Pieces of Eight (The Frey Saga, #2)(5)

But he couldn’t have burned the map into my palms. He’d said he’d been distracted. He’d had his own agenda; I’d watched him the night before as he snuck into a strange village and through a window for a secret meeting. I froze as I made the connection.

“What about Junnie?”

I saw Ruby shoot a glance at Chevelle but his eyes didn’t stray from the fire. She looked away, busying herself as he answered. “What about Junnie?”

“I saw her… when we were being attacked.” I swallowed hard at the memory but tried to stay on track.

He looked at me then, but I had my own answer. My voice was weak. “She’s a member of council… she received the calling just before I left the village…”

He let me digest my own words.

I was sure the fog in my brain, the breaks in my memory, were keeping me from being able to work through this. Junnie had been my only friend in the village, all those years. But she wasn’t my friend, was she? She had been my mother’s aunt, she was my family. She had come to see my mother, to warn her. I tried to think back through my memories, the days in her study, the lessons. She’d been kind to me, yes; there was no question of that. But she’d never let on that she was any more than, well, than my mentor. But that wasn’t right either. She’d helped me with my studies, but she never taught me about magic. Though I had been sure I couldn’t really do magic then. But I’d had fire, Chevelle had shown me in one morning how to control the tiny flame I’d been using since I’d arrived at the village.

“Frey?” Ruby’s voice pulled me from the spiraling thoughts. I tried to clear my head as I looked up at her, away from the flicker of the camp’s fire. I could feel the tension in my face.

Pity was evident in her eyes and it was easy to believe this group was as important to her as it had become to me. It was all either of us had. She, alone but for a half-brother and a missing father. And my only family a… well, two aunts. Though at the moment I couldn’t be sure whether I could count either. Thoughts of Fannie replaced my stress over Junnie.

And then something gnawed at the edge of my memories. A forgotten dream? Aunt Fannie, glorious in anger…

“Frey?” Ruby was harsher this time. She kept my attention. “It will be dark soon. We should continue your training.” I had the feeling she was trying to distract me. Someone always interfered when they saw the strained look on my face, fighting with the bonds and the memories…

She choked out a laugh as she scrutinized my bruised face. “I’m guessing you don’t want to try weapons today.” Grrr…





Training was brutal, as always, but I had a harder time than usual because I’d not been able to stop my mind from returning to Junnie and Fannie. I wished there was a way to retrieve my memories now. I cringed as I realized the most likely way was the one we were taking, hunting down those who’d bound me to destroy them. And then the worry set in. There was no guarantee it would work, no guarantee that no one would be hurt, not even certainty that I wouldn’t be hurt. I wouldn’t think of the flames now…

But I did have that memory, the memory of the flames. I thought of the diary then. I’d not wanted to read it after the revelation of my human father, after the description of my mother’s own father and his wicked plans, after the madness that led her to destroy the North. I looked around the fire as I sat alone with Ruby, the others speaking in hushed tones across from us. It didn’t make sense, the reports I’d seen of the northern clans had claimed extinction.

“Ruby?”

She smiled automatically as she answered, knowing I would likely say something stupid or entertaining. “Hmm?”

“What happened,” it was hard to talk about, “when my mother…”

Her brow tightened as I trailed off. “We don’t have to talk about this now, Frey.”

“I want to know.” I didn’t sound convincing and I knew it.

“You think you do.”

“Would you be happier, if you never knew…” I couldn’t finish that sentence either. How could I point out that she’d poisoned her own mother, and who knew how many others, by accident?

“Wouldn’t I?” she replied coolly.

I sighed. She was probably right. But not knowing was torturous. “But she couldn’t have… I mean, you are from the North. And Steed, and Chevelle…” As I waved my hand toward them for emphasis, I noticed Chevelle was watching me. Staring at me. Yes, my mother had killed his clan. My throat was thick but I managed to choke out my question in a whisper. “She didn’t kill them all, then?”

Ruby’s face flashed with sympathy and irritation and a half dozen other emotions before she answered. “No, Frey. She didn’t. But most remained scattered until things settled a bit.”

I let out a deep breath, slightly relieved, and she eyed me suspiciously.

“Frey…”

Uh oh.

“What made you think she’d killed them all?”

“Um, I read it.”

Her eyes narrowed. “That wasn’t in the diary.”

I hesitated for half a second and then decided on the truth, mostly because I couldn’t come up with a good enough lie. “It was in some papers from the village.”