The Frey Saga Book VI Page 7

  I let out a breathless laugh as the others took cover, their hands over their heads and knees bent. I let my head tilt back to follow its progress, and the beast turned hard before the castle walls, driving up as it went sideways, exposing its belly where I suspected Chevelle was standing. I let it swing wide around the mountain before bringing it near in a slow circle again. My feet were moving, following their path to the castle, to the keep.

  I had to stop to close my eyes when the dragon neared its perch, to direct it in without seeing through my own eyes instead. When I did, I was startled by how massive he seemed inside the keep that I’d inspected only days before. The beast settled between the towering wide stone columns that were like windows overlooking the mountain below. I bade him to stay while I made my way up the castle steps and had to bite down my grin at the soldiers and sentries who stood in the courtyards and pathways, still and staring skyward.

  It was a long walk from the path where we’d met the others and the height of the keep, but the dragon waited, satisfied with my command. It was not what I expected, and I wondered if the same would hold true when he was well rested and not worn down by the journey they’d just put him through.

  I came through the stone doorway slowly, watching the beast’s massive form rise and fall in the steady rhythm of his breath. He was watching me, but in the shadows, he was so unlike the beast we’d met below. In the dark of night, he would be darker still, his scales only reflecting the glint of moon or torchlight and nothing else. He would be a lethal hunter, even without his deadly fire. But he did have that, and as I stepped closer, I smelled the sulfur of it and felt the strange sense of electricity in the air, which reminded me of the way it felt after Anvil used his talent.

  I remembered the talk of dragons from when I was a child, stories of how they would roll on the ground, scratching their backs and necks against the nearest rock, avalanching stone down the mountainside or snapping off trees that were too spare to hold the weight. When I had traveled with Asher, I’d seen patches of scorched earth and heard tales of animals that had been taken and homes that had been crushed. They were not cruel animals. It was just that they were so large and hungry.

  “There,” I murmured to the beast. “We’ve no interest in causing you pain. I only want to feel your magic and to understand why the fey have sent you away.”

  The dragon stared watchfully back at me. He’d no idea what I was saying, but his gaze belied that fact. I moved closer, willing him to remain still. Part of me wanted to glance over my shoulder to be certain no one was watching—Chevelle would have my head if he witnessed what I was about to do. I half smiled at the thought, but it fell away with a breath when I took another step and felt the heat of the dragon’s exhalation.

  I reached a hand out slowly and steadily and stared up into the eyes of the massive beast. Even with his snout nearly touching the stone floor of the keep, his head still towered over me. A large tooth jutted over his lip, and a nervous chill went through me. I eased closer, placing my palm flat onto the warm, dry scales of his snout. He let me, because I had hold of him, but a purr and the chuff of warm air came from his nostrils as he regarded me.

  “Yes,” I whispered. “The worst of it is over. We’ll do you no harm.”

  The dragon’s inner lid scraped horizontally across his eye as he watched me. It was a long moment before his massive head finally shifted as he moved to rest it on one of his massive forelegs. His claws slid across the stone floor, his gaze still distrustful.

  It would take time. I knew that. I only hoped time was something we had.

  In the dining hall, Merek regaled Junnie, Ivy, and Aster with tales of the dragon’s capture as Anvil and Thea looked on. Barris sat at the end of the table, his freshly bandaged arm resting tightly against his side as Willa curled fire over a short blade again and again, apparently attempting to teach him a new skill. They didn’t seem to notice my entry, and when Merek proclaimed that he had single-handedly scaled the dragon’s back to secure the creature’s neck, Thea rolled her eyes and shook her head.

  There were fresh stitches down Anvil’s forearm and a bright-pink burn peeking out of Merek’s collar. I hoped it was worth it. I hoped the risk I forced them to undertake would gain us ground.

  I glanced up to find Chevelle by the far wall, watching me. From his expression, I could only assume he saw my guilt and doubt. I straightened, taking a long breath before walking to the table.

  Merek fell silent, his boisterous tale going flat at either my apparent mood or my station.

  “Junnie,” I said. “Will you be staying on? I’d like to share what information we’re able to gather with you.”

  Her mouth turned down. “I would greatly appreciate that, but I’m afraid you’ll have to send a missive. There are a few leads I need to follow up on before they run cold.” She gave me a soft smile. “It is the summer festival, after all. I hear this one is going to be quite a show.”

  “Quite,” I said, thinking of how Veil and the attending fey might have responded to my well-timed gift.

  “I’ve left what information I could with Rhys and Rider, and I will return as soon as time permits.”

  “Thank you,” I told her. “May your pursuit be successful.” Her expression said she had every intention of it, and I added, “Please let me know if there is any way we can assist.”

  Junnie stood to take my hands in hers, squeezing them lightly. “Thank you, my Freya. And may your own task be undertaken well.” When she released her grip, she said, “I can check in on Ruby before I go.”

  “Please.” I’d been eager to have someone who had seen her condition from the start look in on her, and with Thea gone, I’d had to trust in other healers and the changeling Liana. It did not sit well with me.

  I hesitated before walking her to Ruby’s rooms, glancing at the others who’d risked so much. I would reward each of them, but not there. Willa would receive a higher charge. I would have Chevelle do it—the honor would mean more to her coming from him. And Merek was in need of nothing, but we could present him with a horse finer than he could ever trade for, as well as new armor. The others would be harder, but it would be done. I gave them a nod then cast a parting look at Chevelle before walking out with Junnie, Aster, and Ivy on our heels.

  In the corridor, Junnie instructed the women to wait with the horses, and I gave a command to a sentry to gather supplies for them. Junnie’s dog watched her impatiently, by all appearances ready to go at her side, but she urged the dog to stay with the others, likely because Ruby hated the beasts. All fey hated dogs, but this one was especially offensive, given that he outweighed nearly any fey.

  I smirked, giving him a scratch on his massive head. He smiled back at me, his mouth wide and his shaggy hair splayed over a dark-mahogany eye.

  I turned, walking with Junnie through the maze of corridors, one goal in mind: figure out how to stop the deadening of the base energy and the filthy spellcasters who had caused it. When we entered Ruby’s room, I gestured the sentries who watched over her out. The room smelled of tonics and herbs, evidence the healer had just made her rounds. Junnie showed no sign of reluctance, making straight for the table that made Ruby’s bed.

  Ruby was silent and still, the only movement a slow rise and fall of her chest. Grey sat in the corner, his constant presence not merely due to his concern for her, but because I’d ordered it. Ruby was the one person with the knowledge the spellcasters needed, and she would not be left alone.

  Grey’s flesh had lost most of its rawness, the skin healing to a shiny pink with ridges in the worst areas. Ruby’s had not been burned. Her mother had been a fire fey, and even though Ruby was half elf, her skin had been protected. Her injuries were much deeper, her energy exhausted when the changelings had used her as a conduit.

  As Junnie’s hands ran over Ruby’s temples, my thoughts returned to what she’d said in the study and her assumption that the stone Veil had taken was that cursed ruby. The spellcasters didn’t need
that stone any longer, as they had used Ruby—a powerful fire fey even if she was half elf—to break the darkness of Hollow Forest free.

  I could think of no reason that was not tied to this dilemma for Veil to have taken the dragonstone from my jewels, so I’d sent my guard to bring back a dragon to study. I’d not known I would be able to reach the creature’s mind, assuming they were too complex, their magic too much like a fey. But the ability had opened possibilities to us, and as soon as the dragon had a moment to rest, I would take Rhys and Rider to study how its energy worked.

  I would be able to urge the dragon to use its magic on command.

  Junnie’s words cut through my ruminations. “She’s healed considerably.” Junnie glanced at Grey. “When the tonics are removed, does she wake on her own?”

  He stood, crossing his hands behind his back. “Not well. She rattles tinctures and recipes and swats at whoever comes near. I’m not sure she truly sees us, but I believe she recognizes that we are here. By touch, if nothing else.”

  I averted my gaze because I’d witnessed what had given Grey that idea, the way Ruby reacted when he’d held her hand in his and her thumb had crossed the ridges of his scars.

  Junnie nodded. “It is good that she’s kept at rest a bit longer, then.” She met my gaze. “Liana is doing right by her.”

  “Thank you.” My voice sounded more distressed than I’d intended, but I didn’t waste time with regret for it. “And when she does wake?”

  “I believe she will be as hale as ever, after a time. The darkness does not change who a person is.”

  She let her words sit with me, the second reminder in a single day. Junnie knew what was inside of Chevelle. She understood because his work at the battle of Hollow Forest had saved her life. The darkness that was inside of him was what allowed her to live.

  That didn’t mean any of us liked it.

  “Thank you,” I said again. “I will…” I took a long breath. “I will discuss it with Chevelle and bring it to Rhys and Rider in the morning.”

  Junnie nodded. It was the right thing to do, a thing I could no longer avoid. It was not my only secret, and I had wasted enough time trying to hide and not wanting to trust.

  “Before you go,” I told her, “one more thing.”

  Junnie was gone. I’d shown her the manuscript Rhys and Rider had found, the one detailing how Finn and Keaton had gone from ancients to wolves. She’d confirmed what I’d suspected: it appeared as if the key to deciphering those details was on a missing page.

  I did not think it was by accident.

  I sighed, staring up at the canopy above my bed. The muffled clink of Chevelle removing his armor and then the splash of water in the basin sounded as I took a wide arc around the castle in the mind of my hawk. The grounds were quiet, the dragon sleeping. There was little movement in the courtyards and around the stables, only the normal routines of guards on patrol. I let the bird go, opening my eyes as Chevelle settled beside me on the bed.

  He faced away from me as he unlaced his shirt. I did not look forward to what might lie beneath, what Veil might have done. “I should have asked Junnie for something,” I said, but he only shook his head. Neither of us wanted to regale Junnie with the tale of a fey lord intruding into our bedroom. It was embarrassing and infuriating that Veil had succeeded in doing so more than once.

  The torchlights flickered out as Chevelle turned to me, lifting the shirt carefully over his head. His shoulder was outlined by the spare moonlight coming through the window, and I did not argue to see what damage Veil had managed. Chevelle’s fingers brushed the bare skin of my arm as he lay beside me, trailing a hand up to cup my cheek. He leaned in, placed a kiss soft on my lips, and then braced his head on his arm to look at me.

  He could see better in the dark than me. I didn’t think that would ever stop being annoying. “Are you smiling right now?” I asked.

  His laugh was soft. “Not at all.” His thumb pulled at my scowl.

  I gave it a little bite. “Junnie wants us to tell Rhys and Rider,” I said.

  I thought I made out the movement of his smile falling. “Yes,” he answered. “It’s going to have to be now.” He twined the fingers of his free hand through mine. It was easier for him to let go than me. It always had been. Everything connected to Asher felt terrifying to surrender. I’d spent so many years keeping it hidden to keep us alive, but that was over.

  Chevelle had the connection to the darkness required for casting, and the secret that Asher and Chevelle’s father had experimented, long before Isa or me, felt so dark. It was that which had given Chevelle his connection, the ability to move power for stronger spellcasting. Asher had tried to force him to use it, as had Chevelle’s own father, and keeping it hidden was all that had kept Chevelle alive. He had lost so much because of it—his mother, for one—but had he revealed the ability, Asher would have taken much, much more.

  My mother’s whispered words from so long ago came to me: “Light magic excels at growing, dark at killing things.” Her fingers had played over my hair in their constant battle to get an intricate braid to stay. I had thought she was telling me stories, explaining the power the elders refused to detail. “Fey magic is the energy that flows between.” I could feel the echo of her touch, the memories less painful since her tormentor had been laid to rest. But there was something my mother did not say, something we had learned the hard way.

  Spellcasting was none of those things. Spellcasting was subverting energy from its natural course, stealing it, something only a being like Asher would do. Asher had tried to root his ideology within the son of his head guard. Asher had cast upon Sapphire when she’d been with child, and when Chevelle had come out a disappointment and his mother was marred by it to a mild degree, she had been quietly banished. Her namesake eyes had gone that stranger shade of blue, bits of her flesh scarred so that she kept them hidden beneath elaborate gowns. Chevelle’s father, Rune, had been a part of it, I was certain—even if I had not been witness to the actual event. And when I had tried to escape from beneath Asher’s thumb, Sapphire had been delivered to the castle gates, those eyes that had been a mirror of Chevelle’s cleaved from their sockets as a warning, a punishment.

  We had stayed to prevent Asher from doing harm to everyone he touched. And though none of us knew it, he and Rune had tried again with other beings, with humans, fey, and who-knew-who else. Asher had made a deal with the spellcasters who’d brought the darkness onto fey lands. He had found a way to place the connection into Chevelle, and he had unleashed that power into treacherous hands.

  The magic used for spellcasting was a dark, malevolent thing, but in the manner Asher had used it, it was especially vile.

  Chevelle brushed a thumb over my knuckle. He hadn’t known how his connection worked when he was a child, but he would have understood the need to hide his ability without even the constant warnings from his mother. As such, he’d been unable to use it, to practice and learn. When it had finally slipped free of him, bad things had happened. He had kept it bound within him since, kept it safe and secret until Asher had used his own casting against me.

  Until Asher and the Council stole my mind.

  Then Chevelle learned the ways in which it was used and had to discover how those methods applied to his own to unbind me. But he’d never gotten that far. There were limits. There were dangers.

  It was apparent he was still learning. I had not been keeping track exactly how much, but it was the only way he could have been able to stand a chance against a fey lord. I didn’t know how much of that was because Veil had been wounded by a poisoned blade or because we’d taken on the darkness in the fires of Hollow Forest. And it was true that off of fey lands, Veil could not access the base energy. But Chevelle had outmaneuvered him. He was getting stronger. It was how he had saved Junnie.

  I tightened my grip in his. Junnie was a creature of the light—it was the only energy she could reach. She could not have saved herself against a spell that powerful. �
��Council broke into Asher’s vaults,” I said. My voice was hushed, but speaking of the attack seemed loud in the darkness of our room. It was not so long ago that we saw burning pages, the broken block, the scattering of scrolls, the crunch of the Council leader’s bones as I broke him in two. “Do you think they knew of this then? That they were searching for his casting ledgers because they understood what was happening with the fey?”

  Chevelle moved closer, bringing our hands against his chest. “No. They were here to destroy. Had they known, they would have waited.”

  I wasn’t sure that was true. Their goal had been to destroy the North and its rule, yes, but that ruler had been Asher, and his rule had been spreading.

  “In the morning,” Chevelle said, placing a gentle kiss on the tip of my nose. “All of it can wait.”

  “All of it?” I asked.

  I could hear the smile in his voice when he said, “Well, not all of it.”

  I waited in the darkness, thinking he would speak of sweeter things. He let me wait. It was no secret I had trouble keeping patient.

  When he finally spoke, the words made me laugh. “Let’s talk about this dragon.”

  16

  Veil

  They raced through the trees, staying low beneath the canopy as they drew from the river of energy within the earth. The thrill of the hunt had roused even those who had been torpid with drink, but their echoed crashing through the forest—behind the more driven mass of the high fey court—would do nothing to dissuade their course. If the noise of the horde alerted their prey, then the chase would only become that much more interesting.

  They had found one of the spellcasters, but their thirst had not been sated. They’d roamed the forest en masse and had picked up the trail of more.