Rise of the Seven

by Melissa Wright

  I thought of the first day I’d seen him, outside Junnie’s door. “I’m surprised you even recognized me under the blur of glamour.”

  He chuckled. “I heard you, stealing around the back of the house. You were about as stealthy as a bull elk in a boar’s nest. Junnie tried to stop me, I wasn’t to be seen.” But he was there, still and solid as a statue, and I’d nearly tumbled into him. “I suppose it was fortunate you were masked.”

  I remembered his face, the tightness in his muscles, the restraint apparent in every part of him. He’d turned from me with fisted hands and disappeared.

  “And then you broke it,” he continued. I glanced up at him, pulled from my reverie. “You stood before council and transformed.” He glanced at my hair. “Dark seemed to seep out, drowning the pale like oil over straw.” His gaze moved to meet mine. “And your eyes shone as green as a fey flame.”

  I remembered. I’d unwittingly summoned the wind. Crushed the council speaker’s windpipe.

  Chevelle laughed humorlessly. “I thought you were going to kill him right there. And then you just left.”

  I’d run.

  I was unaware of how low our conversation had become, nearly a whisper, until rowdy laughter brought our attention back to the others. The banter between Steed, Anvil, and Grey had taken a fevered pitch, and they appeared ready to roll around the rock like tiger cubs. Ruby was egging it on.

  “Yes,” she taunted Anvil, “but you are more of a one-strike wonder.” Grey and Steed were in an uproar at this, but she carried on. “Steed can outlast any man.”

  A snicker escaped me and she turned to us.

  “Would you not agree?”

  I bit my lip.

  “Damned fairies,” Grey quipped, and there was suddenly a bolt of fire headed for his chest. He rolled and twisted and was abruptly standing behind her, hands at her hips. Her face was near the color of her hair and I laughed full out. She was going to slaughter him.

  “He’s quick,” Chevelle said, shaking his head.

  “You’d have to be.” I smiled, indicating Ruby.

  The exchange had evolved into a full-on brawl and Chevelle gave me a look that clearly implied it was my responsibility to manage it. Each day, I had more sympathy for what he must have endured on our previous journeys.

  Steed tumbled over Grey and their boots landed in the fire, kicking up smoke and embers.

  “Children,” I commanded. I was reasonably certain they’d not even heard me. I tried again, standing for the order. “Cease.”

  Steed looked up from his place on the ground, cheeks smeared with dirt and ash, and quirked his brow. That sly grin was the only indicator that he was about to launch himself at me. I could say I had no intention of joining in the melee, but that would be dishonest. I was going to have a little fun with him.

  I dropped to a defensive stance, arms out at the ready, just to give him permission. When he moved, I straightened back to my casual posture and waited. I let him get about half way.

  He was off his feet, airborne in his leap for me, when I flicked my wrist to leave no doubt where the blast had come from. I felt the percussion as it collided with his power, but it barely affected the strike. It threw him back with considerable force, which I expected, and into a very large boulder some distance from the camp, which I had not. The previously boisterous onlookers fell silent, not even laughing at Steed’s shocked expression.

  I might have overestimated the amount of power required for the move.

  I hadn’t meant to end our playtime so abruptly, but this was no time to admit it. I tilted my head slightly in acknowledgement of a completed battle, as if I’d not just humbled him in one motion, and turned back to my seat.

  The smile I found on Chevelle’s face could be called nothing but satisfied.

  No one challenged me over the following days, but they didn’t really spar either. I wasn’t sure if the upcoming meeting was weighing down their moods, or if they were saving their energy. Either way, I didn’t plan on practising until I’d figured out control. I pledged to myself I’d find the wolves when we returned and work out how to share or store this extra power before I hurt someone. And then I had to bite my lip not to smile at the memory of Steed’s face when I’d sent him flying through the air.

  “All right,” Chevelle said as he brought his horse to a stop. “This is the nearest we can get you. We can wait for her to find us, or search for some clue of where she’s hiding.”

  I smiled. “You make it sound as if she’s–” My words cut off at a sound from the trees behind us. I turned to find Rhys and Rider entering the clearing.

  They’d been following at a distance because I’d been attacked on our own lands. No one had expected this trip, so if there had been any other plotters, they’d be on the mountain. Not to mention that we didn’t want any of the rogue clans pursuing us here, in the First Forests. Words forgotten, I scanned the surrounding trees.

  I’d been surprised when Anvil had told me where Junnie would be. I wasn’t exactly shocked she’d gone into hiding, considering she’d turned on her own council and lost most of her family, but I hadn’t expected her to stray so far north of the villages and forests that had been her constant. The trees here were thin and wiry, more needled than broadleaf. The forest floor was moss and ink-bristle. This was a palette of night blossoms and jade flower, not the sunny rainbow of her home. She’d feel out of place here. Cold.

  I realized the others were watching me. Waiting.

  “Set camp here. I’ll have a look around, I should be able to tell where she’s been.” Surely, there would be some mark of her, some sign of growth or garden or change.

  Ruby went straight to forming a large fire. I doubted we’d need to make a spectacle, it wasn’t as if we’d be hard to spot, but I didn’t spoil her fun. Rhys and Rider stayed close. I knelt, splaying my hands on my legs, and closed my eyes. I didn’t expect to find her so easily, but it was early afternoon, and I could at least get a feel for the land before she came to us.

  I found a harrier and sank deep into its mind so I could cover a greater distance. It was easier with my own hawk, took less focus once I’d gotten familiar with its mind, but that was why I hadn’t brought it. That familiarity allowed me to find it even now, back in the castle. It meant I could still keep an eye on things.

  The forests were a striking green, dark patches among the clearings. The harrier took long, lazy circles and I could see the patches grow larger, taking over the clearings farther south. We weren’t terribly far from the base of the mountain, closer to it than any of Junnie’s own people. It was a disturbing sign.

  For a long time, I saw nothing out of the ordinary, no indication that she’d touched the land. But there was no hint of anyone else, either. And then I saw a dog.

  It wasn’t mangy, in fact its coat was clean and shiny, a fluffy black that appeared to float about it as it ran. It didn’t look as if it’d missed a meal either. I touched its mind briefly and knew. Snickers.

  I came back to myself, shaking my head. They were watching me.

  “She’s there. A league or more, in a copse of blood oak.”

  Anvil glanced at the sky. Would we go now?

  I nodded. If Junnie was behind the attacks, I didn’t want to sit in wait.

  “Do we go in mounted?” Steed asked.

  “Yes. It’s not as if we’ll be able to sneak up on her.” We could be stealthier on foot, but I was confident that by now she knew we were coming.

  On Steed’s command, the horses gathered and in moments the packs were secure and ready. Snickers was still running the field when we approached.

  “Is that...” Grey asked, trailing off as the dog spotted us and advanced, immediately picking up speed.

  I answered a flat, “Yes,” but the question on their faces was plain. How could he have grown so quickly? He was a giant, some terrifying mix of a mastiff and a wolfhound. I tried to work out his age in my head, but no amount of arithmetic could reconcile this
massive beast with that puppy.

  I tore my eyes away long enough to glance at Chevelle, whose expression was wary.

  “Does he plan to eat us?” Anvil asked evenly.

  I managed a laugh. “No, but there will be slobber.”

  Ruby made some sort of disgusted noise and I turned to smile at her. Fairies didn’t like dogs, and this one was bigger than she was.

  We continued riding, though we could see the trees that framed Junnie’s lodge. She’d formed the structure within the copse of blood oak, using the trees as column and canopy. Native ferns and mosses camouflaged it further and with the smattering of rock by the entrance, no one would have easily found her.

  As we neared, she stepped from the trees in all her blonde glory. We stopped as a group and dismounted, and Snickers tested each of us, cold nose snuffling for our scent. Once finished, he chuffed and went to stand beside Junnie.

  “He’s grown quickly,” I commented offhandedly, though all of us knew it was unnatural.

  Junnie smiled and I was struck, as I was each time I saw her, by how different we were. There was a lightness about her, shimmery golden hair, bright sky eyes, everything about her seemed to glow. It was made all the more perceptible by the new colors of her robes. She noticed as I took them in.

  “I am glad you are returned, my Freya.”

  “Thank you, Juniper. I am grateful for all that you have done to help us.”

  Her gaze fell on the others. “Word of the Seven has traveled far. Even here, I have heard of their imposing presence.”

  I wanted to trust Junnie. I wanted to take her endearment and hold it in my heart, keep the last of my family, but I couldn’t stop myself from questioning her words, couldn’t keep from wondering who had told her of the guard, what she’d meant by imposing presence.

  A silence hung in the air and then Anvil stepped forward, bowing slightly in greeting. “Juniper.”

  “Ah, Reed. Forgive me, it is simply such a shock to see Freya restored.” She tilted her head to return his salutation and then smiled. “Alone for mere weeks and I’ve lost all trace of civilization.” But she still didn’t invite us in.

  “Though I am certain Frey has been eager to see you,” Anvil said, clearly struggling with the dictates of etiquette himself, “that is not the reason we have come.”

  Junnie straightened.

  “She has been attacked.”

  Junnie’s eyes flicked to mine, and I could tell she was concerned, but that ugly voice in the back of my mind wondered if she was worried for me or herself. I took a deep breath against the tight lacings of my vest and moved closer. “Twice actually.”

  She stared at me, waiting for more information. Or maybe an accusation.

  “A boy entered the castle through the kitchens. Pulled silver from the air and formed a blade.” I purposefully left off the fact that he’d managed to slice my arm and the details of his coloring. “And then a second, outside the castle. It in the form of an ice shard.”

  “Fey?” she asked, incredulous.

  Ruby spoke up then. “There was a toxin within the crystal. I have been unable to identify its makeup, but it doesn’t appear to be plant-based.”

  I started to turn back to Junnie, but Steed caught my eye. With the smallest glance, he conveyed his suspicion. By the time my eyes fell again on Junnie, I was just as wary. She was troubled, there was no doubt about that. But that wasn’t what was bothering me. Why hasn’t she invited us in? As they continued to discuss the attempts, I let my mind wander, trying to figure out what she could possibly be hiding. She should have wanted this meeting under cover.

  And that was when I felt it. A human.

  Chapter Ten

  Betrayal

  Before I could stop myself, I was past Junnie, pushing through the door. I could hear them all on my heels, but I didn’t look back. I followed that strange feeling, that connection, through her house. Just before I threw open the last door, Junnie spoke my name. It was a cross between a plea and a command, and I ignored it.

  On the back wall of a small, clean room was a crib.

  I did look at her then. Her face held a hint of an apology, but not regret.

  I opened my mouth, a thousand thoughts fighting for issue, but all that came out was, “Why?”

  Junnie shook her head, what might have been sadness playing in her eyes. “I could do nothing else.”

  “You could do nothing else?” Anger and incredulity warred for my tone.

  She sighed. “He chose this one above all others.”

  I stared at her silently for a long moment, her words repeating in my head. And then understanding came. A burst of power escaped in my fury as I turned back for the child.

  “Hold!”

  The words brought me up short, Rhys had never spoke anything but gently to me. This had been nothing short of an order. He stepped forward and tilted his staff past me. Where the grip touched, mere inches from us, the air rippled. There was a ward protecting the crib.

  My teeth gritted as I glared at Junnie.

  She was unrepentant. “I did not create this child, Freya. But she will not be destroyed.”

  My hand came forward, but Junnie was too fast. She stepped through the ward, cradled the babe against her chest, and burst through the back wall of the lodge.

  Rage tore through me and the other walls surrounding us exploded into bits of kindling. My guard flinched, though most of the shards had flown outward. I took a breath. We could go after her, but we’d have to kill her to stop her.

  I glanced at the others, and saw something like guilt on a few faces. I stepped forward, narrowing my gaze on Chevelle.

  “We did not think it an issue.”

  I waited.

  “The girl, Molly. It was clear she wouldn’t survive to term.”

  I stood stock-still, certain if I moved at all, it would be to keel over and dispel the contents of my stomach. I remembered Molly, the days she’d spent with us. She had irritated me inexplicably, though now I could see that it was likely because of my childhood, that constant conviction of my people that humans were detestable. And that we were the same, she and I, as alike as equally as I was to the elves who surrounded me. She hadn’t appeared with child to me. But she had been a human girl, and we had found her with the head of Asher’s guard.

  “You knew?”

  Chevelle shook his head. “Ruby. The girl had gotten exceedingly ill.”

  I glanced at Ruby. She looked a little sheepish. I was finding it hard to breathe, my vest was too tight.

  “No one expected her to make it,” Chevelle continued, “and when Junnie showed up...”

  “You didn’t want us to kill her,” Steed said.

  “Junnie took the girl without request,” Chevelle put in, not sparing a glance for Steed. “But it did seem like an acceptable outcome.” He shook his head. “I never thought she’d allow this.”

  “It was the child,” Anvil said. “She said he chose this one. She will not destroy one who can connect with beasts. She will wait and see.”

  So Junnie thought the child might carry our ability. And those of the light were morally against destroying it. But there was no way to know, she was risking it merely because Asher had believed this one special.

  No.

  My stomach twisted at the thought. “She said above all others.”

  An image of the small bloodied hands came unbidden. The hands of a human girl. The ruined bodies of her and the guard in Asher’s secret grotto near the castle.

  “We believed them all destroyed,” Chevelle assured me.

  No one moved, and I had a sudden flash of memory from when I’d been bound, when they’d all thought at any moment I could lose it.

  “How many?” I asked.

  “It is not known. Council, Junnie, your guard have each dealt with their own.” His voice was gentle, and the “your guard” held a quiet assurance.

  I didn’t stop to ponder the details, to wonder if he and Steed had found more w
hen searching for Asher’s guard. There was something else more pressing.

  “How long has he been doing this?” I searched the faces of my guard, but I had my own answer. He had taken Vita, had created Fannie and my mother, had stolen me.

  “They’re his.” My voice met stony silence. “The others, the attacks. They are his.”

  “They are children,” Anvil said. “They are not working alone.”

  He was right. But who put them up to it?

  We rode straight through the night, and barely rested the remainder of the journey. When we finally reached the castle, I fell into bed exhausted, but sleep still wouldn’t come.

  The attacks had been too odd, silver and ice. Though we’d not seen the source of the ice to be certain it wasn’t fey, we had seen the boy. His features were too light, his eyes too dull. He had pulled silver from the air. He might have been old enough, might have believed he could defeat me, but why? What would he gain from it? It was easier to believe that boy didn’t hate me enough to want to kill me, but that he’d been after the throne.

  Maybe he’d been abandoned. Maybe Asher had made promises and never returned. Maybe he’d merely come for revenge, or because he had nothing left. And maybe not. The more likely scenario was that someone was still out there, pushing the attempts. Someone had told him he was the rightful heir. Someone had told him that I’d killed Asher, that all he needed to do was kill me.

  Was it Junnie? Could she do this to me? Of course she could, she’d turned against council, slaughtered how many of them. She’d had years of experience in underground maneuvers. By all accounts, she had plans to create a new council, she had followers. But would she?

  I found it hard to believe. I wanted to think it was true, that it wasn’t emotion driving the conviction. But I had to look at the facts. Council had nearly destroyed the north. They had used my mother as a pretense in their bid for control. They’d been losing to Asher and they dealt with him. Junnie might have split from council, but she still aimed for control. She might have preferred me on the throne to Asher, but there was no guarantee she didn’t want to rule all. Junnie was a match for me in power, but now I had gained Asher’s as well. It was my only edge, aside from my guard. But she could amass a council larger than any of my forces.