I watched her follow Rhys and Rider from the room, but they were tight-lipped. They seemed to be thoroughly enjoying themselves and I wondered what she’d done to them to merit the torment.
Chevelle and I were all that remained in the study. He stood staring at the pendant on the table.
I watched him. “You think Veil made the offer because he knows of my uncooperative powers.”
He let out a breath before raising his gaze. The emotion in it was crippling. “No. He has always wanted you.” His eyes fell to my lips and my throat went dry.
“You think we should trust him?” I rasped.
A sardonic smile answered my disbelief. “I think he wants you safe.” Chevelle’s templed hand slid across the table, moving closer. “For him.”
I purposefully directed my gaze to the pendant. “Then it’s a warning. But a warning against a fey campaign, or someone else?” The twisted strands of silver and ice caught the flicker of the torchlight, shimmering like the ornament of a fairy, not an elvin lord. “If it is someone else, we need to decipher it. And if it is the fey, then there is no way to stop them from coming for me.” I contemplated the devious, underhanded war tactics of the fey, thought through what would happen, and then remembered what Chevelle had said, thinking aloud. “And he wouldn’t let them have me, would he? If they come he can’t stop them. But he won’t... can’t allow them to have my power. He would take me.”
I felt the change in Chevelle beside me, but I dared not look up. There would be nothing I could do to fight Veil without risking the release of my power, but I had no doubt of Chevelle’s intent.
“I will find control,” I promised. “And we will solve the pendant.”
Regardless of who was trying to kill me, I still had a kingdom to run. So as I worked to catch up and set right all that had gone undone in my absence and awry since my return, I puzzled out the clues. I knew one thing for certain now: the attacks were Asher’s offspring. The boy’s coloring was likely due to a mixed birth. And the fact that the fey were involved made me wonder if the ice attacks were not of a half-fey child. Ruby, after all, had turned out strong and dangerous. Fortunately, she was on my side.
I had mentally crossed the rogues off the list, as the massacre in the yard would have never come to be if they had control of anyone in line for the throne. They were brutal, but they had enough sense to use a tool like that in the most effective way: they would have gathered a following. If it was the fey who had control over an heir, then they were either just playing with me until they could place him or her, or they had more than one and they were trying to thin out the stock, neither of which were highly likely. Still, I couldn’t stop the shiver that ran through me at the thought of a fey-influenced lord on the northern throne. But even if they didn’t have a child or children, then they knew who did, and at the very least were tracking the situation. I had the strands of silver and ice to prove that.
So, that just left two other options that I could think of: Asher and Junnie. Asher had not been gone long. He could have spent years training and molding his children, he could have told each they were his rightful heir, his second, and they could be coming for me because I stood in his place. The attacks had not come together. The silver boy was alone, and he had called me the pretender. But if Asher had done this, if he was the cause, then there was nothing to be done but wait for the others to decide it was time. There was no way to find them, to flush them out.
There was a way to find Junnie, however. And Junnie was, right now, raising a child of Asher’s. A half-human child whose mind she could possess. Junnie had been with me in the village, so she couldn’t have raised the other children. But she could have taken them when Asher was on the run. They were not with her when we had found her, but she had a following by all accounts, and there could be someone supporting her. Someone who wanted the new council, who wanted control of the entire realm. Maybe an army of someones. Maybe a new council had already formed. I shook my head, silently praying once more that it wasn’t Junnie.
I didn’t even consider Grand Council on my list, even though they too had wanted reign over all. Not because their key players had been removed and they were at this moment regrouping, not because they wouldn’t do it if they could. I didn’t consider them because in a matter of days, there would be no more council. I would finally avenge the wrong done my mother. I would repay the debt owed my people. In a matter of days, there would be one less barrier before me, one less cross to bear. Days.
“Frey?”
“Oh, sorry, Ruby. Please continue.”
She glanced at the scrolls, a large pile of messages from across the realm, and I could tell she was calculating how much longer it would take to finish.
“It comes with the uniform, Ruby. The guard has never claimed one who was merely a fighter. If you want to choose the dead, you have to manage the living. It keeps us from turning murderous.”
She cocked a brow at me, knowing full well Asher’s guard had been more deadly than productive. But they had all been given other chores. Not decent, moral duties, I thought, remembering Riven and his charge, but duties nonetheless.
Ruby picked up another scroll. “Alianna Denae of Camber is with child. The child’s father, Klave, was killed by the rogues outside our gates. She is grieving badly and it is feared she’ll not make it to full term.”
Manage the living. “Send her an invitation to the castle. Note that she is to come when the child is well and they will be safe to travel. Maybe we can give her something to look forward to.”
Ruby nodded, pleased that she might yet have something enjoyable to oversee.
“If she takes a turn,” I added in a hushed tone, “assure her the child will have a place here.”
Ruby’s eyes held mine for one long moment before returning to the scrolls. She had been an orphan, abandoned by all but her half-brother Steed. In this single task, I had given her reason enough to serve all others. By this lone thing, she understood. She was of the guard.
Her shoulders straight, she relayed the next message.
Chapter Sixteen
Threat
I sat on the edge of my bed, twirling the fey spike in my hand. Ice, silver, blood, and bone. A gift. The words had begun to circle, twisting in my mind as the strands twisted to form the pendant. I tried to force them away, to see the puzzle from another angle, but they were only replaced with other chants. The dream of my mother, her warning that others would come. And the other warning, words not of a vision, but a living nightmare. Fellon Strago Dreg.
I dropped the pendant on the side table with more than a little hostility and lay back to focus on something that was actually productive. I found my hawk and scanned the grounds, covering the mountain as best I could. No sentry out of place, no strangers with light hair, no ice-wielding half breeds or winged shimmering fey army. I checked for smaller inconsistencies, anything that would indicate a problem. But I found nothing, and after a long while, the search became more of an easy glide and I felt my body back in the bed relaxing with the task.
Chore accomplished, I thought I might be able to finally get some sleep. But just before I pulled from the hawk’s mind, I spotted Steed in the yard. I drifted down, landing on the parapet to watch him prepare for the trip to Camber. His humming stopped the moment my talons touched stone. I smiled, though he would never see it. Wings stretched, I glided past him, not missing the way his shoulders tensed as the bird passed behind his back. He latched the pack tight against his horse, resolutely not looking my way. I swung around to settle on a post opposite him. Stone-faced, he cinched Grey’s pack to the second horse.
I waited him out, certain he couldn’t keep his gaze from finding mine for long. When he at last broke, I held utterly still. And winked. His expression was priceless. With a much-needed laugh, I returned to myself and kicked off my boots to finally get some rest.
It was the last I’d have, because when I woke by the light of dawn, there was someone in my room.
Instinct tore at me to move, but I was trapped. Some unseen force had turned my limbs to lead and I could do nothing but stare up into the face of a fey idol.
Veil held himself above me, bare torso inches from mine, fisted hands on either side of my immobile shoulders. I opened my mouth to curse, but my chest had the same heaviness as the rest of me and my lungs seemed empty of air.
“You should have heeded my warning,” he whispered so quietly I had to strain to hear. “You have disregarded the gift in your eagerness for vengeance.”
I stared up at him, contemplating whether to hear him out or risk using magic. My chest rose and fell unbearably slow beneath him. He glanced down.
Suddenly, as if he realized too late what my reaction to such a gesture would be, he was closer, peering into my eyes as he whispered, “No. Do not tempt me by using your power.” He was so near I could see his pulse hammering, but I didn’t know whether it was fear or excitement. Sometimes with the fey they were one and the same.
He shook his head. “Revenge tastes sweeter with time, my Freya.” His gaze roamed my face, the dark strands of hair across my pillow, the bare flesh of my neck.
I narrowed my eyes at him, and felt the thickness in my throat giving. It wouldn’t be long before I was free of the dust. A few more minutes and I would strangle him. Veil could see the change in me and his mouth turned down in what I would have called a grimace on a less attractive man. His wings flicked once in frustration.
He knew he was out of time. I wondered who stood guard behind my closed door, unable to hear his words, no louder than a breath.
Veil’s warm eyes met mine, the color of honeyed tea in the morning light. But no, darker this near... more like maple sap over stone. I mentally shook myself, trying to work through the drug. It wasn’t the same as Ruby’s blend, but it wasn’t right, either. He waited for me to focus on him again, he wanted my attention.
“If you do this,” he warned, “you will leave me no choice.”
As far as warnings went, this one was pretty clear. I wondered briefly why he’d taken such an un-fey-like action. And then I wondered how he could possibly smell so good. And then I remembered I hated fairies and wondered if I could drive the spiked pendant on the table through his side without risking my magic. The last thought made me smile, which clued both of us in on the fact that I’d regained muscle control.
We reacted at the same time, my head snapping forward to slam into his chin just as he moved back and off the bed. I flipped myself up to land beside the bed, but I wasn’t fully recovered and my legs crumpled beneath me. From nowhere, Veil grabbed my upper arm to steady me. My right fist swung across to strike him in the side. The scuffle had lasted only a fraction of a second, but it was enough. Rhys burst through the door and Veil was gone.
“Find Ruby!” I yelled, my voice weak but anger propelling the command with sufficient force Rhys didn’t stop to question it.
I stared down, panting, body struggling to manage the effects of dust and adrenaline. It seemed like only seconds later when Chevelle showed up, but it must have been longer, because my breathing was steady and I could feel the tingle of my legs and the cold of the stone floor where I sat.
He surveyed the room, searching for any lingering threats, and I knew the instant his gaze found the glitter on the bed.
My head fell into my hands, a very unlordly gesture, and my shoulders shook with silent, frustrated hysteria.
Chevelle was staring down at me. “What did he want?”
“To warn me.” I took a deep breath before attempting to stand. “The fey don’t want us to take out council.”
“Since when do the fey care about elvin politics?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know, but if they know we’re coming, then council does.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Chevelle said. He stepped closer. “Tell me what he said.”
I took another deep breath.
He waited.
“If you do this,” I sighed, “you leave me no choice.”
Chevelle’s fist slammed into the bed post, splintering the wood to pieces.
“It has to mean they have always cared about our affairs,” I said. “But the power was shared before, split between the north and the villages.”
He didn’t respond, staring blankly across the room, through the empty space where the bedpost had been.
“So if we remove the remaining leaders of council,” I continued, “then I alone control the realm.”
Chevelle turned his gaze to me.
“And if I control the realm,” I paused to swallow, throat still thick from dust, “then they will call war. And Veil will take me. If I don’t find a way to manage this power, then I can’t fight him.”
I could see the anger building through Chevelle’s entire body, but I couldn’t prevent myself from finishing.
“I will avenge my mother. I will right the wrong done to all of the north. The fey will not cow me into submission. We will leave at dawn as planned.”
It felt a little like a speech and I should have been ashamed for making it. Chevelle knew exactly what council had done to the north. He knew every single person who’d been slaughtered in the massacre and he knew how it had affected the ones who lived. He didn’t need to be lectured on honor or principle.
His shoulders raised very slowly in an effort to remain steady with each breath. “Vengeance can wait.”
His words tasted far too much like Veil’s warning and the fury of my attack, as I lay helpless in my own bed, went through me. “No,” I hissed. “I will not be controlled.”
I had meant by the fey. I had meant as Asher had commanded us by fear and pain. But it hadn’t come across as such.
“Damn you, Frey.” Chevelle’s voice was pure rage and I almost stepped back from him. As if he sensed it, he stepped forward, daring me.
We stood inches apart, both of us furious, both struggling to retain control, when suddenly Ruby was beside us, frantic.
“Are you hurt? What happened? What did he do to you?”
I shook myself, mind catching up with events. I’d heard a light slapping sound when she’d come in and unconsciously stared down at our bare feet on the stone floor.
“Ruby,” I said levelly, “you have webbed toes.”
She shoved me back into a chair with unnecessary force. “She’s been dusted,” she announced with more than a little irritation, and I laughed. It might have been dust or madness, but it didn’t much matter.
At the exchange, Chevelle seemed to deflate a bit. And then, realizing he had work to do, he walked from the room, leaving me with Rhys and Ruby. That only left Rider to help him search the grounds, so I leaned back in the chair as Ruby fluttered about me making what I hoped was a remedy, and found my hawk. I doubted we’d see anything. Veil had likely come alone, and he had a talent for hiding.
It was no accident he’d come when the others were gone. He’d taken his best chance, and he’d done it. He’d beaten my guard, bested all of us by sneaking into my bed chamber.
The hawk dove through the castle window and rose above the yard, searching. I had an irrational thought that it hated fairies too and wished the dust would let go already.
Ruby was mumbling as she worked, complaining about the fey and their gifts, and I came back, opening my eyes to stare at her. Her gaze was narrowed on the pendant atop the side table. The gift.
“That’s it,” I said.
She jerked, curls bouncing, and then shrugged my outburst off as an effect of the dust.
“No,” I defended. “The gift. She kept saying ‘gift,’ not offering. It isn’t about the pendant. It’s about the boy. The silver boy.”
Ruby stared blankly at me while she decided whether the dust was babbling or if she should be attempting to decipher my words.
I pointed to the pendant. “Four strands. They fey call them ‘gifts’, not talents or abilities. Silver and ice. That leaves two more. Blood and bone. He’s got four children remainin
g.” I shook my head. “No, three now. We killed the boy.”
Understanding washed over her. Her mouth came open, brows raised, then her face fell. She was speechless.
“Ruby,” I snapped, “give me that tea and go figure out what the devil blood and bone means.”
She barked a laugh. “It isn’t tea.” She shrugged at the question in my expression. “Veil doesn’t work that way. It’s more of a... skin rinse.”
I opened my mouth to reply just as Ruby closed one eye in a wince and turned her cheek to me. Warm, cloudy liquid splashed into my face. Instantly, the effects of the drug cleared, but were replaced with utter shock at her action. She dropped the cup, putting both hands up in surrender as she backed from the room.
“It had to be done,” she promised.
I was still staring at the open door when Rhys finally laughed.
Chapter Seventeen
Breaking
Finn and Keaton had still not returned. Ruby and I sat in the study with Rhys and Rider poring over fey scrolls and books. I’d been able to find a few notes hidden in Asher’s private study, but it didn’t look as if we were going to find anything useful. Anvil was due back by evening, as were Steed and Grey, so we held a sliver of hope they would be able to offer some help. I hadn’t seen Chevelle all day.
Ruby slammed a book shut in frustration. “Even if we find the answer, even if we know this kid’s ‘gift,’ it still doesn’t solve the problem.”
We all stopped working to give her our full attention, though I had a feeling we were just looking for a break.
“If we don’t know who’s pushing them to attack Frey, then we don’t know how to find them. If we find one, or even two, we still have to find the others. We still have to discover who’s plotting against us.”
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