Frey (The Frey Saga, #1)(46)
He slumped after his surrender, confident the worst was over. I reached the sword tip back to his leg and made another incision to release the snake. I heard a low voice. “Kill him.”
I didn’t know who it had been intended for but I still held the sword in my hand. The sword I was supposed to slice someone’s head off with. This was likely my only chance for practice. I knew I’d not more than a moment before their magic broke him. I didn’t hesitate, I just pulled my arm up and swung hard, backhand. The blade cut clean and his head rolled backward, hitting the ground with a sickening thud.
I looked away.
“He didn’t mean you, Frey.” Steed’s voice was low, wary.
I turned, trying to avoid the bloody vision in my peripheral. The group was gawking at me, surprised, at the least. I looked at Chevelle, the trackers words in his hand. “Okay… let’s try it.”
He was staring at me, disbelief more than evident as he shot back his answer. “No, Frey.”
Ruby spoke up. “It could be a trick. He’ll need to try it on someone else first.” Someone else? Who else was bound? She could see I was prepared to argue. “It isn’t safe.”
“And if it doesn’t work?” She didn’t answer. I nodded. I remembered the story of her father then, how he’d been released after the fairy’s death.
I faced Chevelle. “If the council member who bound me dies, then will I be released?”
He plainly regretted what he'd divulged that morning. “Yes.”
“Then we kill them.” And if we don’t know which ones? “We kill them all.” I glanced around the clearing. They were all watching me with changed expressions. They were revering me and I realized how they had looked at me before, since we had met... uncertain.
Anvil was smiling.
A movement at the tree line caught everyone’s attention. It was Chevelle’s guest, Asher. He stood in the shadows, staff in hand. He inclined his head once toward Chevelle and turned, a long braid of hair whipping behind him as he disappeared into the brush. The group seemed relieved, happy even.
Anvil thumped his right hand, balled into a fist, on the left side of his chest. It was directed at me. Grey followed, repeating the action and adding a single nod. Ruby clasped her hands and bounced twice with excitement. A tandem wolf howl sounded in the distance.
Chapter Thirteen
Dear Diary
The headless corpse was disposed of and the group was bustling around the clearing. I slid my sword carefully back in its sheath… Ruby had been right, that thing really was sharp. I hadn’t understood the flourish of activity until Ruby grabbed my arm to conduct me. “Come on, we have to get packed.”
She dragged me along as she rushed back to her house, excited. She was throwing things around her room, sorting and gathering. I didn’t really have anything to assemble. I had the one pack I’d acquired months ago, nothing in it but that stupid white dress and the pouch… the pouch. I hurried from the room, explaining to Ruby I would be getting ready for the trip.
“I already put your pack in the front room for Chevelle.”
“Oh, well, I’ll just check it. Thanks.” I found the pack with some of Chevelle’s things. As I started to open it, I knocked one of his bags over and went to pick it up. The flap was loose and a piece of fabric hung out. I thought I recognized it. I glanced over my shoulder to be sure Ruby wasn’t watching and then opened it to find it was the fabric that had covered the package she handed to Chevelle our first day here. The package he traded my stone for. I pulled the material back and found a leather-bound book. I was afraid Ruby would catch me so I slid the book into my bag and went to my room, closing the door behind me.
I’d already been in trouble for stealing one book but this was technically mine, it was swapped for my ruby. But I was careful anyway. I pretended to lie down and placed the book where I could quickly cover it with a pillow if I were caught. I removed the fabric and ran my fingers over the dark leather on the cover, tracing a scripted V etched there. Vattier? I opened the book to find the first pages had been torn from the bindings and then flipped through it, seeing several sections were damaged, some torn, some by water. I sighed. Wasn’t that the way of things? I went back to the beginning and started reading.
Today was the solstice celebration for the fairies. They are such idiots. They got all hopped up on dust and raided the castle. We had to kill like six of them before they sobered up enough to reason with. Then dad killed two more just for fun. He said he had to prove a point but I could tell he enjoyed it.
I straightened a little and blinked, uncertain I had actually read what I thought I'd read. What is this? I shook my head and continued.
My stupid sister was mad because he didn’t let her help. She started to throw a tantrum and he stiffened her tongue. It was stuck like that for hours. I laughed so hard I kept having to wipe the tears from my eyes. She tried to yell at me and it came out like “Thut uhp! Thop iht!” which made me laugh harder and she got so mad she screamed and busted a bunch of glass.
I kept reading, enthralled. It seemed to be a journal, written by a girl, but I had no idea who. Chevelle’s family? Why would he have a girl’s diary? It was filled with pointless stories as far as I could tell but after a few pages the writing matured and it seemed to jump several years. I wished it was dated.