I didn’t know whether it was the pain in my head or recognition of the name that brought me back, but I was gone from the castle in a heartbeat. I sat up on my blankets, rubbing my temples as I attempted to focus on the memories. Vita. My mother’s mother, I’d read it in the diary. She’d died, from grief, it had said. My mother had tried to see her, and her room later, but it was sealed, kept from her by her father.
“Headache?” Ruby was watching me. I had an audience. Big surprise. I opened my mouth to speak but was too exhausted so I just shook my head and lay back down. It was near impossible to examine the memories now, between the exhaustion and pain. So I tried to not think as I drifted off to sleep.
I felt better when I woke but I was positive I could have used a few more hours sleep. I was a little grumpy and more foggy than usual. By late morning, I’d remembered that I was mad at Ruby for keeping something from me and I shot a glare her direction.
Steed saw my sour face. “Don’t be sore with Ruby.”
I raised an eyebrow at him.
“She had her reasons for the invasion.” He read the confusion on my face and continued in a hushed tone, “She’s very interested in your… lineage.”
I realized he was talking about her reading my mother’s diary and the anger was suddenly stronger. I had forgotten that part. He’d stopped talking so I composed my face and waited, trying to look patient.
He smiled at my attempt. We fell back from the others as he explained. “You know some of her story, that she’s a half-breed.”
Patience was a hard thing.
“Oh, I should just start from the beginning. It will be a long ride after all.” He could tell I was struggling.
His grin died as he began what I knew was a serious story. “My mother and father had a happy life. Their differences fit nicely together and their bonds were strong. But the horses couldn’t thrive on the mountains that my mother loved and my father traveled often to find new blood to bring in for the line, so he was gone sometimes for months at a time, as was I, once I began to learn the trade. Which is why we were both absent during the… incident in which she lost her life.”
I tried not to groan. I was sure the “incident” he referred to was the massacre single-handedly caused by my mother.
“We returned separately, as I was detained, in another matter, and so I was not there when he’d received the news.”
I realized I was holding my breath and focused on matching it to the rhythm of the hoofbeats.
“When I finally saw him, he was beyond distraught. He was… not himself. I was fearful for him but I too was in mourning. And I had my own duties to fulfill. So, I found myself gone again when the second tragedy befell him.”
Ruby’s mother.
“The fairy found him in such a condition that it was effortless to sway him with enchantments. All this, you know. But what Ruby has left out is the root of the issue. Yes, you are similar in that you are both from unmatched parents.” I very nearly laughed at his term. “But the real reason she was interested in your mother’s diary was because that, well, you, were what sparked the idea in her own mother’s twisted mind.”
I was lost.
He could tell.
“You see, Frey, your mother was bred, uh, created for uniqueness. But you, you were born with it.”
I couldn’t think of my own mother, of myself, now labeled a crossbreed, so instead I thought of Ruby. Uniqueness. “Well, she got it, didn’t she?” I knew we were both thinking of her venom when we looked at her then.
She turned back with a half smile and shot us a wink. I could see why Steed had helped her now. And after all that her mother had done to destroy his family, it almost gave me hope. It did seem that this group had forgiven me for my mother’s actions. I wondered how clearly those actions might have been detailed in the diary.
“I wish I’d finished reading it,” I said sullenly.
“Why don’t you?”
“I don’t know where it is.”
“I’m sure Ruby has it. She carries everything she values with her.”
Ah, hope. I almost clicked my heels to catch her right then, but she was riding by Chevelle. He tended to get annoyed at this sort of thing. And I still had an odd feeling about him, the dream, the memory. I tried to shake it off but I stayed back with Steed.
I had a lot to avoid thinking about as we rode, so I bantered with him like we had when we’d first met. It was nice to be out of the castle, to have a purpose. Even if I had to keep from thinking of what our purpose was so that I didn’t quiver in fear or get sick to my stomach with worry. When we talked, the laughs came easy and soon our pace had slowed as everyone joined in the conversations.
The casual pace continued throughout the day and everyone seemed in good spirits when we stopped, earlier than usual, for the evening. I groaned when Ruby suggested training before dinner so Chevelle offered to spar with me. He knew it was something I enjoyed, possibly the only training that was tolerable. Mostly it was because I didn’t get hurt but also it wasn’t as tiring. Everyone gathered around to watch as we clashed swords, a rhythmic clinking the only sound besides the occasional comment or murmur of approval from the makeshift audience.
As it often did when I was training with Chevelle, time slipped past faster than I’d realized. It was getting dark when he straightened and lowered his sword. I tried to wipe the silly grin off my face; I knew I was improving immensely, at this at least. Someone lit a flame and our audience moved to surround it. I started to follow but Chevelle stood for a moment, simply watching me. I thought he might have something to say but the pressure of silence started to build and I panicked, blowing out a nervous breath as I hurried past him to join the others.
I glanced at him frequently during dinner. He seemed to be watching me but sometimes I imagined stuff like that. I was, after all, looking at him. When it became obvious I was staring, I looked back down, nervously picking at my food, the whole process becoming daunting because I kept feeling his eyes on me.
After we’d eaten, Ruby came to sit beside me, smiling mischievously as she slipped me the diary. I should have known she’d heard. I held it in my hand, unsure now that I wanted to read it. Maybe Ruby had been right about being happier not knowing. I ran my fingers over the cover, etched with a V. Now I knew it was Vita’s initial there. I remembered once thinking it stood for Vattier. I’d been wrong about so many things.
I tucked it into my bag. After the day we’d had, I didn’t want to lose the good feelings just yet.
But I should have known better.
Chapter Three
Recognition
I’d fallen asleep thinking of nothing more than the patterns of crossing swords (choosing to avoid the thoughts of Chevelle) so I was surprised, in my dreams, that it was Fannie I’d seen. It was a familiar dream but I couldn’t be sure why. I was taking in the scene from above, my vision slightly off. I could see her there, wild, violent. She was destroying the village around her, uprooting trees, burning them to ash. And she was laughing. As I watched the devastation, I recognized the villagers as my own, but even in my dream, that was not the worrisome part. There was something frightening about it, but not the broken bodies, not the demolished grounds. Something else, something I couldn’t quite grasp…
I woke unsettled. The group still seemed in their elevated moods, but I couldn’t shake the foreboding. I was quiet as we mounted and started back on our path. We had been riding long enough that the way had settled some. It wasn’t as steep or rocky as it had been so I was able to relax a little, physically anyway.
I guessed it was because I was thinking of her, but I realized that I knew something about Fannie. Something that I was sure hadn't been explained to me. It might have only been a dream but it seemed like it had just come back, or been there, unnoticed until I'd thought of her. However it had happened, it was there and it was, like all my other "new" memories, odd.
What I knew was that Fannie had been skipped over, older
and rightfully next in line for the throne before her sister. Their father had for all public purposes disowned her, instead choosing my mother as his secondary, his heir. The details weren't all there in my mind but I remembered from reading my mother's diary that from an early age Fannie had been shunned for her light features, a product of her mother's heritage, and was a disappointment because of her lack of power, or maybe a uniqueness, that her sister apparently possessed.
It was disturbing to turn up new information in such a way. Most of the recovered memories came to me in dreams, which could be slightly confusing at times because the dreams often seemed real enough to be memories and the memories often so strange they could have been dreams. Chevelle had once told me that he thought the memories found their way out easier in my sleep, that they didn't have to fight so hard to be released from their bonds while my mind was resting and unable to resist. It had made sense. But now, now I wasn't sure they couldn't just slip through at any time. Or maybe they were there and I simply hadn't sifted through them enough to find out. A shiver ran through me, though I was wrapped tightly in my cloak.
A rock clattered down the path, knocked loose from a horse hoof, and I stiffened. Embarrassed, I adjusted in my saddle and tried to relax my posture before anyone saw how jumpy I was. I casually looked right and left, checking the faces of the others. They seemed oblivious. Or maybe they were just getting used to me.
The dream had shaken me and I needed some peace of mind so I closed my eyes and drifted, finding solace in the bird soaring overhead. Once above, I glided for a while in large, calming circles. Eventually, I looked down at our group and then scanned farther out, surveying the mountain and our path ahead. I wasn’t positive where we’d be going, but if I could do a sweep of the land every morning… or maybe a few times a day…
And then I was back in my own head again. Gah, what had I gotten myself into now? Hunting Grand Council, scoping out the perimeter, planning to capture animals for use in battle. I decided that I might have been nuts; that maybe people weren’t looking at me like I was an idiot all the time, maybe they were wondering if I was crazy. But in the back of my mind I had to fight a thought that said I might be. After all, my mother had been. I felt my face pinch up and tried to smooth it out before someone noticed.
I realized they were otherwise occupied when Grey began whistling a tune and asked Anvil to join in, provoking him about his tongue. Anvil flung a metal stud from his vest at him in retaliation and it must have been carrying electricity because the instant it hit Grey he jerked, almost losing his seat. Steed laughed wildly and it wasn't long before a mêlée between the three ensued. I was starting to enjoy the spectacle, though segments of it did look pretty painful, but Chevelle eventually stepped in, informing them that he could think of a better use of their energy. I thought I saw him smirk when, several minutes later, Steed and Grey were still twitching.
And then an image came to my mind. For no reason that I could come up with, I saw, or rather, remembered someone. There was a split second of astonishment before fear choked me.
It must have been audible because instantly the others were surrounding me, confused and concerned and ready to act. “What?” I heard someone say, but I wasn’t sure who. My ears were ringing again but I couldn’t bring myself to be irritated because I was overwhelmed with fear that was quickly turning into hatred.
I made an effort to focus when Chevelle was suddenly in front of me. I thought he’d grabbed me by the arms and pulled me from my horse, but I couldn’t be sure because when I was finally able to bring myself back to the moment, he was all I could see. So close, right in front of me, demanding my attention. But it was good he was close, because I was only capable of a whisper. “Archer Lake.”
Two words, but it was enough. I heard the intake of breath sweep through my audience, though all I could see was Chevelle’s face. It was a study in fury. The name meant something to him as well, but I couldn’t tell if it was more than simple recognition. Because all I knew about Archer Lake was that he was a member of Grand Council. And I hated him.
I heard someone ask where and I forced the sickening hatred down enough to explain. Not a vision from above… a memory, returned from nowhere, as if it dropped from the sky, and missing essential pieces. I had no idea how I knew him, no idea when (though it had to be from my previous life – didn’t it?), and no idea why it had come back. Only the image of his face and the knowledge of his station. And the feeling that accompanied them.
“Does that happen a lot?” Grey asked, concerned.
“No.” I answered automatically, and then remembered. “Just today.”
“There’s more?” Chevelle interceded.
“I’m not sure. I just remembered, or rather, think I knew something new about Fannie this morning.”
He blanched.
It seemed like less of a coincidence now. The dream of Fannie that had bothered me so much was creeping into my thoughts again. And the one before, the one that included him. I looked down, away from his face, still blank with shock.
After a few minutes, Ruby collected herself enough to keep me occupied as usual. She offered me some powder for my headache, which I refused, having been subjected to her concoctions in the past, and fluttered around doing things. I didn’t watch her too closely, partially because sometimes the flow of her clothes and swing of her bright red curls made my head ache more, but mostly because I was forcing myself not to hope (and at the same time, fear) that my memory was returning.
The group made like there was a good reason we’d stopped for so long in the middle of the day, busying themselves as well. When we’d finally gotten back on the horses, they took it easy until early evening when we’d stopped again to make camp. I was impressed that they had managed to make creating a fire and situating themselves around it a seven-man task.
No one even mentioned training.
The next morning, I woke groggy to find that they’d let me sleep in. The idleness seemed to bother Grey and Anvil; they looked a little itchy to get back on the trail, so I hurried to mount my horse, taking my cold breakfast with me. I couldn’t believe I’d actually slept through the smell of cooking meat. I remembered how I used to love elk, but it was everyone else’s favorite as well, which made it hard to come by on the mountain.
And then I froze.
I had a new memory. I examined it, trying to decide if I should, if I could, explain it to the group. It was nothing but a “like.”
I decided to save it; maybe I’d tell them if I remembered more. Chevelle was looking at me now so I kicked my horse up, pretending I had only been daydreaming.
We rode at a more normal pace and the ground was leveling off a bit as the mountain valleyed into a smaller ridge. I looked back for the castle but between the distance and fog it couldn't been seen. I wondered how the cats were doing. When they’d arrived there had been more than one fight; they were extremely territorial and I couldn’t seem to convince them otherwise by impression. Complicated animals. It made me curious as to how other animals would react. I’d had a pretty limited experience so far. Birds proved very useful. I recalled my plan from yesterday and looked up, trying to find a vessel to scan the mountain again.
I found a large red-tail. It was a nice one, good eyes. I thought of having it come with us, in case I wasn’t able to find one when the urge struck, but there seemed to be plenty available.
We continued riding casually for days, turning as we entered the valley to follow the more passable ground on our way down. Twice I’d spotted the wolves. It made me feel more secure but I still did a quick sweep from above at least three times a day, as I became more paranoid the further from the castle we were. And the closer to our destination, wherever that was.
It was then Ruby decided to start telling her fairy stories, which, now that I knew they were probably all true, I didn’t like to hear. I was trying to ignore her by flying over the valley, gliding and enjoying the view.
It wasn’t as roc
ky here and the vegetation was coming back. The trees were a deep green and appearing more and more frequently. I realized I was subconsciously counting them in their patches, dark green, dark green, dark green.
“Does that not tire you?”
I almost jumped but surprise didn’t have the expected reactions in this body. Instead, it pulled me back to myself. I opened my eyes to find Anvil riding beside me, watching.
I smiled at him but he appeared to be waiting on something. I remembered he had asked me a question. “Oh, uh… I guess no, not really.”
This pleased him but when he smiled back I had to hold myself from reacting to the thought of his burning tongue. So strange that he would bring out such a pleasant feeling and the simple dreams of his tongue called up such a severe one. I forced it back.
I thought of his special talent, how it exhausted him of strength. “The lightning does, huh?” Sometimes, I thought I sounded like a dork. Mostly, it was when I wanted to impress someone.
He didn’t seem to notice. “Yes. But it’s worth it, I think.”
“How did you think to try?”
He laughed lightly. I apparently didn’t get the joke.
I found myself wondering if I could do it. I concentrated on my hands as we rode, willing electricity through them.
Nothing happened, not that I really expected it to. I saw Anvil’s cheeks tighten in a smile and I grimaced at forgetting he was beside me. Yep, usually just people I wanted to like me.
But he did like me. He was part of my guard…
I lowered my voice. “Anvil?”
He turned toward me more.
Ugh, how to ask? “What do you know about me?”
He was silent as he stared at me. I was waiting for his answer when I was thrown forward in the saddle as my horse stopped instantly. Chevelle’s was suddenly standing in front of mine, blocking us. “Frey, we’ve been neglecting your training. You should work with Anvil as you ride.”
Frey Saga Book II: Pieces of Eight Page 3