Pieces of Eight (The Frey Saga, #2)(2)

I felt my mouth pull up in a smile as I rolled the thought around my mind.

“Looks like the cat finally got her canary,” Steed teased as he eyed my big goofy grin. A large hawk flew in with him and landed on a pedestal beside the throne. It must have been a pet; I remembered it being in some of the other memories, the ones that weren’t quite mine. Though it couldn’t have been the same hawk. I didn’t know how many years they lived, but I'd certainly been gone for far too long for that.

He was still looking at me, waiting for a reply while I was lost in thought.

“Steed,” I gushed. I hadn’t quite gotten used to the intense need I felt for the group and I hadn’t seen him for a while. He looked quite pleased at my response so I tried to cover my enthusiasm. “You’ve been gone, and Anvil. I thought you’d left.”

He laughed. “Afraid not. But we will be leaving soon, just for a bit.”

Despite my best efforts, the disappointment was plain on my face. I flopped down on the chair, forgetting it was a throne in the moment.

He stepped forward, close enough to brush my cheek with his fingers. “Frey, someone has to get the rest of your magic.”

My stomach twisted. I knew what he meant. They’d be hunting down the other council members, the ones who had bound me. They would have to kill them to release their hold on me. I couldn’t bear to see us separated, our group of eight. “But I don’t want you to go.” For some reason, that made him smile.

“What would you have us do, Frey?” Chevelle’s voice from the doorway made me jump. And also intensely aware of how close Steed was. I thought it had been rhetorical, but he waited for my reply. I wondered if this was because of who I'd been before, who I was supposed to be now. It didn’t feel like I had any authority. And I didn’t feel like that other Frey, adored and spoiled, second to the throne. But that thought made me realize where I was sitting, what my chair symbolized.

I huffed out a frustrated breath. What would be acceptable? I knew I wanted the bindings released, I knew I needed my magic and my memories, now more than ever, but I couldn’t stomach the idea of staying here while they left. “Why can’t we all go?”

Chevelle nearly rolled his eyes but caught himself. “Frey, we just got you back here. We can’t leave and not have anyone here to keep things in order. The North will be back in chaos in a short time. We’ve just given people hope.”

Hope. I laughed. They had hope because of me? Steed and Chevelle simultaneously gave me the look that I never got used to, though I'd seen it regularly enough. So we can’t leave the castle without giving them doubts? A thought occurred to me and Steed’s comment echoed in my mind… cats and canaries. I sat back in the chair and closed my eyes, falling into the mind of the hawk. It was the one magic the binding had never taken from me, the one talent that made me unique. I flew from the castle and over the mountain, searching for what I needed.

I was aware of Chevelle arguing with Steed. “Why do you insist on making this more complicated?”

“She’s not as weak as you think.”

“You know the bindings are dangerous. And you’ve seen what the stress can do to her.”

“She’s safer with us.”

“Is she?” Chevelle’s voice was ice.

“They won’t hurt her.”

“You know, I can still hear you,” I said, a moment before my eyes flicked open. I could tell by their expressions they had not known.

I stood and walked down the steps in front of the throne. “It doesn’t matter now. I’ve taken care of it.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Chevelle’s face turn to anger before I walked from the room. I picked up my pace.

I found one of the servants to guide me to my room. I was fairly certain her name was Ena, though I couldn't be sure because she looked peculiarly similar to another of the servants (whose name I could not remember at all) with their long dark hair and sharp features. I'd seen a number of servants moving about the castle during the weeks since I'd woken but I hadn't stopped to examine them. Not that I wasn't interested, but I'd noticed their gazes drop as I met their eyes or felt as if they'd found a new task just as I'd taken note of their presence. It seemed awkward for some reason. And even if I didn't recognize them, it wasn't as if they didn't know me. The castle staff was in on the secret, though not formally. The details weren’t explained but they had seen clearly enough. No one had been worried about them though, they had proven their loyalty by staying in the empty castle, waiting for their lords to return.

I felt a flush of irritation when Ena stopped outside my door and I kept walking at least a half dozen more steps before I noticed. How could I still not have any idea where it was? And why couldn't I simply follow her instead of having to be led from behind?

The lost feeling wasn’t any better after I was inside. Sure, from there I could tell it was the room I’d been sleeping in, but it didn’t feel like home. Not that the tree I’d lived in would now, either. I sighed. Sleeping outside had begun to feel like home. How strange.

I ran a finger over the table by the door on my way past. It was near bare, a few books of no interest, an empty marble dish, a rather plain jeweled pin in a style I couldn't imagine ever liking. There wasn't much of anything personal in the room at all. I wondered if someone had removed my things, maybe in the years I was gone. Or perhaps this was all I had. The nightstand held a worn assortment of short, thin blades and a boot clip, and I avoided examining anything further. I passed the large bed draped with sheer silks and mounded with pillows, heading to the window instead to look out, over the mountain.