The Frey Saga Book V Page 7

  Ruby rolled her eyes.

  The girl beside her stared in wonder but not quite awe at the fey lord. Ruby could almost feel Willa’s instincts to reach again for her sword. She didn’t think she could blame her, as Ruby’s own hand twitched in want of the whip. She’d been ready that time. Its barbs were tipped with a special blend of poison, just for the fey.

  Veil’s booted feet landed on the low grass of the creek bank, far enough back that it was clear the boundary was still in place. He was shirtless and golden, as always, but the fey lord wore a new arsenal of razor-sharp daggers. Those weapons did not shine in the glow of the morning sun like the man who wore them, because fey blades were not made of steel. They would be bone and wood, matter that did not cause their owner harm. It did not make them less deadly.

  Veil’s gaze struck Ruby, but before he could begin to preen, she demanded, “We have your protection?”

  “Of course,” Veil said. The announcement was not an order for Ruby and her guest but for those who waited in the trees.

  Ruby nodded, stepping onto the creek bank beyond the protections of the ancient boundary and her own lands. Veil’s attention moved to the girl behind her, and Ruby stepped between the two. “She’s mine. She will stay mine. Any harm to her will be repaid tenfold to the beings responsible and to you personally.”

  Veil gave Ruby a look.

  “I do not exaggerate,” she told him.

  “Fine.” He gestured vaguely, but the shadows in the forest took note. The sun had fully risen, its glow illuminating the splendor that was the fey forest and the lord of its court. The season had shifted early, warming even the elven lands. It smelled of Veil, of summer winds and the bite of cardamom. Wide leaves shifted to let them pass, vines pulsing with the energy of that beneath the earth.

  When they traveled farther into the forest, Ruby lengthened her stride to catch up. “You’ve found him, then?”

  Veil glanced at her sidelong then back to the trees. “We should discuss this in my private quarters. Would you not agree?”

  She glared up at him—she had no choice in the matter, given that she barely met his chest and couldn’t fly. “We don’t have time for this.” His expression said he was in no hurry, so Ruby explained, “The others will notice we’re gone soon.”

  The corner of Veil’s mouth tipped into an odd angle, and Ruby’s step faltered. “Not to worry, halfling,” he said. “I’ve sent them a gift to occupy their time.”

  Heat flared in her palms, and Ruby hissed. Willa was beside her in an instant, sword drawn. Ruby shook her head and shoved the girl’s blade down. “Will you stop that?” Her glare turned toward Veil. “We made a bargain. They are off-limits.”

  He spun to face her full-on, his wings flicking with irritation despite being drawn against his back. “No harm will come to any. You said nothing of distracting them.”

  “They’ve been through enough,” Ruby said coldly. She did not trust his idea of distraction.

  Veil leaned closer, his presence both overwhelming and enticing. “As have we all.”

  A wood nymph shifted in the trees, sprawling her body over a limb to stare down at them, and Ruby realized something about Veil she’d not before. Creatures had always been drawn to him—whether it was because of his access to the base magic or some inherent part of him, she wasn’t sure, but they’d kept their distance. He wasn’t being overrun as it was, but it seemed that a shift in his ability to move freely had occurred. She understood why. The heliotropes who had acted as his guard had kept the others at bay. Their power to sway the minds of anyone within reach and even cause a sort of hypnotism in weaker minds had allowed them to keep Veil safe without so much as lifting a sword. It was not the same power as Frey’s. It wasn’t an occupation inside their minds but more of an influence, a push.

  It was enough. The heliotropes had been at Veil’s side for as long as she could remember, and they had known him better than anyone. It was that familiarity that had cost him in the end, because they had betrayed him.

  Veil might have been bitter about the entire ordeal, but Frey had stepped in to save him and hadn’t truly betrayed their understanding, either. Frey had done what Veil had asked of her in the bargain, even if it didn’t transpire in exactly the way he might have planned. She’d been smart not to let him step down from a fight with Pitt, because Pitt would have betrayed his word to her, as he’d done to Veil. It had nearly been a disaster, but in the end, the fey lord had gotten what he’d asked for, no matter if it was what he wanted. Anyone could expect as much from a fey trade, though Ruby reckoned a high fey lord did not usually give away the upper hand. Then again, he hadn’t had much of a choice.

  Veil walked through a particularly dense section of forest then brought them out to a wide clearing scattered with pale-gray stones. The morning sun shone brightly, a reminder of the stark darkness beneath the canopy from which they’d just emerged. Willa gave a little shake as she sidled up beside Ruby, apparently knocking loose phantom nightbugs. The fey lord glanced around the clearing, though the gesture was too smooth to appear anxious, then made a strange sort of call into the sky. It was not a sound as much as a feeling—the strong current beneath the ground purled and hissed in response, and though Ruby could not reach it, she could sense the movement as it flowed through Veil and around them. Willa must have felt it too or at least sensed something else, because her eyes rose with Ruby’s to stare into the cloudless blue sky.

  Ruby lifted a hand to shield her gaze as two dark masses swept past. A strange noise came from beside her, and Ruby glanced over to see Willa’s mouth pop open in astonishment. Ruby’s arm dropped to her side as she gave Veil a look, not at all surprised to find him wearing a ridiculously pompous grin. “How in the name of the realm have you managed to keep these a secret?” she asked.

  “Secrets are our specialty,” he purred.

  Ruby blinked. “But why keep them hidden?”

  His expression said that much was obvious. She didn’t suppose he was wrong. After all, that was why he was bringing the animals there. Ruby—like the other elves—could not fly. The fey had the upper hand there.

  She frowned, a hand twitching toward the barbed whip on her hip.

  Veil’s grin widened, and he lifted a palm as if he himself were guiding the glorious winged beasts to the ground.

  Willa’s voice was as light as a whisper beside them. “Those horses have wings.”

  Ruby pressed her fingers tightly into her palms. “I hope it was not a mistake to bring you along, soldier.”

  Willa’s eyes cleared at the word, as steady and sure as ever as they met Ruby’s.

  Ruby nodded. “Excellent. Then let us ride these winged beasts into certain danger beside a high fey lord, shall we?”

  Willa, who was usually nearly as solemn as Chevelle, grinned like an absolute charm. Ruby’s head fell back in a laugh, and the horses eyed her as they alighted on the flattened ground of the clearing. If Ruby wished for anything outside of the success of her mission, it was that her brother could see them.

  The beasts were massive and steel gray, muscled more thickly than any of Steed’s best stock. Their wings were not those of the fey but more like a bird’s, soft and structured and folding into and out of themselves with breathtaking ease. This, Ruby thought, was where the fey obsession had stemmed from. “How many are out there?” she asked.

  Veil shook his head. “Few, and less every season.”

  “Because of the base magic?”

  “The encroachment,” he said. “Their lands were on the cliffs far past these forests. We saved what we could.” The tilt of his brow said he’d seen it himself and that more than just these winged beasts had been lost.

  “We need to go,” Ruby told him. It was not meant as a reminder, because the fey lord knew the dangers better than anyone, but as a promise that it would be dealt with and the devastation would stop. They would find a way.

  Veil’s feet lifted barely off the ground as he swooped forwa
rd, spinning past Ruby to grab Willa by the weapons straps crossing her back. To her credit, she did not scream as she was hoisted into the air, but when Ruby vaulted herself onto the back of the opposite horse, she could see the girl’s hands trembling. Ruby leaned forward, gripping the beast’s mane, and pressed her knees and calves into the animal’s sides and away from its wings. The girl watched carefully before doing the same. She nodded once to Ruby, who glanced at Veil. He grinned again, though Ruby could not tell whether it was because of the sight of the two on horseback or in anticipation of what was to come.

  Veil’s wings took one long draw, and he rose into the sky above them. Ruby tightened her grip and made a silent wish, and the horse’s entire being seemed to shudder beneath her before its body rolled up into an arc, its wings rising into a full spread to push the air beneath it. Ruby held her breath. It was not the flight of the fey—magic didn’t drive the thing’s motion. It was the sheer force of air and muscle, feather and bone. The beast’s hooves left the ground, and its wings met, battering Ruby between the soft plumage and spikes of hollow bone. She ducked, not wanting to be pulled free, and they rose incrementally until they were fully airborne, driving upward and into that blue sky. She wanted to close her eyes, but the fey were watching. Despite everything that had happened, there was still one rule that could never be forgotten: one did not show fear to the fey.

  She thought of attempting a glance back at Willa but could only take in the expanse of wing and sky. The beast tilted, and Ruby leaned harder into its back, twining her fingers more tightly into the animal’s thick mane.

  As they keeled sideways, Ruby could see the deep green of the trees below. The fey lands were massive, with forests as far as the eye could see. There were small breaks and clearings, and the stone formations held soft angles and light colors so unlike the jagged dark rocks of home. And there were towers and dwellings rising from the ground, though most fey lived and slept beneath the canopy of trees. The dark night in the forest was not a place Ruby ever wanted to see again, but the fey thrived there. It was home not just to Veil and his court but to countless beings who subsisted on the river of energy that flowed beneath its ground.

  They finally reached the edge of that river of energy late into the day, where the creeping deadness could be felt even high in the air. The earth was dry, the ground packed, and the green going more than simply sparse—it turned to dust and withering leaves.

  Veil dove closer to the earth, and Ruby understood that he would not cross that boundary. He would not step onto the barren ground, would not soar over land that was somehow being drained of the energy flowing through him.

  It might have been superstition on the part of the fey. It was impossible to know if the deadening of that energy could at some point affect them beyond the draw on the base magic, but it was wise not to be the one who found out. The horses dove behind Veil, but when they neared the earth, they bucked and tossed their heads. Ruby leapt to standing, prepared to jump free, but Willa was thrown from her mount. Veil caught her a breath before she smacked into the ground, swinging her up to stand with a wince—Willa’s petite form was laden with metal weapons. When they were at a safe height, Ruby jumped down, and the horses immediately took back to the sky.

  Ruby straightened to dust herself off, and Willa took a small step away from Veil.

  “This is where I leave you,” he said. “I have men standing guard, but none will follow onto the encroachment.”

  Ruby narrowed her gaze on him. When Pitt had brought her to the edge of the barren ground to test her strength, there had been a pile of bones marking the land. And before that, someone had taken humans to the boundary between lands that the ancients had laid in place after the fey war. “Then how are they getting across?”

  “I did not say no one crossed before. I said no one will follow now.”

  So not because of the humans. Ruby wondered what, then, was stopping them from crossing, and if it was Isa. Ruby remembered how they’d reacted to her before, how none of the fey had been interested in trying her, even among the fervor of the fates’ dance. But there had been wolves, too, a horde of them. “And you think Pitt’s there,” Ruby said, “with the humans?”

  “We have searched everywhere else. If he is not there, he is not within reach.”

  “You dragged me all the way out here on a suspicion.”

  The corner of his mouth twitched. “I did not.”

  That was it, then, all he was willing to give her. She supposed it was more than she would have had on her own.

  Ruby felt Willa tense beside her and followed the girl’s gaze into the low trees and sparse growth on the barren ground. Looking back at her were a dozen pairs of golden eyes.

  “Perfect,” she said to Veil. “A pack of wolves to replace you.”

  14

  Ruby

  Ruby stepped from the fey lands onto the barren ground and felt the hollowness beneath it. There was a lack of something not quite tangible and the absence of the base magic’s flow. In its place was a deadness, a stillness, and a pack of black-and-silver wolves. Ruby glanced at Willa, who appeared far calmer when faced with wolves than with fey, then moved to walk through the beasts and the trees ahead. Ruby knew she smelled of fey, but whether it was the scent of elves that kept her safe or that the animals had been given a long-ago direction against hurting her, specifically, she could not know. Because Ruby was certain the animals had been ordered to tear apart any fey that came near Isa.

  The trees were short and thin, nothing like the forests of the fey. The growth was wild and tangled, not guided by magic or manicured in any way. Willa pulled a short blade from her belt, slashing at vines here and there. It was something she’d not attempted in the fey forests, which meant she’d been trained in more than how to deal with a blade. She knew something of the fey.

  “What do you know of the humans?” Ruby asked her.

  “Only the stories.”

  She meant rumors. She wouldn’t have heard the tales from the fey, only accounts told by the elves who had gone to fight on fey lands beside the Seven, rogues and clans, the people of Camber.

  The girl kept her gaze on Ruby, waiting.

  “They are not dangerous,” Ruby told her, though the statement felt wrong. The humans had a been a large part of the incitements of the massacre of the North, and the hollow ground beneath their feet spoke of something even darker. “It is not the humans we have to be careful of this time.” It was the changeling who posed the threat to their lives. What he might look like when they found him, though, she didn’t precisely know. “Nevertheless, keep your hand to your blade and your senses on alert.”

  Ruby didn’t think she needed to remind the girl, because Willa had been on high alert since she was a child. The Lord of the North might not have been able to keep a close eye on each of her guard, but in her stead, Edan had. The head of the guard had started his watch before anyone set foot onto castle grounds, while they were still young and learning, and those with the gift of fire had been brought to Ruby’s attention long before she had been asked to step in as trainer. If the Seven were to trust anyone to get that close to Freya, they would have been certain of the prospect’s fealty first.

  Ruby and Willa traveled far into the outer lands through forests and plains, the warmth of the day becoming more noticeable as they gained distance from the fey lands. The ground grew less fertile, dry and dusty in paths and patches, as if the land was not merely empty of the base energy but drained of the nutrients required to grow. Ruby couldn’t be certain, though, because she wasn’t convinced she’d ever seen land not tended at least in part by the hand of an elf or fey. They couldn’t seem to help themselves.

  When dusk finally started to settle, the shadows in the trees returned. The greenery was less imposing there, but there was no question what the beasts behind them were. The wolves came in closer, darting carelessly between the brush, dancing among their packmates. They were not the movements of beasts under sway. T
hey were wild animals, likely brought there by Junnie but free of her command. There was the snap of a low limb and a strange whine. One shadow tumbled over another.

  “Climb.” Ruby’s word was curt, her tone clear, and as she leapt into the branches overhead, swinging herself higher into the sparse canopy, Willa scrambled up behind her. The girl was capable enough, but the trees were not made for climbing. Their bark was smooth and slick, their limbs too few and far between. Were they to try to stay above ground, they would have a devil of a time getting from one to the next, but that didn’t mean she was ready to take back to the earth.

  Willa finally reached a limb near Ruby, and together they watched the shadows below. If they had to, they could fight the beasts, but Junnie had left them for a reason—and feral wolves were hugely preferable to a pack of wild fey.

  Ruby leaned back to glance at Willa. The girl’s hands were wrapped tightly around one branch, her feet perched on another. “Do you need to rest?” Ruby asked.

  The girl looked up from the forest floor and shook her head.

  “It can’t be much farther.” Ruby had been keeping track and knew how long it took the sentries to get in and out, unless Isa had moved the humans back even more.

  She heard footfalls.

  Willa went still a heartbeat after Ruby, though whether she’d heard it herself or only reacted to Ruby was hard to say. Ruby held up a finger to indicate wait here, and when she received a nod, Ruby leapt from the branch into a nearby tree, springing as lightly as she could manage. The limb that caught her was too thin and bounced with her weight, shaking its leaves. She held her breath and clambered closer to the stem. It was too late. The footfalls had halted. She heard the whisper of a drawn bow.

  They were Junnie’s men, then.

  “Cease,” she said, dropping from the bough to the flat earth beneath. The wolves shifted and whined but did not move closer.