The Frey Saga Book IV Read online

  Venom and Steel

  Melissa Wright

  Copyright © 2017 by Melissa Wright

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Smashwords Edition.

  Cover art by Gene Mollica Studio, LLC.

  Created with Vellum

  For Mom and Dad

  Contents

  Prologue

  1. Frey

  2. Frey

  3. Frey

  4. Frey

  5. Frey

  6. The Changeling

  7. Frey

  8. Thea

  9. Ruby

  10. Frey

  11. Veil

  12. Frey

  13. Frey

  14. Frey

  15. Chevelle

  16. Ruby

  17. Steed

  18. Thea

  19. Chevelle

  20. Frey

  21. Liana

  22. Frey

  23. Thea

  24. Frey

  25. Ruby

  26. Steed

  27. Frey

  28. Chevelle

  29. Frey

  30. Chevelle

  31. Frey

  32. Frey

  33. Frey

  34. Frey

  Epilogue

  Also by Melissa Wright

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Prologue

  The Changeling

  * * *

  In a three-room shack deep within the easternmost valleys slept a human babe. Its swaddling gown was thin, threadbare and second-hand, the color dull with age. To the young blue fey, the babe smelled like meat.

  Fira giggled, tiptoeing across the uneven plank floor, and Fedrine, half again her size, pushed the fairy and hissed a warning to be silent. It was too rough; the smaller fairy rolled forward in her stumble, crashing awkwardly—noisily—into the makeshift crib. The babe screamed, jolted to waking, and Fira covered her own ears as she cowered below.

  Footsteps sounded in the main room.

  Fedrine grabbed the swaddled child and tossed it—bundle and all—out the window. As it landed in the tall grass, Fira cried out in protest, her tiny hands gesturing through the air. Fedrine’s eyes narrowed on the other fey, their depthless black inspiring both a spike of fear and the thrill of the hunt. He motioned toward the naked bedding.

  Fira smiled, and then crawled into the youngling’s crib.

  When the humans entered their firstborn child’s bedroom, it was not the slender form of Fedrine they saw. The changeling fey had shifted, his skin going pale, the fur lining his neck curling into long chestnut locks, kissed by the sun. His thin lips were softened and curved, color dotting his cheeks. The only thing unchanged in him was the endless chasm of his eyes. His head tilted down, hand snaking slowly over the soft lumps of what appeared to be their unharmed babe in its bed. It would look to the humans like a blessing, some angel of mercy come to show favor upon their child.

  The human woman fell to her knees, shaking as her work-calloused palms covered her mouth. “Heavens,” she whispered through her fingers, bony and underfed as they were. “Heavens exalt us with this gift.”

  It was clear she was waiting for some response, but Fedrine did not speak. The changelings had no words.

  The changelings had teeth.

  1

  Frey

  Three seasons. Three seasons since our return to the castle. Three seasons of peace and rightness since the fey had last breached these walls.

  It figured.

  “Where are they?” I demanded, grabbing my scabbard from the high table near the bedroom door.

  Grey’s dagger was already in his hand, sticky with blood. “The east hall.”

  I cursed. We had barely finished renovations from their last late-night visit. “And Ruby?”

  Grey took a breath but didn’t answer. I hesitated, chest clenched until his eyes met mine with a flicker of unidentifiable emotion. “I don’t know,” he said.

  And then we were running. Corridor after corridor until we met the massive, open chamber that was the east hall.

  The walls were covered in fire. Stone burned with an unnatural green flame, popping and crackling while pale-skinned fey danced beneath its glow. There were seventeen of them: six parading across the uneven ledge where a window had once been, three tangled in a violent argument that hovered over the far corner, and the rest on foot before the slender few who were present of my guard.

  I took stock of my guard, the seven whose duty was to protect me, to stand at my side during a fight. Chevelle and Rider had been gathering sentries south of the mountain and weren’t expected back until midday. Steed and Rhys were here, parrying attacks from several frost monsters near the opposite wall while Grey and I fought our way to reach them.

  Anvil and Ruby were nowhere in sight.

  This small gathering of lesser fey was not what had me concerned. It was nearing dawn, and I knew what was to come. “Clear the hall,” I screamed, “or so help me I will break the treaty and scatter your pieces.”

  A roar of cackling laughter rolled through the open chamber. These creatures were here for blood. My threats meant nothing. I wondered only briefly if they’d already secured some, if the guards on the outer walls had paid that price. It would be enough reason to end them now. But there was more to come.

  Another visitor, one who could not be so easily dispatched. We needed to secure Ruby.

  “Find her,” I told Steed and Rhys. “Whatever you do, don’t let them take her.”

  Their looks said they wanted to argue, but our number in this hall would not change the outcome. Veil would be here soon, and his only interest was me. I made it an order. “Now.”

  Steed drew a breath, purposefully catching my eye before he followed in Rhys’s footsteps. Something had happened. There was more they were not telling me.

  Because we didn’t have time.

  Orange streaked the skyline, the strange glint of firelight making it seem unreal. We had minutes, maybe. There was nothing I could do. I glanced at Grey, wishing I could in some way use my power, connect to his magic the way I had to Chevelle’s to keep the fey from manipulating it. “Where are the wolves?”

  He returned my gaze, giving the smallest shake of his head; he didn’t know.

  The fey had been waiting for this.

  “They want me alone,” I said.

  Grey shifted closer. A thin, pale frost monster narrowed his focus on Grey’s weapon.

  “If they move in,” I whispered, “spare no one.” It wasn’t a secret. The fey were addicted to secrets. It was a warning, one I knew they would hear. One I needed them to understand.

  The frost monster licked his ashen lips.

  There was a crash in the hallway, followed by the clang and peal of metal. The sentries were dealing with their own nuisance, but they’d been warned to leave the high fey to my personal guard. The fey we were about to face here would be too dangerous.

  A hiss of whispers rose through the eastern hall, their anticipation of the rising sun too much to contain. It gathered steam, pitching into riotous excitement. My palms went slick, shifting over the grip of my sword as the sun’s first rays flashed across the horizon.

  “He’s here.”

  The voice echoed from behind me and I spun, sword meeting the slip of cloth covering a high fey’s delicate pink skin. The silk fell and the fey’s tongue darted out, tasting the air. It was changeling named Liana, and although she’d spent a fair share of her time in the elven
lands, I could not fathom why she’d risked taking this particular moment to appear in the castle. Her flesh flickered briefly before the color blended into the same cool steel-gray of my sword.

  “What are you doing here?” I said levelly.

  Her mouth twisted into a cunning smile. “Protecting my investments.”

  The chatter rose behind me, and I knew we’d not much time. Liana blinked. “What do you want?” I asked.

  She nodded, pleased by my willingness to listen. I could feel the weight of Grey behind me, protecting my back from the other fey. Though the morning air was cool, their fires had made the overfilled room stifling. Liana ran a clawed finger over her bare middle, exposed by the cut of my sword. “It is a trap,” she offered. “Do not spill the blood of the high fey.”

  “How is it baited?” I asked.

  Her eyes rose to the ceiling, as if I were always asking the wrong questions. I gritted my teeth. “Why do they bait me?”

  Her gaze hit mine again, the firelight flickering against an otherworldly black, like a newborn kitten. One that might swallow you whole. “There,” she said, “lies your answer.”

  There was a sudden change in pitch to the tension beyond us and Liana’s head cocked to the side, the movement too swift. Her slender ears tipped toward the corridor and she said, “You are in need of my assistance. I shall return to you soon.”

  She dropped the tattered silks covering her, her silvery flesh darkening to the color of stone. She was gone from the hall in an instant, but she’d given me what she’d come for. It was a warning, and the fey didn’t offer them twice. I glanced over my shoulder, the golden glow of the fey god’s wings already in view. He’d not come alone. Seven and twenty dark-winged shadow stalkers lined the broken wall of the eastern hall. The flame boiled down to nothing, thin trails of smoke dissipating to reveal the blackened stone. Flora and Virtue were not among Veil’s court, and I wondered what task would be more important than this, than visiting the elven high lord.

  I straightened, sheathing my sword to turn to the crowd. Veil’s eyes were pinched at the corners, and I was sure he was trying to sense who’d been there only moments before. I showed him my teeth.

  He straightened, coming to his full height as his feet touched the ground, and I was grateful, at least, that I’d not have to witness his usual display. His wing flicked.

  “What is your purpose here?” I said, gesturing toward the army of high fey at his back. “Our custom is to kill those who break in uninvited.”

  He ran a hand across the bronzed skin of his long, muscled abdomen. I did not let my eyes follow it. “My dearest Freya,” he crooned, “why must you meet my calls with such venom and steel?”

  The rising sun through the tips of his wings was glittering crystal, but his face was not so shaded that I couldn’t see the warm amber of his eyes. I crossed my arms, all too aware of how easy it would be to blast him with an overwhelming surge of power. “You destroy my home and bring your legions, and then plead for hospitality?”

  He stepped forward, voice low. “Be careful of your words, lovely, or I may show you what it is to truly beg.”

  My hand tightened on my sword hilt.

  Veil smiled. His palm turned upward genially, encompassing the twenty-seven at his back. “Legions they are not. But I do let them handle a bit of the drudgery of late; I tire of the paltry collection of opponents.” His head came down, watching me from beneath a lowered brow. “There are much more interesting challenges worthy of my time.”

  Some part of me wanted to curse him, to spit, I am bound. Chevelle was tied to me, not only through our power, but to our very cores. It was intimate, intrinsic to who we were, a bond that could not be broken. But pointing that out would only put Chevelle’s life in danger, make him a target for any fey who wanted to win their lord’s favor. And Veil knew that by now.

  “My time is worth something as well,” I said. “Now get on with your business and take your shields along when you go.”

  His jaw tightened at the implication that he needed protection, the tiniest shift in the muscle between it and his tall, narrow ear. I’d been so near that spot not so long ago, could still remember the scent of him, how he’d perched above me while my limbs lay numb, incapacitated by his poison. My muscles tensed at the memory now, wanting to repay him the offense.

  We stared at each other for a long moment.

  Veil’s shoulders relaxed as he turned to pace the room. A length and a half across the smooth stone floor and the motion became a slow strut; he was coming back to his usual mood. Grey shifted beside me and I nearly jumped. It was so easy to forget everything else when Veil was in the room.

  I cleared my throat.

  Veil turned to me, wings folding along his back as he placed a palm against his bare chest. “Forgive me, young Freya, perhaps I should return when you are not so indisposed.”

  I leaned forward, fingers curling into the grip of my sword once more. “I would think not.”

  “Well then,” he said, “perhaps a bargain.” He resumed his strut, the movement bringing him closer to where Grey and I stood.

  “You know the old saying,” I offered. “‘Never trust a fey who still draws breath.’”

  His head tilted toward me, eyes gleaming with humor. His hand slid free of his chest. “Yes.” He chuckled. “Most certainly true.” He stepped nearer, all shadows disappearing from his face. “But I was thinking more along the lines of a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

  “We have been at peace,” I answered. “There is nothing I need to gain.”

  His mouth turned down, some imitation of sadness. I doubted Veil had ever known true grief. It wasn’t in his nature to care about someone on a personal level. They were prizes to be won. “You may not realize it now, but there is much you will need.”

  Liana’s words echoed in my head. You are in need of my assistance. My voice turned to ice. I hated not knowing. I hated their games. “Is that a threat?”

  He reached forward, running a finger across the pommel of my sword. “I would never harm you, my Freya. But there are those who would.”

  Do not spill the blood of the high fey. I swallowed hard, and Veil’s eyes traced the movement along my throat. I felt bare, despite the long shirt and pants. I was going to have to start sleeping in my armor.

  “Things have been set into motion,” he whispered. “Things that will disrupt the happy understanding between you and I.”

  “My understanding is that you and your kind are to stay beyond the boundary of the outer rivers. There is no call to be on our lands.”

  His finger rose from its place on my sword, flicking mesmerizingly before my face. “Land is not a thing to be owned, dearling. We stay in the forests because it is where our blood calls us to roam.”

  “And our blood is here,” I spat. “Beneath this palace of stone.” He closed his eyes, chagrin at the mention of the first fey war. But I went on. “Your people threw off the balance, and the ancients struck the accord that allowed them to live.”

  His army of shadow stalkers waited motionlessly behind him, showing no hint of concern for what occurred. The lesser fey watched in rapt attention, hands clasped and quivering with pent delight. Veil sighed. “So long ago. And yet it still rings in my ears every time I cross to this barren land.”

  “Death cannot be undone.”

  He stared at me. “No, it cannot.” His hand waited between us, as if he might attempt to touch my skin, and I would have to decide whether to slice it free of his arm or risk the insult. But he didn’t. Instead, he leaned close, murmuring into the air beside my ear. “I could have won you once, collected your heart as well as your gifts.” He pulled back so that his gaze could fall across my flesh, and finished, “But now it seems I will have to wait until you yield.”

  He straightened, flicking his wings out full sweep, voice suddenly level. “You know where to find me.”

  Once Veil had cleared the broken wall, I glanced sidelong at Grey, now s
prinkled with golden shimmer.

  “Charming,” he said.

  I laughed because we had an audience, but couldn’t decipher why the hall was still lined with the twenty-seven dark-winged guards. One of the winter sprites grinned.

  “Grey,” I said, “probably best we heed Liana’s advice.”

  He nodded, but his foot slid outward, as if preparing to fight.

  We were the only two surprised when the scream echoed through the hall.

  2

  Frey

  It wasn’t a scream of pain as much as a cry of victory. It was that of an excruciating kind of success, when it felt as though death was closer than winning and it took everything you had to pull it off. It was a skin-of-your teeth cry, one that meant the high fey had just claimed a significant prize.

  Ruby, I thought, chest clenched tight as I ran. I could feel Grey staying behind me, but it wasn’t because I was faster than him, it was so he could protect us from the threat of the shadow stalkers we’d left behind.

  Shouts rang through the corridor, leading me closer to some unknown disturbance. I tightened my hold on the power within me, knowing what it would cost if I made a mistake.

  It wasn’t Liana’s warning I was worried about. It was that the fey could steal this strength I could barely control. Asher’s death had gained me not only this crown, but a power too large to wield. In the time since, I’d wanted to secure our rule. I had insisted Chevelle go on about his duties, but without him here to ground me, to stabilize and anchor the overwhelming energy when I used it, there was no way to prevent one of the stronger fey—a power like Veil, who might be able to pull it from me for his own gain—trying just that.