Rise of the Seven (6 page)

All sound ceased but the flickering of
torchlight.

Rothus was a prideful man who held grudges at
his chest with no notion of release. He hated fey as they hated
iron. What I didn’t know was whether he held that hatred above his
current existence. The silence keyed him in on his mistake and he
pushed his chair back to take a knee, but he didn’t exactly recant.
“They have no place among us.”

“
As you have no place to
dispute the pronouncement of your lord.” I paused for a heartbeat,
and then, “Guard, acquire your price.”

I sat casually, my obligation resolved.

From my periphery, I saw Grey flinch and
feared he would intervene. I’d not thought to gauge his response to
Ruby’s appearance, as it was, or the risk she was about to take. It
was another mistake on my part, and I quietly added it to the list.
But Steed caught him in time with a gesture so minute, I was
confident no one else saw it. Besides, they were all watching the
fire fairy in guard’s garb cross the room to her target.

Wearing a blank expression, Ruby walked
coolly through the crowd to stand behind him. On bended knee, he
was nearly as tall as she and I was grateful he’d shown at least
that respect. She pulled a dagger from her waist and grabbed hold
of his braid. The whole of the hall tensed until a swift move
sliced the braid and a crop of black hair fell forward around his
face. It was incredibly insulting, but far from what the other
guests had expected. Without a word, she walked back to her place,
a firm grip on the dagger in one hand and braid in the other.

I’d given none cause to dispute the action,
and the fact that Ruby hadn’t used fire in her revenge might keep
her heritage from topic when the story was repeated. The northern
elves tended to enjoy relaying the deed, but didn’t much care to
dwell on complicated reasons. Ruby was complicated enough, but I
was afraid far too remarkable to not become a target herself.

Another round of wine was served and the
crowd eventually settled into the customary din of
conversation.

I had decided to give them a bit longer
before the display of power when an exchange caught my attention.
Dagan of Camber was a little too far in his drink, speaking noisily
of “before.” Dagan had clout. He held dominance over many here, and
some believed fear of his power had kept the region from going
completely lawless in my absence. I wanted no conflict with him,
but his words were irritating me unreasonably. I resolved to go
ahead with the next step to shut him up. And that was when it all
went out the window.

Looking back, it was hard to recall exactly
what he said that caused my anger to explode. Something about
Chevelle that went right through me. What happened next would
likely be repeated through history. I was fairly certain I’d only
intended to shatter the cup in front of him, just to get his
attention.

Instead, a deafening blast sounded as every
cup on every table in the entire hall burst into pieces at once,
sending shards of pewter glassware flying to clink against walls,
splinter into tables, and generally shower down on everything,
excepting myself, which pretty much gave away the source of the
flare. The fact that I was staring at Dagan clued everyone who’d
not heard his comments in on the cause.

The room fell silent once again and the drip
of wine from table and stone seemed amplified by it. Red splattered
my guests as if they had attended a massacre and not a feast. The
final few who were still taking in the scene came to join the
others in their gawking of me.

I realized I was standing, which was slightly
disconcerting considering I couldn’t remember doing it. I glanced
down to see my own wineglass sat undisturbed, my person and all
that surrounded me in an arm’s length radius untouched by the
destruction that blanketed the rest of the hall.

There was no question I had instilled fear in
them. My task was complete and I didn’t have much taste left for
festivities. I leaned down, lifted the glass in salute to my guard,
and turned to walk casually from the room.

When I reached the corridor, I allowed myself
to breathe again. I walked toward the study, thinking of the faces
of my guard, sprayed red and numb with shock. I kept walking, past
my chambers, past the commonly used rooms, up the stairs and out
the window to my perch on the roof. The wind was cutting, but I
stood to face it.

“
Tell me that wasn’t your
plan,” Chevelle said from behind me.

I choked on a laugh. I’d been standing in the
wind so long my eyes watered and my nose and cheeks burned. I
turned to look at him, relieved to find him clean and out of
uniform. He untied his cloak and stepped up behind me on the small
platform. When he reached around to blanket me with the cloak, the
warmth felt so good I held his arm to wrap around me. I felt him
relax into the embrace and I snuggled my face into the cloak to
thaw. I breathed in his scent and then straightened, hoping he
hadn’t noticed.

“
I had a good plan,” I said
as we stared out into the night. An agreeable rumble vibrated in
his chest. It reminded me of a purring cat and I smiled. “I don’t
suppose it matters now.”

“
They were convinced,” he
assured me.

Chevelle wasn’t like me. He possessed a
nearly unshakable calm and considerable patience. After all we’d
been through, there was no question he would have taken revenge on
Asher. Everyone knew that. What they couldn’t guess was the
backlash it would cause. What traps Asher had set for him. If he
were to fail, what that would have meant for me. If he were to
succeed, what that would have meant for the realm. Chevelle had
understood that. He’d kept me from acting rashly, a reckless
vengeance that would have likely gotten me killed. I would have
retaliated with passion. He could wait.

And he was right. There was a difference
between courage and suicide. Honor wasn’t much good to the
dead.

“
Chevelle?”

“
Hmm,” he purred. I
shivered. He could think it was from cold.

“
How did you know I’d kill
Asher?”

He stiffened. “We didn’t.”

I felt my face contort, but couldn’t decipher
what they’d actually planned when we’d confronted him among his
guard.

Chevelle sighed. “When we found that he’d set
bindings on you, we had to allow him to live.”

They’d made a deal.

“
He’d been collecting new
powers. He’d learned to create a binding that would not release
upon his death.”

Which explained why Chevelle had been
studying bindings instead of just hunting the council.

“
When council attacked, it
set so much more into motion. Francine was to be taken, and you,
but Junnie stepped in. She forced their hand with an arrangement no
one could refuse by council law. Council bound you both, for their
safety, and permitted you to live. Under their watch.”

“
I can’t remember,” I said.
“Everything else. But not the bindings. Was it long?”

“
No, the entire process was
very quick. When council descended, Asher set his spell and ran.
And then you were gone.” He faltered, then corrected. “In the
village.”

I had been gone. And it had seemed a very
long time.

“
He watched you, to be
certain you weren’t fundamentally affected by the castings.
Apparently, he saw enough of your old self there to approve. Once
council was disposed of, we expected him to release you. He wanted
you back as his second, under his control.”

“
So, when I stabbed
him...”

“
Not exactly the
plan.”

“
Wow.”

A short strangled laugh escaped him, the kind
mingled with relief and disbelief. We sat in silence for a few
moments, recalling Asher’s last words. The words that would release
the bindings. The words that would direct his power to me. If it
hadn’t been for some messed-up sense of pride on his part, I’d
still be bound. Trapped in my own mind. Or dead.

“
There is something you
should know, Frey.”

I waited.

“
Junnie saved your life. She
protected you. She fought for you.”

“
But?”

“
We are not certain she
meant to keep Asher alive long enough to unbind you.”

I nodded, forcing myself to ignore the
tightness in my chest. “All right.” I took a deep breath. “But
she’s still done nothing to warrant my enmity.” There was no way to
prove she had intended to keep me bound now. Though it was
possible. If nothing else, she might have only been trying to keep
her family alive. How many of the council members who were
slaughtered had been her blood?

Fannie had been responsible for many of those
deaths. Junnie had saved her, and Fannie, as she escaped her bonds
and regained pieces of her old self, had slipped into madness,
reaping revenge on those who had trapped her. She had cut down her
own family, Junnie’s family. My family. A small voice whispered
that council’s resistance to Junnie was now shrunk by half, but I
choked it off. Fannie was dead. Asher was dead. Junnie was all that
was left.

I sighed and turned from Chevelle’s embrace
to face him, handing his cloak back. “I’d like to meet with the
guard in the morning.”

He stepped back, straight and dignified, and
gave a curt, acquiescent nod. I felt like such an ass.

Chapter Eight

Excursion

They were scattered about the study,
patiently waiting for me. It still annoyed me I was the only one
who needed so much rest. Ruby’s hair was pulled back, exposing the
points of her ears. Not entirely fey, but close enough.

“
What news?” I asked before
they had a chance to take their places at the table.

Anvil reported. “Word has already flooded the
valleys. There were but a few minor protests south of Camber. No
news of the reaction of the rogues.”

“
We will ride out today.
Silence the dissidents.” A few eyebrows rose. “Grey, Chevelle,
Rhys, with me.” I glanced at Steed. “Ruby will need to lay low for
at least three days. Please attend her.” I wasn’t finished, but
Ruby was bloodying her lip waiting to respond. I let
her.

“
Three days?”

“
One for word to reach the
outlying camps. One for them to form a plan. One to implement it.
If they do not strike by then, they will not bother. At which
point, and only then, will you be allowed free rein.”

Her eyes narrowed on me and I decided to nip
the rest of my fairy problems in the bud.

I turned to Grey. “Until the fourth day, she
will be Steed’s charge.” He looked like I’d slapped him. “You put
us all at risk last night, but none more than Ruby. Had you stepped
in to protect her, she would have no power under the sign of the
guard.

“
When we return,” I
continued, “Grey will lead a scouting mission for information on
the boy. Someone will have seen him or his silver.” And I would
need to find the wolves.

Mention of the assassin had brought a
stillness to the room. I struggled for a way to express my thanks
to this group that meant so much to me. They had brought me back
from nothing, had risked their lives for this. Everything seemed
inadequate, but the silence was growing too loud.

“
You have done us
proud.”

Grey and Rhys were mounted and waiting at the
gate when I reached the stable. Chevelle stood outside, holding the
reins of both horses. It seemed like people were always waiting on
me. I picked up my pace.

Chevelle handed my reins over with a wry
smile. “Your Steed.”

I bit my cheek and swung up into the saddle
as quick as he. Side by side, I replied in a hushed tone, “I am
surprised you’ve let me keep him.”

The smile dropped from his face. “Yes. Well,
I considered replacing him. But, in truth, he is one of the nicest
mounts in the land.” He winced at his own words and kicked his
horse up to gallop.

I swallowed a giggle and joined him.

We were quiet as we made our way from the
castle. When we’d cleared any foot traffic, Grey and Rhys rode
ahead as sentry.

I still felt guilty about berating Grey so
publicly.

Chevelle saw me watching. “You wounded his
honor.”

“
It was right.”

He eyed me knowingly before returning his
gaze to the mountain. “I heard what Dagan said.”

I flinched. “That doesn’t mean I wasn’t
wrong.”

He didn’t respond.

Leave it to Chevelle to stand up for him. It
was hardly the same thing.

It was my first outing since our return from
Asher’s lair. Any of the guard could have made this showing, but
I’d wanted to see the mountain myself. The dark rock had been my
home, these pathways my playground. I wanted to see what had
changed, what had been lost. I needed to know how I would be
received by the all, not just the clan leaders.

After the massacre, there had been no one in
control. It had been known Asher had lived and though he had been
in hiding, I supposed fear of his return had been heavy in the
minds of those who might take advantage. I, as his second, would
have been regent if not in a sort of hiding of my own. As it was,
neither of us ruling but neither confirmed dead, the goings-on
continued day by day. The staff cared for the castle, the grounds,
completed their tasks as usual. It was not as if anyone wanted to
lose their positions or honor, let alone their lives if Asher were
to reappear.

He might have been a harsh ruler, leading by
fear and control, but he was Lord. He was respected. He was obeyed.
Now that he was gone, his half-breed granddaughter who had never
wanted to rule didn’t quite strike fear into the hearts of her
people. And there was only one thing they hated more than fairies.
Humans.