Frey (11 page)

It was days before I spoke to Chevelle again,
but he didn’t seem to mind the lack of conversation. He just rode
as he always did, quiet, with intermittent glances in each
direction, and as if he were traveling alone. He hadn’t appeared to
notice my behavior at all. I finally broke the silence one evening
as we navigated a narrow pass.

“
How long will we be
riding?” I wasn’t specific in my question, not wanting to reveal I
had no idea where we were going. He'd been under the false
impression he'd had to take me, I wasn't about to mess that up and
be dragged back to the village after everything that had happened.
My horse quickened its pace to ride alongside his and I made a
mental note to learn how to control it on my own. The constricted
path forced us close together, our stirrups and legs occasionally
touching as we rode. He nodded at my hand and I held it out, palm
up.

He indicated a spot on one of the mountains.
“We are here.”

I tried not to show my disappointment. The
information hadn’t really helped because I didn’t know where I
started on the map or where it was taking us. At least I knew we
were closer.

When we came through the pass our path
widened but the horses didn’t separate as I had expected them to. I
took the chance. “How do I control Steed?”

I could see the humor in his eyes at my
question but he kept a straight face. “Just think of where you want
him to go and lead his head so.”

I concentrated on turning his head left and
we were instantly spinning, the unexpected twirl throwing me half
from my saddle.

Chevelle caught my arm and righted me on my
now still horse. “Maybe not so severe next time.”

I flushed. I focused on his head again,
turning it back to our course, and gave him a small nudge with my
heels.

I was cautious after that but it became
easier to control his movement as we rode. I practiced guiding him,
eventually even maneuvering him back and forth between the rocks
and small brush on our way. But I was still afraid to try kneeling
when we stopped for the evening, imagining him rolling on top of me
if I tried. I slid down and stretched my legs, glad for a rest
after the hours of tensing every time the horse changed direction.
The evenings were cooler now and I ran my hands over my arms to
warm them.

I started as black swirled around me, and
then realized Chevelle had thrown a cloak over my shoulders. He
turned in front of me to hook the clasp. His dark eyes were
piercing as he stood so close, looking into mine. My heart
stuttered as he started to lean toward me. Our faces were
unbearably close and he was still moving in. Just before his face
touched mine, it slid alongside my cheek, his mouth at my ear. I
froze as he spoke low, his breath on my neck sending a shiver
through me. “Stay still.”

In a flash he was gone. He
moved so fast it took me a second to catch up with what had
happened. He had pulled the hood of the cloak over my head and was
standing several feet in front of me, facing away. I focused on
him, trying to understand when I saw two men come into view. I
hadn’t seen them before; they must have been concealed, or
camouflaged by magic as I had been several days ago. They were
dressed in long robes and I recognized the tassels hanging from
their necks.
Council
members
. I wasn't familiar with the elves
though; they mustn’t have been from the village.

As they approached Chevelle
cautiously, I examined their insignia but remained unable to
identify them.
Even if they aren’t from the
village, they are still council members, maybe they can unbind
me
. I hastily decided to seek their help,
or force them somehow into joining Chevelle in releasing my
memories, but when I started toward them I remembered my warning to
be still.

“
She’s not going back.”
Chevelle’s uncompromising tone caught my attention. I pushed the
hood off my head to hear their conversation better.

The one on the left glared at me as he
hissed, “You’re protecting her when you know what she’s capable
of?”

I flinched at his words as I
scrutinized him. His robes were more ornate and he wore numerous
tassels of interwoven colors.
Grand
Council?

I studied the other council
member. He acted as if he did not know I was present, staring
directly at Chevelle when he spoke. “Her mother slaughtered your
clan, your
family
.
Why release this terror–”

His words were cut short as his face
contorted in pain. I looked to Chevelle, his back was stiff, every
visible muscle tense as he faced them. The second councilman was
still suffering. When blood poured from his nose I gasped. Chevelle
threw me a quick glance and I couldn’t catch my breath - his eyes
were as black as onyx. He was focused again on the men as they
eased away, the first helping the other by his arm, both bowing
slightly toward Chevelle as they stepped backward, the injured one
occasionally stumbling. He stood facing them until they spun and
disappeared, and then he turned to me.

As I saw the look on his
face I instantly knew the cause of the devastation. I still
couldn’t remember but I knew what I had heard was true, my mother
had killed his family, his entire clan. He was there in the village
in my dreams, in my memories. He saved me. His family was there as
well. The people running and screaming and dying, his clan. I knew
the cloaks now, too. Grand Council. The council was circling my
mother
to stop her
.
She was killing the northern clans. I didn’t know why. And I didn’t
know how I knew, but I was certain.

I suddenly didn’t want my memories back, what
I had was already too much. I couldn’t fathom the pain he had
suffered, surely a hundred times mine at the loss of my mother. His
mother… his father… each member of his family? How much loss had he
endured? Tears were streaming down my face.

Chevelle took a step toward
me and I was suddenly fearful. I recoiled slightly.
He must
despise
me
. He nodded in
understanding and dipped his head slightly as he walked away. He
constructed a quick shelter and stood back, allowing me to close
myself away.

I fell to the bed and wrapped myself in the
cloak. He surely loathed me. I thought back to the scenarios I had
envisioned after the memories of my mother being killed came back
to me… what I would do to those men if I were to ever find them.
Now I remembered the truth, they were saving the North.

I couldn’t say I didn’t
still want revenge though. What he must feel toward me for taking
so much from him. My mind was reclassifying every look he'd ever
given me, everything that had happened since I’d met him. Why he
didn’t look at me as I lay under the tree in the meadow, explaining
why Fannie had struck me. Why I wanted to learn transfer
magic…
to get my mother’s
things
. The look he gave the pendant on my
neck…
my mother’s
pendant
. Yes, of course he’d volunteered to
be my watcher. He was sure I needed a watcher. I had taken
everything from him.

My thoughts were beginning
to muddle as my mother and my dreams and my own life were twisting.
I still couldn’t retrieve my memories, I only had the last long
years, which seemed a haze now. Really, I only had the days since
Chevelle walked through Junnie’s door. I thought of how I had
cursed him when I found he was my watcher. The hate in my voice
when I demanded my memories back. The memories of his
family’s
murder
. My
mind writhed with anguish through the night. As I emerged from the
shelter late the next morning, I was resigned. I would continue my
journey with him and let him return me to the council for
sentencing without resistance.

I found him sitting on a rock facing the door
of the shelter a few feet away, distress apparent in his
features.

“
Thank you.” I indicated the
shelter with a tip of my head.

He nodded but his face
didn’t quite return to the serene mask it usually wore. My stomach
knotted and I realized I hadn’t eaten. He understood as I placed my
hand there, a fire lit beside the rock as he strode off to find
food. I sat close, warming myself as I waited for him to return. A
moment later, he was back and breakfast was roasting over the
flames. We ate in silence and mounted the horses as we had each day
before but it was obvious nothing was the same.
How could it ever be?
I was racked
with guilt as we made our way up the mountain. I rode behind him,
glad at least I could control my own horse now.

I paid more attention to our surroundings,
since it had become so uncomfortable to look at him. Small patches
of snow had started to appear and the vegetation was a darker
green. Occasionally the sun would break through the mist, making me
squint, and I would appreciate the calmer, hazier atmosphere.
Gloom, as they called it at home, in the usually sunny village
where I would spend my eternity. I wondered where I would be kept
as a captive, if there would be windows, if I was unfit for public
view.

He picked up speed after we passed through
the more difficult part of the trail and then we rode too fast the
rest of the day. I continuously struggled to keep up with him on
our rough path. I was sure I knew the cause of his hurry. He’d
decided he wanted to get this journey over with, end it and return
me to the council for my punishment, to be done with me.

We rode long into the evening, well past
sunset, and I wondered if he would stop at all. I was contemplating
possible ways to sleep on a horse when we finally stopped. We were
riding through a small pass, the moonlight barely lighting our way,
and Chevelle’s horse disappeared. My head swiveled, searching for
any sign of them, when my own horse turned beneath an overhang and
stopped beside his, so dark I hadn’t seen it until we were there.
Chevelle tossed a small flame, giving us enough light to dismount.
The horses walked to one corner as we stood in the other.

“
Frey.” Chevelle turned to
me as he spoke. “Yesterday… the council trackers…”

Trackers?
I tried to focus on what he was saying and not let
my mind run wild with the new information.

“
They will send someone… for
what I have done.”

I thought of the councilman’s face, distorted
in pain.

“
We should continue your
training.”

“
Training?” I could hear the
dread in my question.

“
Practice. You should be
able to protect yourself.”

I remembered his words from
before the revelation that ended my magic lessons.
Fighters
. A chill ran down
my spine as I nodded in acceptance.

“
We will work again at first
light and possibly as we ride.”

As we ride? How serious was
this?
I didn’t want to answer my own
question. I was a fugitive. And now it appeared Grand Council was
looking for me. I had no idea what my punishment would be. This
wasn’t the village. This would be far worse than anything High
Council would have planned.

“
What will they do… if they…
if I can’t
protect
myself?”

His face was grim. He didn’t intend to reply
and I suddenly didn’t want him to.

We settled onto the floor of the small den,
our backs against the wall, the rock overhang blocking the
moon.

“
That is my flame,” Chevelle
said, “try to extinguish it.”

And my training began.

Chapter Nine

Ruby

Early the next morning, even before first
light as promised, Chevelle woke me for training. Gone were the
games we had played. These lessons were intense and stressful, on
my part anyway. I’d been unable to generate magic on task so he’d
started lunging at me with weapons, sticks, fire, forcing me to
respond to protect myself. After each attack, he would come right
back at me and if I tried to repeat a tactic for defense, he would
overpower my magic and push me to find a new maneuver.

It wasn’t long before I
became winded. “Mount up,” he announced. When I started to climb on
my horse, he shot off like an arrow, almost knocking me to the
ground. I glared at Chevelle but he was ignoring me, already atop
his own horse and starting on his way.
Grrr
…

I pulled Steed’s head around with magic and
pressed him back to me, climbed up, and clicked my heels hard to
catch Chevelle. He was riding fast again and I was not looking
forward to the day, sure it would be worse than the already
miserable morning. I rode up beside him, planning a snide remark
about the trick, but was distracted by a black stone in his hand.
It was odd shaped and just smaller than the size of my balled fist.
Onyx, I thought, though I’d never seen the stone that big.

He looked at me as we rode. “Be prepared at
all times. This will come at you from every direction. It is the
only way you can learn to respond quickly. You need to use your
defense as instinct.”

I really didn’t want to play anymore. But
before I could protest, a black rock was hurtling toward my face.
My hand jerked up to swat it away and my arm stopped as if it hit a
wall. The rock slammed into me, I was fairly certain my nose was
bleeding from the impact. I tried to slow my horse but apparently I
no longer had control of him.