by L. P. Dover
There were a few books on the side table, so I reached across and pulled the top one to my pillow. I flipped through the pages and abruptly became more alert; it was about magic. I hurriedly read through, wanting to learn as much as possible, but slowed on the section marked exchange. This book claimed using magic consumed your energy. Not just immediately available energy, but life energy.
I’d never known a book to lie, but I couldn’t imagine its applications in life. Ruby was giving part of her existence to draw me a bath? Chevelle and Steed forfeited time for a silly instructional match? It couldn’t have been right. I tried to recall, though still clouded with fog, the magic I’d seen in the village. The youngsters played, careless with the use, often until they collapsed from exhaustion. But the elders, they were reserved. I couldn’t think of them using it for anything that could be done with less physical energy. They hunted with weapons, wrote with their hands, worked as if they took pleasure in it. Was there no energy left for the magic? Or was it not important until you reached the close of your years and realized it was almost gone? I remembered how long a thousand years seemed to me before I planned on spending it in a prison.
Ruby walked in and I snapped the book shut, positive I shouldn’t have taken it from her table without permission. She glanced at it and I knew from her stifled reaction I'd not be able to ask her about what I’d read.
“Sleep well?” she asked.
“Oh.” My voice was hoarse so she handed me a glass of water, which she smoothly traded for the book. “Dreams,” I complained.
She smiled as she sat on the bed beside me. “Some seek out the breath. They say it is foresight.”
“Foresight?”
She nodded. “What did you see?” She raised an eyebrow questioningly.
“Not the future.”
She laughed. “Have a bath. You’ll be good as new.” The water was coming in the window again and I wondered at what I had just read. Surely the dust and fog were meddling with my thoughts. “Chevelle will be swapping with us for the evening,” she explained.
The bath refreshed me, but unfortunately, it also cleared my thoughts. No wonder Ruby had drugged me. I tried not to think about the tracker as I dressed. The smell of cold and morning hung in the air and I felt a pang of guilt, though I couldn’t help but use the fragrance, knowing Chevelle would be there. I appraised myself in the mirror and smiled. Yes, the dust was still influencing me.
I opened the door and walked into the main room. Chevelle was sitting on the bench seat, leaning over as he worked on something. He raised his head as I approached and closed his hand around it before sliding it into a pocket. He looked anxious.
I was still feeling peculiar, so I climbed into the seat beside him, curling my feet up close. He watched me, his eyes lingering even after I had settled. It felt as if he yearned to say something to me. The tension became too much and I broke. “Ruby drugged me.”
He smiled. “She told me. She was worried about your sanity.” The last word cracked, he seemed to regret saying it.
“Did she tell you,” I wasn’t sure I should be admitting this, “I read her book?”
“Yes.”
He wasn’t offering any information, I would have to ask. The dust must have given me courage. “It talked about exchange.” Still nothing. “About energy … life … for magic.”
He cleared his throat. “Yes.”
“Can you tell me about it?”
“Today, after Anvil sparred with Steed, you saw how the strike drained him. This is something you’ll need to know for a group conflict. The tactics are different than one on one.” He hadn’t answered my question at all. But he was talking and I would take it. I nodded for him to go on. “A single opponent allows you to use more energy, focus only on that and let yourself …”
My thoughts were wandering. Stupid dust.
“… but with a number of opponents, you have to reserve your energy so you don’t leave yourself too weak …”
I was watching his mouth move as he spoke, but losing the words. I needed to focus.
“… tactics that do not drain your energy. Protect yourself …”
I was leaning toward him. Stupid idiot.
“… even hand-to-hand combat or choose a weapon. Ruby’s whip, a staff …”
Stupid Ruby.
“Frey.”
“Hm?”
He shook his head. “Never mind.”
I was already angled toward him and I was still moving. My mind was screaming stop, but it was too late, I had closed in on him, his lips. I was close enough my intent was unmistakable when he stopped me, grabbing both arms around the bicep with a too-tight grip. “Freya–”
A howl. A wolf.
He let out a deep breath and it tickled my nose. My head cleared enough to realize my mistake and I cursed. He still held me around the arms, neither of us moving. My neck flushed and I looked down, embarrassed. When the door opened, Chevelle dropped his hands, spinning as he stood to face it.
“They are here.” Steed’s voice, but I didn’t raise my head, sure the flush was still in my cheeks.
“Take her to the ridge, I will meet you after—” Chevelle stopped midsentence. After what? Steed must have been concerned because Chevelle explained, “Ruby gave her a little dust … to relax.”
“Frey.” Steed was beside me. I glanced at the door, Chevelle was gone. “Are you well?”
“Ugh.”
He snickered. “Come on.” He swept me up, planning to carry me. My head spun.
“No. Please let me walk.”
“You do not tolerate that stuff well. You’re going to have to lay off the shimmer.”
“It’s not like I chose to take it,” I complained. He laughed.
The cold air helped a little. I was back in the circle, the group of us sitting around a small fire. Ruby was telling stories. She related the tale of Bonnie Bell, a blue fairy from the East. “He hunts the human children, luring them in with glitter and lights, and eats them, beginning with the toes. Though given no choice in the matter, in exchange, he allows the mother one wish.”
I scoffed, “Humans aren’t real.”
“Even so,” she continued, smiling wickedly, “you’d be surprised how many don’t think to wish for their children back.” Raucous laughter floated up around the ring. Fairy tales indeed.
It felt good being there, surrounded by my new companions, a fire and stories, laughter. This was more of a home than Fannie’s had ever been. But I was also under the influence of a fairy.
“Better yet?” Ruby asked. I grimaced.
Grey approached. “Ruby, dear, won’t you allow us to partake?”
“Speak for yourself,” Anvil cracked from across the fire, “last time I lost a bit of tongue.” I cringed and remembered my dream. I thought I could still smell burning flesh.
Ruby laughed. “Ah, well, I suppose just this once.”
Grey sat on a stone and she leaned over him as if to kiss, but stopped just short. A glint of light hit from the fire and he breathed in the shimmer. As she pulled away, his arm trailed slowly off hers and I suddenly felt I was intruding, so averted my eyes.
Steed was beside me, he gave me a gentle smile. I like Steed. He’s a good guy. I shook my head to clear it. Stupid dust.
Ruby joined us. “Do the effects last longer sometimes?” I asked.
“It depends.”
“On what?” Seemed like an obvious follow up.
“Your mood.”
I was irritated all over again, but got distracted when she licked the point of an arrow. “What are you doing?”
She grinned. “Look, Frey, I don’t know if you’re up for this story right now.” I didn’t think she was funny. She sighed. “Okay, but you’ll probably regret it.”
“Just give her the short version, Ruby,” Steed interrupted. “No gory details.” His eyebrow was cocked meaningfully.
“Oh, well yes, that would do.” She smiled at me as she licked another arrow. �
�You see, my dear, being a one of a kind … well, as far as I know … has its benefits. Though they weren’t always benefits. Ooh, in the beginning it was bad … but well, that’s the long version, isn’t it? No gory details.” She winked at Steed. “I am, how should I put it … venomous.”
I gasped. It was her expected response. “Yes, yes. I know.” She held her tongue out for me to examine. As she pressed another arrow against it, tiny slits opened up and released a translucent liquid. “Not really venom, per se, all fairies have it. A chemical to help break down their food. Just that mine is toxic to many. Not to worry, though, I have pretty good control of it now. Nasty, poisonous stuff.” She laughed again. “You know, that’s what Chevelle thought I intended the first time I dusted you.” I recalled the panic in his voice before he whisked her away. As disastrous a night that was, this one hadn’t gone much better.
“Ruby, please take Frey back to the house.” Chevelle was standing behind us. I was too exhausted to jump. She glanced back at him, not at all surprised he was there.
Her face crinkled. “Didn’t go well?” He didn’t respond, but was obviously frustrated. I couldn’t tell if it was with Ruby or whatever hadn't gone well. Or the idiotic offspring of his parent’s murderer who tried to seduce him in a drunken stupor. It didn’t matter, I was being removed again.
Ruby rambled about all of the difficulties of, and uses for, venom on our way back. She’d gotten so involved in her stories I thought she must have forgotten I was there. Her last words confirmed it. “No one knew to check. How would they? I mean a new … species. A new breed. And lethal. Poison to her mother. They couldn’t even know that was what happened until the others. Until the pattern became patent and they found the source.”
Poison. To her mother.
Chapter Twelve
Unexpected Company
My dreams were wicked that night, all venom and wolves, snakes and beasts, death and fire. I woke in my bed, light filtering in through the window. The door was open and I could see Chevelle sitting in the front room. I was hesitant to face him.
I stayed there, awake, and ran back through the events of the night, the stories. I turned my head to bury it in a pillow when embarrassment flooded me again, and a small black object on the side table caught my attention. I picked it up to examine. A small bird, carved of stone. A hawk. Of onyx.
I knew at once it was what Chevelle had been working on, carving. And then I recognized the stone, the large black stone that pummeled my face for days, and I couldn’t help but snicker. I remembered the tiny hawk he had made with magic and my disappointment when it had turned back to the dull gray rock. He had carved me this symbol with his own hands.
Now I was completely ashamed of my actions the previous night. Completely.
I closed my hand around it and noticed the painting on my wrist. A hawk. I knew I had to face him. This might be a peace offering. I stood and walked into the main room, clutching the figure in my fist for courage.
He was not alone.
A statuesque elf with chalcedony hair and eyes rose as I came into view. Not in the respectful ‘a lady entered the room’ way, but in a way that led me to believe he wasn’t happy to have me, or anyone, find him there. He held a long staff, gripped so tightly his knuckles whitened, and he was dressed in casual traveling clothes that didn’t seem to fit his posture.
I found myself questioning whether it were a disguise, and then I chastised myself for wandering around in ridiculous thoughts so often. They were watching me. Stupid brain fog.
I stood there for a moment, unsure if I should leave the room after I had so obviously interrupted or pretend I had a mission and make my way to Ruby’s room. I clearly wasn’t welcome there. Neither spoke. I lowered my gaze to the floor and took the shortest route to Ruby’s door, closing it behind me after a hasty entry.
I heard Chevelle speak to his guest. Asher, he had called him, and wished I’d heard them before I’d come out of my own room. The man was leaving, and I thought Chevelle was trying to persuade him in some way, but he was short and cold in his responses. Quiet, too. Paranoid, I imagined the man didn’t want me to hear them. I heard the front door close as I flopped on the bed.
I jolted upright when Ruby’s door opened a few seconds later. It was Chevelle. My courage was gone again. He seemed to be waiting for me to speak. I tried, “I’m sorry I interrupted …” He nodded, but I didn’t know if he was acknowledging my interruption or pardoning it. He walked slowly toward the bed, glancing around at Ruby’s things on the shelves and walls, and then beside me. I hadn’t even noticed anything was there. I hurriedly peeked down to see what it was. Nothing of consequence, I was glad. And then he sat on the bed beside me. I forced myself to continue breathing and kept my gaze down, knowing a flush was coming.
He reached out and placed a hand under my chin, bringing my face up to meet his. The flush that followed was not from embarrassment. Heat flooded my neck as he spoke my name, “Frey.”
“Yes.” It was all I could manage in this particular situation.
His eyes held mine and I could swear he was searching for something. He opened his mouth to speak, but the door of the wardrobe flew open.
“Oh.” Ruby giggled the tiniest bit. “Excuse me. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” She seemed especially pleased she had, however.
Chevelle’s hand dropped and I could see out of the corner of my eye his face was hard and he was once again wholly irritated.
Ruby continued, “Steed said you had a guest, so I just used the back …” She trailed off when his stare didn’t soften. But she smiled. “You know, you do have your own room.”
He stiffened and stood, not at all amused by her implication.
Ruby began gathering things as she spoke, pretending she hadn’t noticed his attitude. “So, how did it go?”
He relaxed a little, but his mood didn’t rise in the least. “We shall see.”
“Indeed,” she purred. “Indeed.”
He didn’t look back at me as he left the room, he simply directed Ruby to take me with her when she’d finished. She seemed more than happy to comply, and I had no doubt we would be training again. I slid the hawk sculpture into my pocket.
She hummed a tune as she gathered, throwing a cloak at me in the process, which I promptly tied and drew the hood up. “Want me to carry anything?” I asked.
She eyed me as if I was entirely absurd. “Well, if you would like to, I can find something for you.” I glared at her back and she turned to grab my arm beneath the cloak, yanking me solidly behind her to leave the house through her closet. She replaced the cover that hid the entrance and grabbed a quiver of arrows from the ground before pulling me forward again.
“What are those for?” I asked, indicating the arrows, fully afraid they would somehow be used in my training.
“They are arrows, Frey.” She was really on a roll today. I shook my head and she laughed. “We are leaving them for Rhys and Rider to find.”
“Are they poisoned?”
“Yes.”
I considered that. “Did they use all the ones you prepared last night?”
She laughed. “You’re silly, Freya. It’s fun.” The way she pronounced my name, like it was dear to her, made it harder to be angry with her. But I made the effort.
“It’s not entirely my fault,” I said. And then I was sorry I'd spoken anything, let alone mentioned the fog. I didn’t need to defend myself to her.
“I know,” she said, “but it’s still fun.” I wondered if she did know. Like everyone before. I pushed the thought from my head, knowing there was still no other option. Whatever Chevelle had planned, whatever his friends were doing to entertain themselves with me, was better than the alternative.
“I thought the dogs were their weapons of choice,” I said, cringing a bit as I remembered their demonstration.
She laughed again. “Wolves, Frey.”
“Wolves,” I repeated.
“And they aren’t weapons.”
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“They don’t use them to attack?”
She spoke like she was explaining to a child. “Yes, the wolves attack. But not as weapons. Not by command of the elves. The wolves attack who they want. Protect who they want.”
“They don’t control them?”
“No, silly. No one can control animals.” She cocked an eyebrow at me speculatively.
“But—”
“Okay, well, sure, you can lead an animal. You can turn your horse and guide him on the path but that is simply pushing their heads and encouraging them with the click of your heels. But you can’t make them choose to take you; it just doesn’t work that way. You can’t get into an animal’s mind and make them … behave the way you want them to.”
“But the dogs … wolves, follow them. They had them do a demonstration and—”
“No, Frey. The wolves do not follow the elves. The wolves protect them by choice.”
“By choice?”
“Yes. And I have seen them tear an elf apart as quickly as defend them.” I shivered. “Rhys and Rider were saved by the wolves once. They think the animals understand. They follow the wolves, you see. That is why they are here.” We topped the ridge, jagged rock and loose dirt shifting beneath our feet, and Ruby dropped the quiver by the edge before climbing down with a deftness I had yet to master.
I followed, finding Steed, Anvil, and Grey waiting below. As we resumed training, I tried to keep my mind off the wolves, off the reason I needed this practice, off my encounter with Chevelle, off all of the terrible things it kept returning to, and I was grateful for the fog that clouded my thoughts.
Though I wasn’t exactly winning matches, I was getting better. The battering continued, and long days of constant fighting were making me tired. We took a break and I leaned back on a rock, staring at the sky as I rested.