The dreams I had then were the most dreadful of my life. I jolted awake and shuddered at the images I could not beat down, my mother screaming in agony, her body tearing and breaking from the magic inside, fire, blood, betrayal.
Ruby was there, waiting for me.
"Where are the others?" I asked, my voice hoarse.
"They've set up a perimeter."
It was all I had to say. I felt empty, alone. It was dark—even with the dust, I'd not slept through the night. I sat up, curling my legs against my chest, and wrapped my arms around them, pulling tightly.
Though I didn't speak, I occasionally glanced or glared at Ruby. She sat, immobile, watching me.
It was morning before she broke. "You have your fire back."
It hadn't occurred to me. I held my hand out, flicked a flame above my palm, then promptly extinguished it. I tried moving a stone from the ground to no avail. Just fire. I sighed. But Ruby looked hopeful.
The group approached warily, keeping their eyes on me. Chevelle hung farther back, avoiding my gaze as he hovered near the edge of the mist. Steed led my horse to me. I didn't think I blamed him—he seemed to be involved by chance—but I hadn't fully decided yet. I was too occupied by my anger at Chevelle. It might have been irrational, but it felt as if he lied to me again. He'd been there before, when my mother was killed. He had known all of it, and he'd kept it from me. He had bound me from using my magic because I was dangerous, a deadly threat. I wasn't even wholly elf.
As we rode wordlessly through the cold stone landscape, my thoughts twisted and writhed as they were a pit of vipers. In the end, I'd decided I wasn't really that shocked about being half-human. It explained so much about myself, my clumsiness, lack of skill, and the fact that I never quite fit in. What took me by surprise was the betrayal I felt. In all the years I'd lived in the village, I'd never counted on anyone the way I had done with the group, and especially Chevelle. My chest was heavy.
The rest of me wanted everything to burn.
Struggling with my reactions kept me distracted from the ride. It was steep and rocky, with a haze hanging in the few spiky trees. When we stopped for the evening, the men quietly set up a perimeter, except for Chevelle, who was watching me as I glared back at him. I chastised myself for expecting more from him. He was my watcher. He'd volunteered to help council bind me. He owed me nothing. But it didn't stop the hostile glower I was sending his way.
Ruby stepped in front of him. "I'll stay with her."
He didn't reply but merely turned from her to walk into the haze.
I was still fuming when she faced me, wearing a self-satisfied smile. She practically danced forward to plop down in front of me. "I have something for you, Frey."
I simply stared at her. She was harder to stay mad at. I expected her to be a pain—it wasn't as difficult to accept that she'd kept the truth from me.
She extracted a small package from beneath her cloak and passed it to me. I pulled the material aside and saw the V etched into the cover. I wondered what Chevelle would do if he knew she'd given it to me.
She answered my curious gaze. "It's yours, and I think you should be able to read it."
I could do nothing but nod. It didn't matter. Her expression made it clear that she considered herself forgiven. She faced the direction Chevelle had gone and left me to my discoveries.
I expected fury from my father. He never failed to disappoint me. He saw the child, as he called her, as an opportunity. I shouldn't have been surprised. After all, had he not stolen my mother for precisely the same purpose, to experiment with power? He did, however, concern himself with where I'd found a human.
I refused to tell. The only gift I could give Noble was his safety. I laughed bitterly as I remembered that was how I'd convinced him to stay. I'd promised him protection, but it was a false promise.
Eventually, one of the servants slipped, revealing they had seen me following my sister. And just like that, she was to blame for the entire ordeal, even though she'd never known. She'd been still searching the empty camp for trinkets and trifles. At least I was off the hook.
I surprised myself by being so slow. Of course, her sister would have been Aunt Fannie. For a flash, I felt sympathy for Fannie, but it passed. Just because life had given her sour grapes didn't mean she had to stomp them into wine and get drunk.
I wondered whether Fannie had known all along, but that was hard to discern. I did know that she had been bound, as I was.
The elders were a different story altogether. My father had given them orders to protect me and the child, and even though they followed through with them, they persisted in chattering about their concerns. The humans frightened them unreasonably. They constantly fretted, wanting to keep her—and me—from contaminating anyone else.
I attempted to reason with them, but they turned on me. "You don't understand. You never will! They will consume you. The humans will consume us all." Their hands shook as they spat out the words.
I didn't argue after that. I wouldn't have been allowed to leave the castle, anyway. Besides, it kept her from being paraded in front of so many visitors.
I stopped again. I had been born in a castle. I sat with the journal for a long moment. There was no way to reconcile that information with my own thoughts, no way to fill in what the bonds had taken. It hurt to read the diary, but there was no not finishing it. I decided the only way to keep going was if I did it as I had before I'd known it was my mother. I had to be an uninvolved reader.
My Freya has grown into a stubborn and willful child. She's prone to fits of screaming or crying. The emotion frightens the elders. It comes from her father, yes, but I can't see how it will harm her. The humans seemed to live their lives fine, controlling it well enough.
I frowned, hating that I felt like crying or screaming and that I could not step away from the story because it truly had been written of me. By my own mother. Then I remembered the tales of elven grief, how it could become strong enough to overwhelm one enough to take one's life. I felt sick, but I continued.
I received a visit from my mother's sister today. News of the child had reached her, and she felt she needed to call on me, now that my mother is not here to guide me.
I was in my room when she arrived. I heard the two quick raps and then one loud knock from her visits during my childhood and instantly knew it was her.
I gushed as my Aunt Junnie came in, grateful for someone who actually felt like family. She wore a simple hooded cloak, seemingly unafraid as she passed the guards at my door. She walked as though she ruled the castle, not as if she were a light elf in the center of a dark lord's rule.
She confessed to me a secret her family held, a power I had not known from my mother. They had kept it from my father, though he had stolen her after hearing a rumor of it. She passed to me many details of her sister, of the family... my family. She'd risked so much by coming here to help me, to help my child. I would owe her.
I had to stop reading as betrayal ripped through me again. Junnie.
Ruby laid her hands on mine, which were trembling, but I would not take the dust again.
Tears streamed silently as I drifted, the ache in my chest only dulled by exhaustion. I felt weak when I woke, but I was silent about the pain as we continued the journey. Yearning to avoid my thoughts altogether, I spent much of the day in the mind of my horse.
***
It was evening again when we stopped. I barely noticed the group's mood—though quiet, they seemed anxious and kept the perimeter close. Ruby brought me the book again, and I took one long, deep breath before I started back to it.
Freya is growing and strong. She has amassed a following of sorts, though I suspect it is somehow connected to her frailties. There is something endearing about it, but some of it worries me. She doesn't seem to be able to hear as well as she should through her rounded ears, and her voice is oddly alto. She is a beauty, though, her unusual features earning her extra attention. The elders express their anxiety again that the humans will consume us, but my father is already discussing arranged marriages, even mentioning Rune's son, of all people. He'll do anything he can to gain power from her.
It was hard to read my mother's diary. I had so little memory of her, but it had not diminished the loss I had felt all along. Her writings went on until they became more erratic, answering questions I didn't want answered.
My father has taken Freya from me. He has assigned her tasks, and Rune watches over her, testing her. It's just as Junnie feared—just what he'd done to my mother. I will find a way to stop him.
~
The elders are keeping Freya now. Guards have been assigned to me. Like a prison.
~
I killed three guards to get to her. We only had a moment before I was torn away from her, yet I feel I got the message through.
~
She came to see me last night. I don't know how she got past the guards. But I begged her to keep our secret, for her protection...
And then several pages were torn from the diary before it continued.
It was an accident. A product of her temper, her human emotions. They were testing her, a servant told me. Anvil was holding her back physically, Rune with magic. She snapped, and they saw her power. Some denied the possibility, but not my father. He has attained his prize, that which he has always coveted. I will stop him.
~
The plan is forming, but I am unsure whether it will work. I know I cannot defeat him and his guard alone. But I must protect my Freya. I must protect us all. It is the want of power that will consume us. The want.
The script was shaky, many of her words hard to decipher. It felt ominous.
I had no choice but to escape. I would need a distraction to have any chance. I went to the village to find my young Noble. I didn't expect what was there.
On my way in, I found the spot where we had met on so many days. I almost didn't recognize it, bare of growth, the dirt patted down from years of wear. And then I saw him, the man in tattered clothes, hunched over with his face in his hands. He heard me approach and raised his head, the awe all that was recognizable.
"You're back." His voice was trembling, feeble. It was my Noble, young no more. He had been waiting for my return.
He was an outcast of the village—no one believed his tales of magic, the mysterious woman he claimed to meet here. He confessed to spending years trying to find me. He'd thought I was angry with him and that was why I'd not returned. He was afraid to leave this spot in case I were to change my mind and forgive him for whatever he'd done.
I pushed the guilt aside when I recalled why I'd had to come here. For my Freya, to save her. What my father had done to me, to my mother, I would not let him do to her.
I approached the grieving man and reached out to him. As I held his hands, I closed my eyes. I could not watch as I snapped his neck, the way I had with the small boar as my first show of magic to him so long ago. I placated myself by remembering he would soon be gone, his life so short.
I held him until the daylight began to fade then carried his lifeless body into the village as proof they would be attacked and killed, proof they must fight the elves. It was not hard to incite a riot. They were fearful creatures. I convinced them to raid the castle and gave them direction.
And then I returned. I knew I would have time to prepare. They would be slow to gather and make the journey. I was thinking of Noble as I resolved to wear the dress meant for our wedding, with its dramatic shape and deep meaning. I remembered when he'd given it to me, explaining the white stood for innocence. I had stifled a giggle then. I could find no humor now. Yes, it would be fitting.
I knew what was coming, but what I had read so far was much more horrifying than I'd expected. I didn't want to continue. I couldn't believe that I had been so stupid as to forget it was my mother who had destroyed the Northern clans and taken the families from everyone I knew. As they stood protecting me, the betrayal I'd felt before was gone. In its place was a new hurt, a heart-rending sorrow.
They heard my sobs. I was aware of their eyes on me before they uncomfortably turned away again. Chevelle approached me warily as I lay curled in a ball on my blankets, the book positioned in front of me. He tossed it aside, but I no longer cared. He sat behind me and pulled me into his arms, holding me as I wept. It felt more right than anything had been in a long, long time.
I awoke with new resolve. I stood, prepared to make things right, but something was off. The group surrounded me, tense. I glanced at our surroundings but couldn't see why.
And then, from nowhere, I was thrown into the air. I landed hard against my back. I slid down a wall of stone, barely managing to stand when my feet hit earth. Ruby was suddenly in front of me. I threw my hands back to steady myself on the stone barrier behind me. I didn't look to see where I was, though, because just as I'd regained my footing, I heard the howls.
Before the next breath, a new sound—a closer sound—filled my ears: shoosh, shoosh, shoosh. It took longer than it should have to realize they were arrows. My mind couldn't seem to process the scene quickly enough. Before I could distinguish the threats, they changed. The hands I'd splayed against the wall for support were in bonds. I forced myself to look away from Ruby's back, and her arms stretched out defensively, to see what was holding me.
My breath came then, fierce and gasping as panic took over. Long vines were wrapping tightly around my wrists and reaching for my legs. I burned my right wrist free, fighting to reach my sword before they grew back. Large thorns burst from the vines on my legs and pierced my skin like daggers. I barely had the capacity to hope they weren't poison. I sliced at them furiously, but I wasn't fast enough. There was a flash of lightning, though no storm was near.
A vine wrapped my shoulder, jerking me back. I was trapped. I looked to Ruby, but she could not help me anymore. Beyond her, a line of long, flowing robes marched through the mist. They were coming for us.
The sight gave me strength, or courage, or blinding stupidity. I didn't know, but I gave everything I had. I was trapped against the wall, unable to move, but there was one thing I could do.
The sun broke through the clouds, and I saw precisely what I needed. A shadow crossed the ground in front of us as a hawk flew overhead. The corner of my mouth pulled up in a smile as I closed my eyes to join him.
The scene from above was just as incomprehensible. I focused on one thing at a time. Directly below me, I saw Grey. He was caught, wrapped in vines as my own body was, but there were flames circling his feet. I followed his gaze to find his opponent then dove.
I hadn't planned what I was doing, still running on adrenaline. I decided the fastest course of action was pecking the council fighter's eyes out. It worked. He threw his hands up, covering his face, screaming. But he did not attack me. As I rose to find my next target, I saw the wolves. They were also not being attacked and were fighting with no opposition. I remembered what Chevelle had said. They would not kill the animals.
As I laughed, the hawk screeched, and Chevelle and Steed glanced up at the sound. They were fighting, almost back to back, the bodies of council fighters strewn around them. I surveyed the land, searching for a stronger animal to jump to, something more harmful. I ran through my options, but I wasn't able to find anything nearby. Evidently, the fight had cleared the mountain, so it was just the hawk and the horses. I quickly passed through their minds, urging them to stampede before I returned to the sky.
When I entered the bird again, something was wrong. It wasn't only the bird—someone else was there. The shock of it threw me back to my own mind. My eyes shot open, and I scanned the scene again.
I forgot what I was looking for when I recognized a face hooded in a cloak, fighting against her own. Junnie. She stared back at me for one brief moment before she turned to fight some invisible foe.
That moment of shock took the last of the borrowed courage from me, and I drew in, afraid as my body remained encaged in vine and thorns. My legs were wet with blood, arms deadened to the pain and cold. I became aware of an unbroken chant, a voice I didn't recognize, and I turned, stunned again, as I saw Asher. He wasn't in the battle. He stood back, seemingly a bystander as the words flowed from his barely moving lips. Then he ran.
Confusion hit me again as Junnie chased him.
Ruby's whip cracked in front of me, and I knew the advance had gotten too far. And I was tied to a wall. Why haven't they killed me already? I waited for the flames, but what came instead was far more excruciating.
I expected to collapse as my body disconnected from my mind, but the vines held me in place. I saw a few final flickers of the battle before my eyes looked toward the sky, rolling back into my head. I had no way of forming a coherent thought, or I might have been afraid.