Rise of the Seven (The Frey Saga, #3)(17)

I finally glanced around the camp. Rhys and Rider had taken watch outside. They had informed me the wolves would remain at the castle, though I was unsure whether they’d not wanted to confront Junnie or they’d had some other purpose. The others relaxed around the fire. I was finally able to grasp that peculiar feeling that had been plaguing me all day. It was so like those odd memories from when I was bound. Days of riding, nights by the fire, these same faces watching me warily.

Chevelle saw the smile playing at the corner of my mouth from where he sat beside me. “Are we amusing?”

I laughed with a kind of huff. “Just remembering.”

My eyes met his and he understood, but he didn’t appear to find it humorous.

Ruby, however, picked up the conversation. “You were so funny, Frey.” She tilted her head, deciding, and then, “But I still like you better now.”

Grey snorted.

“I don’t know,” Steed said, “I think she was remarkably entertaining.” He winked and I glanced down to hide my smile. He wasn’t genuinely flirting now, he was only being Steed. But I was fairly positive his mere presence irritated the crap out of Chevelle.

“That was probably the abundance of fairy dust,” I said pointedly to Ruby.

Her eyes narrowed on me. “I was trying to help you. I thought it would make it easier to find your memories. Or at least give you some relief.” I felt a little guilty for a second, until she smiled and added, “But it was fun to watch.”

Grey made a comment about some ruckus she’d created by dusting an imp, but I wasn’t listening. My gaze had fallen on Chevelle. He and Anvil were the only ones who had known me before, who had understood how truly lost I was, who had felt the full impact. Gone, Chevelle had said.

He saw my expression and met it with a sad sort of smile. “There were so many times we thought you were back.” He shook his head. “I knew it wasn’t possible, but still...” His brows pulled together, as if he were even now trying to work it out. “It was you.”

I thought of the first day I’d seen him, outside Junnie’s door. “I’m surprised you even recognized me under the blur of glamour.”

He chuckled. “I heard you, stealing around the back of the house. You were about as stealthy as a bull elk in a boar’s nest. Junnie tried to stop me, I wasn’t to be seen.” But he was there, still and solid as a statue, and I’d nearly tumbled into him. “I suppose it was fortunate you were masked.”

I remembered his face, the tightness in his muscles, the restraint apparent in every part of him. He’d turned from me with fisted hands and disappeared.

“And then you broke it,” he continued. I glanced up at him, pulled from my reverie. “You stood before council and transformed.” He glanced at my hair. “Dark seemed to seep out, drowning the pale like oil over straw.” His gaze moved to meet mine. “And your eyes shone as green as a fey flame.”

I remembered. I’d unwittingly summoned the wind. Crushed the council speaker’s windpipe.

Chevelle laughed humorlessly. “I thought you were going to kill him right there. And then you just left.”

I’d run.

I was unaware of how low our conversation had become, nearly a whisper, until rowdy laughter brought our attention back to the others. The banter between Steed, Anvil, and Grey had taken a fevered pitch, and they appeared ready to roll around the rock like tiger cubs. Ruby was egging it on.

“Yes,” she taunted Anvil, “but you are more of a one-strike wonder.” Grey and Steed were in an uproar at this, but she carried on. “Steed can outlast any man.”

A snicker escaped me and she turned to us.

“Would you not agree?”

I bit my lip.

“Damned fairies,” Grey quipped, and there was suddenly a bolt of fire headed for his chest. He rolled and twisted and was abruptly standing behind her, hands at her hips. Her face was near the color of her hair and I laughed full out. She was going to slaughter him.

“He’s quick,” Chevelle said, shaking his head.

“You’d have to be.” I smiled, indicating Ruby.

The exchange had evolved into a full-on brawl and Chevelle gave me a look that clearly implied it was my responsibility to manage it. Each day, I had more sympathy for what he must have endured on our previous journeys.

Steed tumbled over Grey and their boots landed in the fire, kicking up smoke and embers.

“Children,” I commanded. I was reasonably certain they’d not even heard me. I tried again, standing for the order. “Cease.”

Steed looked up from his place on the ground, cheeks smeared with dirt and ash, and quirked his brow. That sly grin was the only indicator that he was about to launch himself at me. I could say I had no intention of joining in the melee, but that would be dishonest. I was going to have a little fun with him.

I dropped to a defensive stance, arms out at the ready, just to give him permission. When he moved, I straightened back to my casual posture and waited. I let him get about half way.

He was off his feet, airborne in his leap for me, when I flicked my wrist to leave no doubt where the blast had come from. I felt the percussion as it collided with his power, but it barely affected the strike. It threw him back with considerable force, which I expected, and into a very large boulder some distance from the camp, which I had not. The previously boisterous onlookers fell silent, not even laughing at Steed’s shocked expression.