Pieces of Eight (The Frey Saga, #2)(28)

It was a quiet ride throughout the day. Once, I heard something pass between Ruby and Chevelle but, despite the fact that my hearing was better than before, I couldn't understand the whisper. I was afraid to speak again so I merely watched our surroundings, studied the passing rocks, said goodbye to the greens and trees.

I missed my birds.

We finally stopped for the evening and it was much later than usual. I was paranoid it was because of something I'd said and I had trouble stopping the images of the dream from making a continuous circuit through my thoughts. Steed brought an elk in though and I managed distraction for the entire time it cooked and the few short minutes it took me to devour my portion.

After dinner, Chevelle was nowhere to be seen. I was surprised when the wolves showed up after dark. I lay waiting for sleep when the flicker of the firelight caught their silver fur as they sauntered into the camp. Their eyes roamed over each of us before their massive frames settled onto the ground and they relaxed into sleep. I found myself falling with them, more secure in their presence.

Consequently, when the dreams came they didn't have the mood of nightmares. I was assured, the strong, certain Elfreda that I sometimes knew. She smiled as the cloaks circled, beckoned them on. She faced the panther with courage, defied her lord. And she laughed at Rune, fearless in the face of his force. Until the dream focused again on the mass he concentrated on, the vague figure that lay on the floor. She was powerless to act, suddenly weak. She stared fixedly and the shape took form. I could see him now, his face contorted in agony. In answer to my wordless plea, there was a flash of light, a surge of electricity, and the torture ceased momentarily. I could see his rigid body ease a fraction and I was grateful. Grateful for Anvil having intervened and grateful for the broken entity that lay so near to me, he who signified so much...

I almost choked on the breath I sucked in. My eyes darted around the camp, seeking him out, but he was nowhere to be found. It was as if I needed to see him, look upon his face here, not in the dream, to be positive it was real. But I knew, even without seeing, I knew.

Someone approached and I sat up, shaken, to find it was Anvil. He knelt beside me as he inquired on my condition and I surprised us both by wrapping my arms around his massive chest in a hug. "Anvil," I gushed, the appreciation pouring through me even now. He patted my back and then I felt his shoulders come up in a shrug. I looked behind me to see who he was gesturing to and found Ruby and Chevelle were approaching the camp. I awkwardly pulled my still trembling arms loose and wrapped them around myself. I should have realized Ruby was gone when Anvil had come to me.

I'd desperately wanted to find him moments ago and now that he was only feet from me, I couldn't bring myself to meet Chevelle's eyes. The rush of emotion I had felt in the dream was swimming through me, the image of his pained face, his besieged body, stealing my focus. I forced my mind to accept them into the jumble of memories and thought and fix them in place so I could function again. I felt a tear roll down my cheek and Ruby was there, brushing it away. She didn't ask this time, she just sat beside me and waited. I was overwhelmed for an instant and found myself clinging to her as I had Anvil but eventually the chaos settled.

It was dawn by that point and I found myself sharing breakfast with them once more, though not fully enjoying it as I had the previous morning because of the ill feeling in the pit of my stomach.

We were back on the horses in short order and I felt we must have been close to the castle now. Dark gray rocks spotted the mountain and the haze was beginning to thicken. And while I felt we were close, I really had no idea, so it was strange to me when we rode through a familiar pass. I slowed as I surveyed the land, trying to shake that eerie feeling that I'd been there before, but it didn't shake. In fact, it only worsened. I found that I knew what was coming, how the path would curve just so past the tall jagged rock that slanted toward us, how the shadows fell in the crevices where the rocks met, all of it. But I had no memory here, I was not even sure where here was.

I'd started to turn, almost automatically, off our path when Chevelle called to me, requesting that I please pay attention. I stared back at him blank-faced, not wanting to argue that I had been paying attention, and he explained that we were nearing the castle and I would need to ride amid the group. That bit of information was enough to derail me from wherever the impulse had been taking me, but upon seeing Ruby cut off from the group, even the idea of the unknown route had been forgotten.

Per Chevelle's instruction, Anvil and Grey had fallen behind me, leaving Steed and Chevelle to the front. Anvil was closest to me, near my side, so I turned to him. "Where's Ruby going?"

"The castle, same as we."

Confusion was plain on my face, I didn't have to ask why she'd left us.

"She is taking an alternate pass, as it is midday."

My expression didn't clear with understanding but apparently he didn't feel the need to clarify further. "Anvil, why is Ruby taking a different way because it's the middle of the day?"

This time, he uncharacteristically used a low tone as his lips twisted into a mocking smile. "Truth be told, Elfreda, your previous self was not so keen on fairies."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"It is unfair to place my rendering of the events upon you, but suffice it to say, you dealt with them quite sportingly." His laugh was almost wicked.

And then the memory that came to mind was not my own, but that of my mother's, her telling in the diary of her father, Asher, killing the fairies for fun. I felt the blood drain from my face. Surely, though, I'd not his inclination. Surely.