’t simply my Junnie anymore. She was the sole head of Council, poised to
take over the entire territory of light elves. I straightened, unsure what, exactly, she was about. If she meant to rescue us, we should probably have been getting on our way.
“Freya,” she gushed, reaching me and grabbing my hand to squeeze in hers. Her greeting was warm and genuine, and so out of place among this high fey battlefield, I simply stared at her in return. She ignored every other being around us—watching us—and smiled. “I am glad to have found you well.”
I nodded. Cleared my throat.
“I hope we aren’t too late,” Steed added beside her. He wore a loose shirt, no sign of armor or mail, his sword strapped at an odd angle over his back. Alive.
“I believe we were just finishing up here,” I told them. “How good of you to come.”
Steed grinned, lopsided and entirely at ease. “I suppose you’ll be wanting this then.” He slid a small wrapped package from a pouch beneath his shirt.
It was warm, not merely from his body heat, and I looked up at him, no idea what it was for.
“Ruby,” he whispered.
Oh. Yes.
I laughed, abrupt and unrestrained, startling myself and those around me. “Yes,” I told him. “This is exactly what I need.” I clapped Steed on the shoulder, making him wince but not move away. “Thank you,” I said. “Thank you both.”
I leaned in, adding softly, “Fetch your sister, please.”
I kept hold of Junnie’s hand, turning to Veil where he waited at my side. It was a comfort, but it couldn’t hurt to present a unified front on our side. “I will stand by my word. The humans will be kept at bay. It will require a nearly full-time residence here, I’m afraid. I will escort my people back to the border, and when they are safely across, I shall return to begin that work.”
Veil inclined his head. “We are indebted to your kindness.”
“Yes,” I told him. “And also to me. The challenge completed on my behalf was sabotaged, a willful disregard for your high court laws.” Veil’s brows rose, clearly dubious about my claims. He had, after all, been the one sabotaged. “One of my Seven was killed.”
“Oh, he’s not dead,” Ruby chimed in.
We all turned to her.
She threw a thumb over her shoulder. “Just poisoned. He’ll be fine with powdered hickory root and some meadowsweet.”
Steed nodded. “Likely have a bear of a headache, though.”
Veil said, “You have a remedy for the toxin?”
“Of course not, it doesn’t exist.” She shrugged. “I had to poison him for years, build up a tolerance.”
Veil stared. Ruby grinned, gestured toward the parcel in my hands. “I don’t suppose that’s much help now.”
“Actually,” I answered, “I’d like to offer it in trade, if you don’t mind.” I flicked a gaze in my intended target’s direction and she smiled.
“Brilliant.”
“Fine, all is settled. Let’s get moving before anything else can go wrong.”
Junnie squeezed my hand. “One more thing… or two.”
She pulled her hand free, stepping back to afford me a better view. At her command, two columns of Council fighters moved forward, splitting their formation to reveal a small human child. No, my mind challenged, not human. This was Isa.
She was small and thin, but I was no less shocked at her size. She was growing fast—more the speed of fey than elf. It was not natural, but what about the girl was? She approached us, staring up at me with big, dark eyes. Defiant.
I laughed. “Isa.”
She inclined her head politely, a mess of black hair spilling over her eyes. She pushed it back with a petite hand. “I would like to go in your stead, to manage the humans.”
I stared at Junnie, shocked at the girl’s appeal, but all too aware of her careful choice of words. She’d volunteered, certainly, but not as favor to me. It was almost as if she meant to lead them.
Junnie’s expression was grave, but she said, “She has my blessing in this endeavor. It would mean calamity for you to step away from your throne, so quickly after being restored. I know that she seems only a child, but I do not fear for Isa. She has more control over the beings than any of us has yet.”
The beings. “You have exposed her to humans?”
Junnie’s eyes narrowed on the watching fey. “The changelings have brought several into our lands. I wasn’t certain what their intention was before, I’d assumed it was some sort of game. It’s clear to me now they indeed pose a threat. The draw does not merely affect base magic.”
Her words sank in, my exhaustion and addled mind making me take longer than I should have to catch up. “The boundary.”
Junnie nodded. The changelings had been sneaking humans out of their forests, bringing them to our lands to destroy protections laid in place by the ancients. But if they could be carried across fey lands, the draw could not be permanent. Magic could be restored, once the humans were removed from the scenario. Veil had said they were spreading, described them like a pestilence. So he must know once they’d taken an area over fully, like the outer forests, his base magic could not be recovered.
Junnie appeared to have picked up at least bits of my train of thought, for I was confident hers had gone there too. The boundaries could not be left imperfect. They would have to be restored. “Finn and Keaton can assist us on our return.”
“Yes,” I said shakily, unease at every new turn. “I think it’s time we move now.” I glanced at the girl, her focus solely on me, waiting for confirmation as if there was no other choice. “I will allow it,” I told her, careful of my own words as well. I trusted Junnie’s assumption, but I would not forget my mother, the massacre, or what control of that many humans might bring.
Junnie snapped a command at the waiting soldiers, and three more divisions came out of the trees. She eyed the watching fey, daring them to touch her. They would try Isa, I knew. The fey could not be held from a challenge. But she’d have Junnie’s men, and unknown legions of humans, where the base energy could not be kept.
I addressed the watching crowd, letting their high lord beside me hear the threat. “The ancient truce has been broken by both sides. Let this be your warning: We are no longer under treaty. This will be a new arrangement, where you are caged, held in at all sides. The humans will live. The child—Isa—will be in command of them.”
Veil hissed, “We had a bargain—”
My look cut him off cold. “You did not specify a time frame. The humans will be held at bay. The fey will be free when they prove they can conduct themselves well.”
Veil’s eyes went dark, his wings too still. Chevelle’s hand slid to his sword hilt.
“We will not be caged.” The fey lord’s voice was ice, the heat rolling off of him, not so much.
“You already are.”
I turned, knowing my Second had my back, and the elven high lord and her guard limped inelegantly off the field.
34
Frey
I stood before the balcony overlooking the mountains of the North. My home. This stone ledge was not my preferred perch; the fey had stolen that—I’d nearly been knocked from the rooftop during their previous attack. The haze was thicker here, the view impaired by dark stone walls, but it would do. The cold wind did not cut my eyes or tug at my cloak. It was calm here. Secure.
We had made it home by the dawn of the second day. Junnie and the others had escorted us the entire route, ensuring we’d settled in without harm before making their own way home. Grey had been strapped over a horse, Ruby promising each of us he’d be fine. Still, she had watched him carefully, her eyes flicking relentlessly from the path to his form. When he was finally taken from the horse, her hands had floated gingerly above his damaged skin, afraid to touch him, but clearly yearning to do so. She’d gone into action then, snapping commands and ordering him and the herbs brought to her rooms. No one had seen her since.
The wolves had remained at the border, ensuring the repaired protections would stay in place. There was a connection
between Finn and Keaton that I could never reach, but it appeared Junnie did not have the same problem. That was something I would give concern to later though, because there was not energy to focus on it now.
What was important was that we were out of fey lands safely, that, at least on our lands, they were once again at our mercy, even if it was by a tenuous command.
Rumor and revelations spread quicker than our party, and much of it waited for our arrival home. Pitt’s body had not been found, they’d said. Speculation that he’d lived, escaped during the chaos, ran amok. I’d seen the wreckage. I could not imagine anyone had slipped away. But this was the fey, and they did love a good legend.
I stood on this balcony, unpinning the silver twine braided through the mess of my hair, and fell silently into the mind of my hawk. We watched from the sky as Chevelle tended to the needs of the castle, drifting above as Steed cared for the horses, as Thea mended Rhys and Rider, as Anvil oversaw repairs. The fey had wreaked havoc on the structure and the general order of things, as usual. They would not be back any time soon.
We’d left Isa to constrict the human encroachment, and by the time we’d parted ways with the girl, I could see where Junnie’s confidence came from. The fey had eyed the child with warier gazes than they’d given even the wolves. She might as well been a living keystone. I hoped it worked out.
I hoped I didn’t have to return to do it myself.
“Lord Freya,” Liana said from behind me.
I turned from my spot on the balcony, seeing the changeling fey in a blue silk gown. “You should really stop stealing from us.”
She nodded. “I come to bid you farewell. For now.” She patted the satchel at her side, Ruby’s mother’s diary inside. I’d been concerned by the trade, unsure if Liana was a harmless enough recipient, but Ruby had only shrugged. “I’d already edited out the important stuff,” Ruby had said. “Ages ago, using my mother’s power signature.”
The Frey Saga Book IV Page 16