My sister hasn’t spoken to me since our mother passed. I wish she was… different. Not merely a different personality, but different altogether. I can remember the stories in my mother’s journal about her own sister. They were so close. That was, of course, until my father. But I suppose my sister might be different as well, if not for him. He’s taking a journey, they tell me. He’ll be gone a long time. I’ll be here alone, except for Rune. He’s to continue my practice.
Chevelle approached during his pacing and I slid the book into my pack, pretending to examine the beading on the material of the dress. This seemed to disturb him. He avoided pacing near me the rest of the evening, throwing me odd glances now and again. I shrugged it off and went back to reading.
Father has been gone for weeks. Rumor is he’s searching for a new mate. Someone unique, someone powerful, I’m sure. I can’t stand it anymore. He thinks I’ll sit here and exhaust myself practicing while he’s out running around. All the servants are gossiping and I know nothing.
I have had it. Mother’s room remains sealed, but I was able to obtain some of her things from Father’s study. I am only to use them under Rune’s supervision, so I took the books out and returned to my room with them in secret last night. I have scoured through them and though I don’t know all the words of the spell exactly, I think I’ve found a way to escape. I’ll have to practice on a servant first.
Practice on a servant. That brought back something Ruby had said. Chevelle would have to practice the unbinding spell on someone else first. Would he use one of our group? And if the spell went wrong?
I tested the spell on Rain last night. I’m not sure what went amiss, but she convulsed for hours before she fell into a sleep. She finally rose late this morning, but she couldn’t remember who she was and she kept scratching at her face until it bled. At least she’ll not be able to tell anyone I did it. I’ll have to catch another servant tonight.
No, I had a feeling he’d not be using one of our group. I was starting to get sleepy, but didn’t want to put the book down.
This one worked. Dree’s nose bled for the first few minutes but after that she slept soundly and woke just before noon not knowing she had missed anything. Tomorrow, I try it on my watcher.
Watcher. I fell asleep with her words in my thoughts. My imagination had filled in all the blanks, let the fear I’d been suppressing creep in, take over. It turned her words into my nightmares. Watchers and trackers, tassels and robes, Chevelle’s furious gaze as he pushed me from the cliff again. Chevelle. My watcher.
“Frey.” Ruby woke me at dawn, urging me to stand for a few moments before we were back on the horses.
I was exhausted again, so I hung back from the group as we rode. Steed slowed to ride with me as I watched Ruby and Grey banter ahead. “Steed, why aren’t they together?”
He sighed; I didn’t think he enjoyed discussing his sister’s personal life. “Ruby. She doesn’t believe she can get close to anyone… that way.”
I considered the way she was with me, as if she wanted us to be friends, the way she touched Steed, sat near him. “Why?”
“Past experiences.”
Yes, she’d killed her mother. And how many others? What had she said, until a pattern became noticeable? I shivered at the thought. “Poison.”
He nodded in silent acknowledgement.
“In the village, some of the elves never paired up.” I thought of Junnie’s family. “But I guess most of those had received the calling.”
Grey scoffed ahead of us.
I hadn’t realized he could hear us. I was embarrassed, but couldn’t stop myself. “What?”
His horse slowed to fall in with ours as he spoke. “The calling?” I didn’t understand. It had been a thing of honor, but he spoke of it as if it were a joke. “Do you really believe such nonsense?”
“What nonsense? It isn’t real?”
He let out a harsh laugh and I jerked back. “Oh, I suppose it’s real. The service is real. Honestly, Freya, don’t you see?”
“See what?” I cursed my bound brain.
“Grand Council.”
I drew a sharp breath at the words.
“The calling is simply service to Grand Council. A hundred years of servitude under the guise of duty and honor. What is honorable about doing their bidding?”
“So you don’t… answer the call?” I stumbled, searching for words.
His laughter was a roar. “No. We do not answer.” It settled and he added, “They do not call.” At that, Steed joined in, chuckling.
It didn’t make sense. I knew I had been assigned a watcher. From the North. “No one?” I asked.
“No. Council does not attempt to rule the North.”
I considered that, considered my watcher. He was a volunteer. I seethed for a moment, but flashes of my mother and council cloaks flooded my thoughts and I had to block them.
“So the North… has no council at all?”
His answer was uncomfortable. “No. No council.” He paused while he formed the rest of his reply. Steed watched him, intent. “We are… unruled.”
“Unruly,” Steed added with a laugh.
“You’ve never had a council?”
Grey shook his head.
“No rulers?”
He gave Steed a sidelong glance. “Not anymore.” I could tell he intended to end the conversation with that but it only made me more curious.
I was tired of always having to make everyone spell things out for me. “No council ever. No rulers… anymore? So what then?” Steed flinched at my tone, but didn’t answer.
“Frey,” Chevelle called from the front of the line. I glared at him. “Time to resume your training.”
They had me work with Anvil, trying to anticipate when he was preparing to send a small current of electricity toward me. Which meant I spent the day getting shocked. I was grateful when we finally stopped to make camp.
I was afraid they would resume training after dinner, so I found a place off by myself and pretended to rest as I went back to reading the diary.
Today was exhilarating. For the first time in I don’t know how long, I was out of the castle. Free from practice, free from duties, free from walls.
Though tricky to set up, the spell worked on Rune. I showed up at practice early and whispered the words in case something went wrong and he heard. I can’t imagine what my punishment would have been, though it might have been worth it. He fell asleep quickly and I ran as fast as I could, my pulse pounding with excitement.
I spent the entire day away from the castle. Without the drain of practice, I was thrilling with energy. I could feel the trees, the mountain. I hope Father never comes back! I am sure I will try again tomorrow and every day I can spare after that.
Rune was completely unaware of any foul play yesterday, so I had full confidence in the spell this morning. Not that I wouldn’t have attempted it again anyway, but at least I know I’m safer now. No worries when I’m out of the castle.
My sister is out every day but I can never seem to find her. She keeps bringing back the strangest treasures. I have run for two days now. I think tomorrow I will follow her. She refuses to tell me where she goes, neither under threat nor for a bribe, so I’ll have to use stealth.
Today was brilliant. I left a sleeping Rune just in time to find my sister sneaking from the castle. I followed her all the way to her secret spot. It took us half the day to get there, but it was worth it. It’s so far away from any kind of traffic, I have no idea how she even discovered it.
Nestled in a patch of trees outside the forest was some sort of camp. I watched her at first. She scoured the area searching through the things she found there. But I couldn’t observe for long. I revealed myself and inquired about her previous finds and all the questions that were plaguing me. She was furious! She screamed and cursed and fumed. She was no help with my queries so I was forced to look around myself.
Whatever had been there lived a little like the imps. And ther
e were imp tracks there, but it appeared only one. A massive numbers of bowls and jars littered the camp. I have no idea who would need so many. The fairies like containers, but not of this crude sort—the craftsmanship was almost that of a troll. I tried to stay on the opposite side of the camp from my sister’s wrath, but I found tracks and had to follow them near her, stirring up another fit of rage. The prints were shoed, about the size of elves, but the treads were irregular. Whatever stayed here, there were a lot of them.
Near the center of the camp the ground was beat down with tracks, circling a ring of stones. I found remnants inside, and ashes. A crude fire pit. Around that, several feet out, were various logs, I assumed for sitting around the pit for warmth. A few huts were situated about the camp but their construction was unlike anything I’d seen before, very poorly built. I ducked inside one and was shocked to see it was full of possessions. Clothing, bedding, so much left behind. I had thought they’d departed suddenly, but I was confident then that it was not of their choosing.
I went back outside and examined the tracks again. I followed the imp’s this time and found my answer. Outside of the camp, I uncovered blood and drag marks. The imp had killed what appeared to be three of the camp’s inhabitants and dragged them off, likely by stringer and tow. Whatever was there had run away because of the attack, and recently.
I questioned my sister again—she’d had some time to cool down—but she was no help. I immediately knew she had not even considered that whatever she had been so interested in was still out here, probably close. I didn’t clue her in. After a little more time there, I acted as if I’d lost interest and headed home.
Tomorrow, I will follow the tracks. I will find whoever was there and solve the mystery of their rudimentary tools and strange huts.
I yawned. After a quick glance around, I slid the book back into my pack. I rolled over and fell asleep listening to Ruby’s quiet tune.
The next morning, the group seemed in unusually high spirits. I had no idea why the mood had shifted, but I enjoyed the laughter and joking anyway.
We rode past a waterfall, the roar of water making me curious. I figured Ruby was my best bet. Chevelle gave me no answers and though hers were sometimes cryptic, I knew she’d been reading books on magic. “Ruby, is there a way to harness the power of things… like that waterfall?”
Grey glanced at me. The look of concern for my intelligence was not exactly uncommon, but it was something I could never quite get used to.
“Not that I know of,” she said. She got her mischievous grin then. “Though I did read once that there was a way to steal life force and use it for yourself.”
Chevelle shot her a stern rebuke from the front of the pack.
She continued as if excusing herself, “But it was merely a fairy’s tale and probably not entirely accurate.” Then, in a lower voice, “It is fun to speculate, though.”
I wiped at my cheek to clear the dampness from the mist, mirroring her low tone as I questioned her. “How would you steal life force?”
“Well, like I said, probably not accurate… but you would have to take the other’s life in order to gain their power. Take it in a specific manner.” She noticed Chevelle glaring at her and clamped her mouth shut.
I waited until he turned back around before I whispered, “Ruby, did you bring the magic book with you?”
She smiled.
“Can I read it?”
She winked at me.
I started to share her grin, but before I could, Chevelle was in front of us, his horse blocking my way. I was almost thrown from my saddle when we stopped to avoid running into him. He was angry again. “Frey.”
“What?”
“Do you remember the last time you used a spell?”
I recalled the smell of burning flesh as the maps cut into my palms. “Yes,” I muttered, defeated.
The look he gave Ruby was clear. There would be no magic study for me.
But I did know she had it. Maybe I’ll be able to steal it…
Lost in thought, I began to fall behind the group. The higher we rose up the mountain, the more treacherous the jagged rock became. I felt every step, holding tight as the horse’s hooves slipped and jumped. The haze thickened, keeping the view both ahead and behind close. It gathered in my hair, leaving it a matted mess with the single braid—Ruby’s handiwork—dripping condensation over the shoulder of my cloak.
I decided to practice as we rode, closing my eyes to sink partially into my horse, still alert to my own self and the outside world.
It was there, leading my horse and seeing through his eyes, that the pain struck. It came on instantaneously, hitting me like a blade, cutting, shearing. It was accompanied by sharpness of sound as well. My ears were in excruciating pain. The horse dropped, his head smacked to the ground and I watched through his eyes as he hit. The animal’s senses stilled, not panicked as my own. I didn’t understand what was happening, couldn’t quite form a thought.
I yearned to retreat into the horse, run from the agony, but the severity of it tore me back and kept me there in my own head. It felt and sounded like metal bands inside my mind, inside my ears, screeching. I hadn’t opened my eyes again and now I couldn’t. I couldn’t find my body; I wanted to bring my hands to my head, cover my ears. But I couldn’t feel anything aside from the pain in my mind.
I focused all of my energy on finding some feeling somewhere and finally, though the terror was unrelenting, I felt my body again, knew it was there. It still didn’t respond, but I knew I hadn’t fallen with the horse. Something had caught me. Not the ground, not a rock. Someone was carrying me. The horror must have stretched time, making the few seconds seem like minutes.
I struggled to bring myself back. I could hear nothing but a piercing squall. I willed my eyes open, though only a fraction. I was looking at the back of a horse from my position slung over someone’s shoulder. My eyes closed once more as the pain doubled and I lost my body for a moment. I concentrated until I got it back and then realized I was bouncing. I worked my eyes again, using every ounce of control I had left. I was on a horse, running. Not my own. Chevelle was holding me in front of him, my body limp and useless. I fought to focus on more but was overtaken by pain. We were running away?
I could control nothing but my mind, and that just barely. As my eyes closed again, I reached out and found my horse as he lay motionless on the ground, my Steed. He wasn’t dead. I asked him to stand and tried to impress upon him to follow. I hoped it had worked as I faded into blackness.
Fortress
My mind regained consciousness very slowly. I was hit with blurry images first, sights and scenes that melded into hazy dreams. Eventually they became clearer, though they didn’t make much sense. After a time it occurred to me the problem was the images were mixing with the wrong sounds… real sounds. Panicked sounds.
I thought I recognized Chevelle’s voice and tried to focus on it, to understand the agony. “Frey,” he said, and something brushed my cheek, warm and feather light.
The distant impression that it might have been the brush of lips had me drawing in a sharp breath, and I coughed, gasping to fill my lungs. The air shifted as those surrounding me moved in response. I forced my eyes open and found Ruby, Steed, and Chevelle. They looked for a moment as if they were suffering my pain… and then I realized the pain was gone, the siren was silenced. My breathing steadied, the fear abating, and their faces relaxed. Relief washed their expressions, but their postures remained stiff, alert. I pushed up to find the source of the danger and dizziness incapacitated me.
They rushed to kneel beside me and I could see that was how they had been before my gasp had moved them to standing. My throat was too raw to speak, so Chevelle gave me a canteen. I would have taken anything, but I was glad it was water, not hot wine or that foul-tasting elixir.
“What happened?” I finally choked out, but they were tight-lipped.
“How do you feel?” Chevelle asked. His tone was off, a little s
haky. I couldn’t tell if he was cross or something else. There was something so familiar about him, the way he leaned over me, but my thoughts weren’t working right yet.
I tried to clear my head before answering. “I don’t know.” It was the best I could do.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
He glanced at my hands, wrapped tightly around the neck of the container, and then back at me. “Do you know who I am?”
Something about that was funny and I laughed, but it came out hoarse.
He looked torn as he posed the next question, tentative. “Can you tell me your name?”
I wondered how bad I was messed up for him to approach me with this line of questioning. “Frey.”
“Your full name?”
I rolled my eyes, and then wished I hadn’t as the room spun. I pressed a hand to my temple, reciting, “Elfreda Georgiana Suzetta Glaforia.”
They all drew in a deep breath.
“What?”
Chevelle’s sigh seemed to have let the air out of him. His fingers rested on the edge of the cloak beneath me. “Are you in pain?”
“No. Not anymore.”
He nodded. “What do you remember?”
“I was—” I faltered. I didn’t know why, but I felt protective of this secret. I didn’t want to tell anyone I was in my horse’s mind. I started again, aware of my annoyed tone. “I don’t know. I was just following you guys and then wham!” That pretty much summed it up. “Just pain and screeching.”
[2018] Reign of Queens Page 47