Pieces of Eight (The Frey Saga, #2)(45)

"You changed my clothes while I was sleeping?" I asked. "That's weird."

And then I remembered falling, well, nearly falling since Chevelle had caught me just in time, and retching violently into the rocks at my feet. "Thanks Ruby," I said as I leaned back to my pillows, certain a change of clothes was the least of it, she'd probably had to wash the contents of my stomach off along withI sat up suddenly, heaving over the edge of the bed, but there was nothing left to give. They rushed closer, despite the threat of vomit, and waited for my response. But what could I say? It had been clear enough, the revolting horror inside theI stopped short. "Where was I?" No one answered right away. "What was that place?"

"I was unaware of it," Chevelle said finally. "It must have been a site shared with you by Asher." My face twisted at his reply.

I'd barely examined the room, but what I had seen was no mere burrow or cave. There had been a well-built chamber just inside, doors off that led to at least two separate quarters. It was dim, but the stones were smooth and the space clean. Except for the blood.

The image of the carcasses rose to the surface and I couldn't stop myself from seeing the hands again. I didn't know why they were so important, why they'd kept stealing my focus, unless it was simply that my subconscious didn't want to see the rest of the picture, the mangled, torn, destroyed bodies. But the hands were intact, the fingers curled loosely, skin discolored but pale, caked lightly with dark, dried blood. It had been apparent that one pair was male and the other, more disturbing, petite set of hands were clearly a woman's. I could still see the delicate bracelet that hung, undamaged, around her tiny wrist.

"Who were they?" I asked.

"Deimos," Chevelle replied tentatively. I felt my chest tighten at the name, but couldn't understand why. He could see the question in my eyes. "He was a member of Asher's guard."

I steeled myself against the wave of unease. "And the girl?" I asked.

He seemed surprised by my observation. "We do not know."

I was certain there was more to his answer but kept on. "What happened to them?"

He hesitated and though I was confident I knew, I had to hear him say it, so I waited. I could feel a cool prickle run over my skin before he'd even spoken. "It seems to be an animal attack."

A movement at the door made me jump but it was only Anvil. He gave Chevelle a pointed look and then his gaze followed Chevelle's as he looked again at me. Anvil stepped closer to us and placed a hand on Chevelle's shoulder as he spoke. "I will sit with Freya."

I was sure I'd missed something but couldn't bring myself to care enough to question it. Chevelle eyed me, hesitant for a moment, and then stood, glancing once at Ruby before she followed him from the room. Grey gave me a parting nod as he turned to go with them.

I glanced up at Anvil, who seemed distracted. When he finally looked back at me, he saw my curiosity and shook his head. "You're driving him crazy."

For no good reason, I flushed.

He continued as if he were speaking to himself. "Yet it is much improved. It was exceptionally strange before, akin to a child." I bristled but he didn't seem to notice.

"Well, it's not exactly easy on my end either," I said.

He laughed. "I would reason not. You, expecting naught and finding it nonetheless. Us, expecting Lord Freya and getting-" he held his hand out toward me in a gesture that cut short, along with his intended description, at my expression. "Now, now," he explained with a smile, "I mean no offense. It is merely unsettling to meet someone you have known and find they are not at hand."

His word unexpectedly produced the image of the remains and I shuddered. Anvil, assuming I was disturbed by something he'd said, leaned closer, planning to explain. When he reached out to me, I saw his large, strong hands and I suddenly knew what was so disturbing about the frail, petite fingers of the woman in the secreted chambers. Not a woman, a human. I could feel the flush rise through my neck and cheeks, my fists clenched involuntarily, and it took all of my concentration not to rise from the bed.

Anvil backed up slightly and appeared to be preparing to do something, though I couldn't began to imagine what.

"There was a human in the cave," I started, surprised by how composed I sounded in comparison to the way I felt. He didn't respond but I could see his posture straighten as I continued, thinking aloud, "A human in Asher's secret burrow." My words ended in something like a hiss and I was caught off guard by the course my thoughts had taken. "Why is there a dead human in Asher's hidden chambers?"

I was staring directly into Anvil's eyes as he responded, "Well now, that's a loaded question." I forced the flames to remain in my fists as I waited. He cleared his throat and then began, "Do you prefer to know why there was a human present, or why she no longer lives?"

I felt my eyes widen at the question and he explained. "I assume you will only make it through one narrative or the other." When the flames bit at my forearms, he was speaking again. "Then I choose before you receive neither. It is that Asher means to persist in his design to strengthen his line. A disgrace it is, an abomination."

I watched the disgust on his face with confusion. He wasn't making any sense, none of it made any sense. Where were all of these humans coming from, why would anyone want them, what-And then Anvil's words sunk in. They swirled hideously through my mind as the familiar, biting pain returned, the sharp ringing a background noise to the repulsive concept. Strengthen his line. I started to feel faint so I forced myself to look at Anvil as I questioned him to find focus. "He means to breed with the humans."