“Thank you,” I told Liana, though much of what she’d done had benefitted solely her. “I am glad it was you who survived.”
“It could have happened no other way,” she told me.
It wasn’t true. Keane had been stronger than Liana. But the dance worked like that sometimes. Sometimes the true superior didn’t walk away.
Sometimes things all worked out.
“And one day, you’ll tell me what it was that you wanted with my Second?”
“Unquestionably,” she said, drawing the hood of her traveling cloak over her head. “Unquestionably.”
Later, after I’d moved from the balcony up the long corridors and stairs to my room, after I’d washed from my skin the blood and ash, the signs of battle, I found the window of our room. It was a darkening sky, and there was no fear in that for me. Daybreak would come, as it always did, and we would decide how to take on the new trials it offered.
Chevelle’s sigh reached me before the sound of his blade being laid on the high table. I had been angry with him, or frustrated, but the exhaustion and the long walk back had taken that out of me. As much as I might want to, I could not hold his choices against him. He had made them long ago, when our circumstances had taken other options away. He might have told me, but it would not have prevented what had come. It would not have saved Ruby.
We had survived, all of us, together.
I let Chevelle clean his battle-weathered skin, have a quiet moment of his own. I took one last look at the sky, one last flight through this dark domain. Stone by stone, my ancestors had built this castle. Day by day. They had not all been like Asher—hungry for power, corrupted by greed. Some had been honorable, I was sure. I couldn’t say that I remembered their stories, but certainly, they must have been there. History had not been kind to the good men. It had forgotten those who sacrificed without gain.
I didn’t need to be remembered. I only wanted to be alive, to stay in the now.
Chevelle’s arms wrapped firmly about my waist, drawing me to him. I settled into the embrace, knowing all was well. No matter what was to come, I had this. I had Chevelle. We stood among the comforts of our new place, this suite of rooms that held no memorials to the difficulties of our past.
We might look ahead when we were called to, but when we were here, in this room, it would be the only place we were. I would live in Chevelle’s arms, feel the touch of his skin, the sweet sound of him breathing my name, the heat of his lips. It would be my domain.
It would be ours, and standing before the window that overlooked the North in Chevlle’s embrace, I’d never felt more at home.
Epilogue
Ruby
The fey had destroyed nearly everything Ruby had collected. Her stockpile of herbs and tonics had been scattered over the floor of her room and halfway down the hall. The castle staff had cleaned it, carefully separating and disposing of each powder and potion so as not to create something worse. And now Ruby sat in Grey’s room, balefully staring at his table, where she’d managed to concoct a reasonable medicine or two. She sighed. It would be a long time before she could replenish her stock, and she could manage a much better attitude if she only had some wormroot and aconite to heal Grey’s wounds.
She couldn’t bear to look at him without wincing. Keane had burned Grey, and poisoned him, and it was all her fault.
She flicked a beetle shell off the edge of a fresh mandragora leaf, silently cursing her fool plan.
“Stop fidgeting,” Grey muttered. “It will heal with time.”
She rolled her eyes, not looking at him, and his poor burned hand moved to cover hers. His skin was pink and blistered, glowing unnaturally in the candlelight thanks to the salve. She could do nothing more for it. Nothing but wait.
Her fault. She’d gotten Grey tangled in this mess, no one else. She’d thought she could handle it, that he and Steed would do their part and she would keep her distance, as she always had, to keep them safe.
She hadn’t. She’d gotten too close, given too much away, and everyone knew. Everyone had seen how she felt about him, the watching pixies and treacherous little fey. They’d reported it, turned the information over to her enemies without a second thought. Fools, the lot of them. Worse than even her. They’d probably under-bargained, even given the information away. Those who’d been smart enough to realize what they had probably hadn’t made it out alive. The truly clever ones would have stayed on fey lands, would have never tracked her here.
“Ruby,” Grey said, gently moving the pads of his fingers over each of the bones of her hand. “Leave it. What’s done is done. We all live.”
She shook her head. “No. What’s done is not done. It never is.” She moved to glare at him, but the heat of her anger was stolen instantly at the sight of his face. He was wan, long strands of his hair damp and sticking to his brow from her constant ministrations. Unburnt.
“He left you like that,” Ruby told him. “It was his purpose, to allow me to see your face.” She shuddered. “Even when the rest of you would be ruined.”
“I’m not ruined,” he said. “It never got that far.”
Keane had planned it though, Ruby was certain. The high fey had a reputation, and it wasn’t good. He would have toyed with his prize for seasons if they’d won her. Used Grey for control of Ruby, used him for their games.
“I should never have allowed you to join us,” she decided. “When we stole Frey from the council, you and Steed should have been nowhere in sight.”
Grey laughed, but the sound had not come easily. He was still sore, weak. “You act as if you had a choice.”
“I had many choices. So many.” Her free hand brushed a lock of hair from his temple, slowly, carefully. “I tried to see what was coming, Grey. But I was wrong. Every time.”
“Ruby—” he started.
“No. You don’t know.” She scoffed, and the assembly of candles flickered. She’d not used her magic near Grey, not after what he’d been through. “I’ve been a fool,” she told him. “A solid, thorough fool.”
She couldn’t heal him more than she had. But she could tell him why he’d been burned. She could do at least this. After everything else.
“I won’t pretend my motives were pure. Not to begin with. Chevelle needed something from me, and I him. It was a bargain, plain as that.” She shifted, moving on the edge of the bed to face him fully where he was propped on an excess of down pillows. “This thing has been hanging over my head the whole of my life, Grey. The fey have wanted me, to collect me and use me as if I were no more than a stone.”
Grey’s hand moved over Ruby’s, and she let him turn her palm so that it would touch his. She had only ever allowed him that: small contact here or there, a tender moment in passing. She had known, deep down, that she could never truly have him. Or he her.
Because of the fey.
“I didn’t understand what was at stake,” she continued. “Freya, I mean, you saw her.” Her free hand gestured vaguely in the air, indicating the broken, bound girl Frey had been. “I didn’t think it would go this way, or I might have made another choice.” Her gaze rested firmly on Grey’s. “I might not have. I think you should know that.”
His hand tightened in hers.
“Once we’d rescued her from Council, once we found Asher and saw what he had done… Things changed then, for all of us. But Freya took me in. A Halfling. A fey in the high guard.” She shook her head, in disbelief even now. “Don’t think I hadn’t heard what they thought of fey before that. Don’t think their words had never made it to my ears.” Grey’s eyes were soft, understanding, but he had never behaved as if he even knew she’d fey blood. To him, Ruby was Ruby. Nothing more. Or maybe everything more.
She cleared her throat. “But she took me in. She stood up for me. In front of her entire kingdom, above her own men.” Ruby hadn’t forgotten the banquet, Freya giving leave for her to claim a price from one of her attendees, just for questioning the decision. For having a half-fey girl a
mong her guard. Ruby had only taken the man’s braid, but it had been enough. It had made her see.
“This is my home now, Grey.” She swallowed hard, placing her hand over the cloth that bandaged his arm. “All of this.” Him. She meant him. Why couldn’t she just say it?
“Pitt,” she explained. “I was wrong about what he wanted. His test. He’d not needed to see if I could harness the base power.”
Grey’s brow shifted. He’d had enough time to work most of the poison through his system, and Ruby had only given him a mild tonic for pain. His mind worked fine. He understood this was a problem.
“Pitt’s motives went deeper. He wasn’t the fool I’d thought him.” She pressed her lips together. “He wanted to know if I was strong. As strong as my mother.”
Ruby was stronger. She knew that.
Grey knew that.
She was everything the changeling would need.
“When he disappeared,” she started, resisting the urge to look over her shoulder. They were alone here, in the quiet dark of Grey’s suite of rooms. Despite the coldness that ran through her, the changeling fey could not be near. Even if he was alive, even if he’d somehow slipped away. It was impossible, wasn’t it? Everyone had said it was impossible. This was her fault, she reminded herself. It was all her. “After the fates’ dance,” she admitted, “when Pitt went missing, he had the ruby.” The ruby that would allow him to store immense power. Power he would need if he were not in the fey lands.
Grey watched her for a long moment, trying to read the emotions that crossed her face. She barely knew herself. Fear, anger, determination.
“Ruby, I don’t understand. What are you trying to tell me?”
She touched his face, her smooth, pale skin barely grazing his cheek where the shadows danced from candlelight. “You are my home now, Grey. I won’t risk it. I will not risk any of you.”
They were her family, her Seven, and no one could take that from her.
Not even a changeling fey.
She wouldn’t let him. She would find him.
Even if she had to burn every forest to ash.
Also by Melissa Wright
Thank you for reading The Frey Saga Book IV: Venom and Steel. Please look for more by Melissa Wright:
* * *
THE FREY SAGA
Frey
Pieces of Eight
Molly (a short story)
Rise of the Seven
Venom and Steel
* * *
THE DESCENDANTS SERIES
Bound by Prophecy
Shifting Fate
Reign of Shadows
* * *
SHATTERED REALMS
King of Ash and Bone
Queen of Iron and Blood
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Visit the author on the web at www.Melissa-Wright.com
Acknowledgments
Special thanks to author Jennifer Silverwood, who inspired and encouraged me throughout what was the hardest book yet. Your friendship and support has meant more than you can imagine.
Love and gratitude to author R.K. Ryals, who continues to amaze in both her writing and her camaraderie. Thanks for always being there when your schedule is just as hectic as mine, and thanks for always understanding—even before I attempt to explain.
To Brittany, who has aided me through writing difficulties in nearly every book, subtly improving character, plot, and not-so-subtly my mood. It’s been a pleasure to work with someone who genuinely loves stories, and I’m glad to have had you through each of these.
Thanks to my lovely, ever-patient editor, who I feel I can never thank enough. I’m grateful every day for your safety net, for knowing you’ll pull my messes into a workable design.
To the readers, who asked for more of this series and sent so much love. I hope it lives up to your expectations.
And to Mom, who’s been there all along.
THE FREY SAGA cover art by Gene Mollica Studios, LLC
About the Author
Melissa is the author of eight YA and Fantasy novels, and countless to-do lists. She’s currently working on the next book, but can occasionally be found painting, drawing, or devouring YA and Paranormal fantasies (usually via audiobook). Check out her works in progress in both writing and illustration at Instagram, keep up with giveaways and release news at Twitter, follow at the blog or via the many links at www.Melissa-Wright.com.
Thanks for reading!
The Frey Saga Book IV Page 17