Frey by Melissa Wright

Chapter Eleven

  An Education

  The next morning, Ruby was in the main room waiting for me. She instructed me to bathe and change; we would be spending the day training. I followed her directives, but couldn’t decide whether to be grateful or worried when the clothes she’d laid out for me were plainly meant for a hard day. It was still early as we stole out the back, cloaks covering our heads as we made our way to the ridge.

  Steed, Chevelle, Grey, and Anvil were already there. I imagined the others—Rhys, Rider, and their dogs—were somewhere near, though I couldn’t see them. Watchdogs, I thought, all four. It was comforting, but Ruby wasted no time in getting to training. She immediately trounced me. Repeatedly. I felt all kinds of defeated before we’d gone half an hour.

  After watching us for a while, Steed stepped in to save me. “Frey”—he’d converted to the nickname the others used in place of the sunnier ones—“why don’t you take a break for a while? Let us spar so you can watch. We’ll give you a few pointers.”

  I didn’t know if I liked the idea of the group sparring, whether it gave me a break from the torture or not, but Grey stepped forward and my opinion no longer mattered.

  “Just watch and learn.”

  I backed away and sat cross-legged on the ground. Ruby joined me; I could tell she was excited. It seemed everything excited Ruby. Everything that makes me nervous, I amended in my head.

  Steed and Grey stood opposite each other in the center of the clearing we circled. A cursory nod at one another signaled the onset of the bout and both tensed and crouched slightly into a ready stance. I found myself leaning forward as we waited. Chevelle moved to stand beside me, he too intent. Grey wagged his eyebrows at Steed, taunting him to make the first move.

  “Come on, blossom,” Steed teased back, “let’s see what you’ve got.”

  At that, Grey disappeared and then, in a flash, was behind Steed, reaching up to smack him in the back of the head. The instant before he struck, Steed ducked into a squat and spun, taking Grey’s legs out from under him. I flinched. Grey was gone again, this time reappearing midair in a flip above Steed’s head, reaching down to tag him on the way by. It was a loud smack. I was sure it had stung. Steed stood still, focused on the spot where Grey had landed and was flickering in and out of view. I made an effort to consider possible responses in my head, but was coming up blank.

  The nerves were gone. I found myself wanting Steed to win and leaned with his strikes, tensing as if they were my own. Grey bounded through the air once more, showing off, confident in his evident lead, and then a small rock rose at chest height in front of Steed. I was trying to figure out who had lifted it when Grey flashed back into view, hesitating only a moment as he considered the rock. At once, his face changed; he knew he’d been beaten. As he’d paused to study the floating rock, Steed had immobilized him and, just like that, the match was over.

  Ruby leaned into me, voice soft. “Steed is stronger than Grey. He only needed to catch him.”

  Grey conceded, his walk slower, movements no longer jerky as he made his way out of the makeshift ring. Steed threw me a quick wink.

  Anvil approached next, stepping into the same starting position Grey had used, and Steed shifted several paces back before he readied himself and nodded toward his new opponent. I remembered the tree and was suddenly afraid for him. Would Anvil use the same method on a person?

  A thunderous crack answered my unspoken question. The lightning bolt was faster than my eyes at such a close distance, by the time I looked at Steed, there was nothing but a wall of water. He had constructed a barrier of sorts, caught the strike and redirected it around himself by melting the snow that spotted the mountain. Anvil was winded, though the strike wasn’t as severe as his previous show. Steed would unquestionably be the winner now and as he took aim to retaliate, his opponent raised his hands in surrender.

  “Quick thinking, Mister Summit.” The large man grinned and I was in no doubt they were old friends.

  Chevelle stepped forward then, eager. I had a feeling he’d been itching for this the way I’d been itching to burn Ruby. Steed smiled in acceptance, but not the same smile he’d given his last opponent. They stood across from each other and readied themselves. Both tensed but neither took the low, wide stance previously used.

  As their eyes fixed on one another, I felt myself, and Ruby beside me, lean forward in anticipation of action. Both men went taut, their muscles corded, jaws clenched tight, determined stares focusing only on each other. I saw nothing happen but knew there must be something, some unseen force causing them pain, draining them. I couldn’t look away but stammered to Ruby, “What’s happening?”

  “They are trying to overpower one another.” I could hear the pleasure in her voice. “No silly games, just power.” The way she said it had some part of my mind wondering whether her statement about not having her mother’s ambition was true. But I could only concentrate on the struggle in front of me. No visible action. I tried to judge by appearance who might be winning. Chevelle’s jaw was set, eyes dark. Steed flinched, but I had no idea if it was pain or magic. The only thing I was sure of was that neither intended to lose. Their stances, right down to their gazes, were absolutely unwavering.

  A sound behind me drew attention to how quiet the valley had grown as we watched this unanimated brawl. And in an instant, how still. Steed and Chevelle broke their stare, turning to the noise—dogs, I thought—before the entire world shifted into action. Ruby was gone, vanished from beside me, and I was whisked from my seat, catching only a glimpse of Steed and Chevelle darting past.

  In less than a heartbeat, I was standing over the rocks in the opposite direction, Ruby before me, red curls blocking my view, arms outstretched in readiness. Steed and Chevelle were at opposite angles in front of us, both tensed, even more so than they had been in their bout. I peered around Ruby’s mane to see what they were focused on.

  In front of our triangle, directly ahead of Ruby, stood a reedy, blond elf, draped in the long white robe and tassels of council. I felt sickened as I absorbed the idea that a council member—is he a tracker?—had been behind me as we were all engrossed in a trivial match. He was frozen, unmistakable agony distorting his features. I didn’t know which of the group were restraining him, but Anvil and Grey flanked him, Rhys and Rider a distance behind with their dogs.

  The man seemed to be attempting to speak but couldn’t get the words out. His hair was so pale, robe stark in the moonlight, that I became aware of how quickly I’d grown accustomed to the dark features of my new companions. Chevelle mumbled something but I couldn’t make it out. My ears had begun to buzz, not the all-out siren that had crippled me before, but a constant, crackling hum. I worked my jaw, tugged at the lobe of my ear. The stranger’s lips moved, apparently able to speak again, and Anvil approached him, dwarfing the captive with his mass.

  Anvil exhibited remarkable menace when he addressed the frozen councilman, who mouthed another reply. Through ringing ears I couldn’t decipher their words, but somehow I did hear the breaking bones. A grotesque crunch accompanied the snapping of the councilman’s thigh, and he dropped nearly to the ground. Anvil leaned over him, somehow even more intimidating as he spoke directly to the man, as if they were the only two here, as if he hadn’t just suffered a traumatic injury. And, evidently, Anvil didn’t like the answers he received, because the councilman’s other leg snapped, dropping him to rest on the stumps of his broken, mangled thighs.

  I should have turned at the sight, but I couldn’t keep from wondering how it was possible he remained upright at all. Anvil bent down to keep his stare close, threatening, and the broken man looked at me. His glare turned accusing, his mouth suddenly moving with heated, determined words, but my ears only rang louder, engulfing all other sound. I cringed, but couldn’t stop myself from watching the scene play out, even as my head turned down, wanting to look away. Why is he fixed on me? What are they saying?

  Ruby remained protectively in front of me
, her posture lowered, arms tensed tighter since the stranger turned his eyes on me. His face twisted in agony as his right arm was dislocated from its socket, leaving the limb hanging limply at the shoulder. I was glad I didn’t hear that sound. He turned back to his questioner, his mouth a grimace as the words came out, unmistakably a curse, and his other arm was wrenched from its place as well. He winced, apparently not yet numb from the damages, and then his face went hard, his lips pressed together, jaw clenched tight. He wasn’t going to scream. Or talk.

  His back twisted and he fell, a motionless heap on the ground. His body was bent out of recognition.

  It was over.

  My ears had stopped ringing the moment he’d hit the ground. Ruby relaxed and stepped away from me. I wanted to catch up with what had happened but no one was talking, the mountain was silent. Rhys and Rider were once again gone from sight.

  “Aren’t you going to perform the death ceremony?” I worried as the other elves began walking away.

  Anvil spat on the mangled body. The corpse. “It’s done.”

  I stood staring at the crumpled mass as the others gathered, arguing.

  A council member.

  “It’s time to move,” someone said.

  Came for me.

  “No, not yet.” Someone else.

  They killed him.

  And I was glad.

  “There could be more,” Grey insisted.

  That brought me back, no matter how disturbing my realization was. “More?”

  Chevelle gave the bickering group an admonishing glare as he approached me.

  I could hear the alarm in my own voice when I repeated, “There are more council members coming for me?”

  He tried to calm me. “Frey—”

  I cut him off. “I won’t let you all pay for my crimes.” Confusion passed over their faces, everyone except for Chevelle.

  “We aren’t. You don’t understand…” Something flickered in his eyes. “Besides, they are pursuing me. For choking the tracker.”

  Grey shook his head.

  “Because of me,” I argued. “And now you’ve killed one.” But I didn’t know who had killed him. Anvil had stood before the man, but any one of them could have snapped his spine.

  “Frey.” Chevelle’s tone was solemn. “You know what they did to your mother.” And I could hear what he didn’t say. You know what they’ll do to you.

  I didn’t have a counter for that and he knew it. He took advantage of the silence, giving orders to Ruby. “Take her to the house.”

  She had me at once, towing me beside her as she retrieved our cloaks.

  Chevelle was still instructing, “Steed, watch the front, stay inside. Grey, take the rear, out of sight. Anything, no matter how trivial, signal the wolves.”

  Wolves. They had been wolves, not dogs. I immediately had more respect for the tall, pale-haired elves. Men who tamed wild wolves.

  We were back at the house in what seemed like a heartbeat. Steed watched the village from the front room. Ruby sat with me on her bed, the door closed.

  “This will calm you,” she said. A sprinkle of glitter hit my face before I had the chance to protest. “Just a touch,” she assured me, “just a touch.”

  It was too late. The dust had already taken effect. I relaxed onto the bed, just as Ruby did the same beside me. We stared at her ceiling unspeaking for an immeasurable amount of time. I rolled on my side toward her, dimly irritated she’d poisoned me again. Though it was much less severe this time. I was simply enveloped in tranquility.

  “Ruby…” Her curls had tumbled back and my complaint fell short as I was distracted by her ears.

  “Hmm?” she answered.

  I reached up to feel my own ears as I considered hers. I had always hidden mine behind hair, never braiding it back or putting it up to expose them. Not that I could have pulled off the intricate braiding and designs of the other elves. But my ears were clearly more rounded than everyone else’s, almost blunt. Ruby’s were different, too. Hers were more angular though, long and almost pointed at the tip. Neither of us matched the norm. Hers were one extreme, mine the other.

  She turned to look at me. “Feeling okay?”

  I remembered I was going to ask her something. I said, “Mm-hmm,” and got lost in the hum of my reply. She smiled at my satisfied trance.

  I faded off to blackness then, though my dreams were vivid and wild.

  I was a hawk, flying high above the mountain. My wings stretched as I soared through an endless and open sky. Through keen eyes I watched below, surveying a massive structure of dark stones. Then I was a wolf, running through those stones, hunting, searching, protecting. My muscular shoulders tensed and released with each long stride. I was myself again, though strong and confident. Two statuesque elves, twinned in white, glided past me. Lightning struck around me, cracking the dark stones of the walls. Reed of Keithar Peak stood before me and suddenly I was on a pedestal, looking down as he wagged his tongue at me. I scorned him, burning a chunk of it off, and he smiled.

  I jolted awake, the smell of burning flesh still lingering in my senses, and was staring at Ruby’s ceiling. Curse her. I was alone in her bed, but could hear an exchange of low whispers from the open door as she and Steed conversed in the front room. I wasn’t about to announce I had woken. My head didn’t throb as before, no sour mouth. It was overall a much better experience. But who could stand the dreams? I rolled to my side, rubbing the sleep from my face.

  There were a few books on the bedside table and I reached over to draw the top one near. I flipped idly through the pages, until I recognized it was detailing the different aspects of magic. I hurriedly scanned through, getting caught on a section marked Exchange. It claimed using magic consumed a person’s energy. Not just immediately available energy, but life energy.

  I’d never known a book to lie, but I couldn’t imagine its applications otherwise. Ruby was giving part of her existence to draw me a bath? Chevelle and Steed forfeited time for a silly instructional match? It couldn’t have been right. I tried to recall, though still clouded with fog, the magic I’d seen in the village. The youngsters played, careless with the use, often until they collapsed from exhaustion. But the elders, they were reserved. I couldn’t think of them using it for anything that could be done with less physical energy. They hunted with weapons, wrote with their hands, worked as if they took pleasure in it. Was there no energy left for magic? Or was it not important until you reached the close of your years and realized it was almost gone? I remembered how long a thousand years had seemed to me before I planned on spending it in a prison.

  Ruby walked in and I snapped the book shut, positive I shouldn’t have taken it from her table without permission. One glance at her stifled reaction and I knew I’d not be able to ask her about what I’d read.

  “Sleep well?” she asked.

  “Oh,” I started, my voice hoarse. She handed me a glass of water, which she smoothly traded for the book. “Dreams,” I complained.

  She smiled as she sat on the bed beside me. “Some seek out the breath. They say it is foresight.”

  “Foresight?”

  She nodded. “What did you see?” She raised an eyebrow questioningly.

  “Not the future.”

  She laughed. “Have a bath. You’ll be good as new.” The water was coming in the window again and I wondered at what I had just read. Surely the dust and fog were meddling with my thoughts. “Chevelle will be swapping with us for the evening,” she explained.

  The bath refreshed me but, unfortunately, it also cleared my mind. No wonder Ruby drugged me. I tried not to think about the tracker as I dressed. The smell of cold and morning hung in the air and I felt a pang of guilt at using the fragrance again, knowing Chevelle would be there. I appraised myself in the mirror and smiled, and then shook my head, certain the dust was still influencing me.

  When I walked into the main room, Chevelle was sitting on the bench seat, leaning over as he worked on someth
ing. He raised his head as I approached, closing his hand around whatever it was before sliding it into a pocket. He seemed mildly anxious.

  I was still feeling peculiar so I climbed into the seat beside him, curling my feet up close. He watched me, his eyes lingering even after I had settled. It felt as if he yearned to say something.

  The tension became too much and I broke. “Ruby drugged me.”

  He smiled. “She told me. She was worried about your sanity.” The last word cracked. He appeared to regret saying it.

  “Did she tell you”—I wasn’t sure I should be admitting this—“I read her book?”

  “Yes.”

  He wasn’t offering any information. I would have to ask. The dust must have given me courage. “It talked about exchange.” Still nothing. “About energy… life… for magic.”

  He cleared his throat. “Yes.”

  “Can you tell me about it?”

  “Today, after Anvil sparred with Steed, you saw how the strike drained him. This is something you’ll need to know for a group conflict. The tactics are different than one on one.” He hadn’t answered my question at all. But he was talking and I would take it. I nodded for him to go on. “A single opponent allows you to use more energy, focus only on that and let yourself…”

  My thoughts were wandering. Cursed dust.

  “… but with a number of opponents, you have to conserve your energy so you don’t leave yourself too weak…”

  I was watching his mouth move as he spoke but losing the words. I couldn’t focus.

  “… tactics that do not drain your energy. Protect yourself…”

  I was leaning toward him. Cursed fool.

  “… even hand-to-hand combat or choose a weapon. Ruby’s whip, a staff…”

  Cursed Ruby. Grrr…

  “Frey.”

  “Hm?”

  He shook his head. “Never mind.”

  I was angled toward him, could feel myself moving. My mind was screaming stop but it was too late. I closed in on his lips. I was close enough my intent was unmistakable when he grabbed me, wrapping both arms around my biceps in a too-tight grip. “Freya—”

  A howl. A wolf.

  He let out a deep breath and it tickled my nose. Oh. Oh, no. No, no, no. My head cleared, but Chevelle still held me around the arms. My neck flushed, my eyes shooting to my lap. I couldn’t look at him. What am I doing?

  The door opened and Chevelle’s hands dropped as he stood to face the newcomer.

  “They are here.” It was Steed’s voice, but I didn’t raise my head, the blood still hot in my cheeks.

  “Take her to the ridge, I will meet you after…” Chevelle stopped midsentence. After what? Steed must have been concerned because Chevelle explained, “Ruby gave her a little dust… to relax.”

  “Frey,” Steed said from beside me. I glanced at the door. Chevelle was gone. “Are you well?”

  “Ugh.”

  He snickered. “Come on.” He swept me up, planning to carry me. My head spun.

  “No. Please let me walk.”

  “You do not tolerate that stuff well. You’re going to have to lay off the shimmer.”

  “It’s not like I chose to take it,” I complained. He laughed.

  The cold air helped a little. I was back in the circle, the group of us sitting around a small fire. Ruby was telling stories. She related the tale of Bonnie Bell, a blue fairy from the East. “He hunts the human children, luring them in with glitter and lights, and eats them, beginning with their tiny little toes. Though he gives no choice in the matter, in exchange, he allows the mother one wish.”

  I scoffed, “Humans aren’t real.”

  “Even so,” she continued, smiling wickedly, “you’d be surprised how many don’t think to wish for their children back.” Raucous laughter floated up around the ring. Fairy tales indeed.

  It felt good being there, surrounded by my new companions, a fire and stories, laughter. This was more of a home than Fannie’s had ever been. But I was also under the influence of a fairy.

  “Better yet?” Ruby asked. I grimaced.

  Grey approached. “Ruby dear, won’t you allow us to partake?”

  “Speak for yourself,” Anvil cracked from across the fire, “last time I lost a bit of tongue.” I cringed and remembered my dream. I thought I could still smell burning flesh.

  Ruby laughed. “Ah, well, I suppose just this once.”

  Grey sat, rough brown boots resting among the stone, and she leaned over him as if for a kiss. Her lips stopped just short of his, their eyes connecting as a glint of firelight caught the shimmer and Grey breathed it in. As she pulled away, his fingers trailed slowly off her arm and I felt I was intruding, so I averted my eyes.

  Steed, beside me, gave me a gentle smile. I like Steed. He’s a good guy. I shook my head to clear it. Cursed dust.

  Ruby joined us. “Do the effects last longer sometimes?” I asked.

  “It depends.”

  “On what?” Seemed like an obvious followup.

  “Your mood.”

  I was irritated all over again, but got distracted when she licked the point of an arrow. “What are you doing?”

  She grinned. “Look, Frey, I don’t know if you’re up for this story right now.” I didn’t think she was funny. She sighed. “Okay, but you’ll probably regret it.”

  “Just give her the short version, Ruby,” Steed interrupted. “No gory details.” His eyebrow cocked meaningfully.

  “Oh, well, yes, that would do.” She smiled at me as she licked another arrow, tongue sliding carefully along the blade. “You see, my dear, being a one of a kind—well, as far as I know—has its benefits. Though they weren’t always benefits. Ooh, in the beginning it was bad… but, well, that’s the long version, isn’t it? No gory details.” She winked at Steed. “I am, how should I put it… venomous.”

  I gasped. It was her expected response. “Yes, yes. I know.” She held her tongue out for me to examine. As she pressed another arrow against it, tiny slits opened up and released a translucent liquid. “Not really venom, per se, all fairies have it. A chemical to help break down their food. Just that mine is toxic to many. Not to worry though, I have pretty good control of it now. Nasty, poisonous stuff.” She laughed again, “You know, that’s what Chevelle thought I intended the first time I dusted you.” I recalled the panic in his voice before he whisked her away. As disastrous a night as that had been, this one hadn’t gone much better.

  “Ruby, please take Frey back to the house.” Chevelle was standing behind us. I was too exhausted to jump, but Ruby merely glanced back at him, not at all surprised he was there.

  Her face crinkled. “Didn’t go well?” He didn’t respond but was obviously frustrated. I couldn’t tell if it was with Ruby or whatever hadn’t gone well. Or the idiotic offspring of his parent’s murderer who tried to seduce him in a drunken stupor. It didn’t matter, I was being removed again.

  Ruby rambled about all of the difficulties of and uses for venom on our way back. She’d gotten so involved in her stories I thought she must have forgotten I was there. Her last words confirmed it. “No one knew to check. How would they? I mean, a new species. A new breed. And lethal. Poison to her mother. They couldn’t even know that was what had happened until the others. Until the pattern became patent and they found the source.”

  I stared at Ruby, imagining the nameless “others” who’d been taken by her venom before they discovered its root. But it was not the idea of those strangers that tightened my chest.

  Poison. To her mother.