Rise of the Seven (The Frey Saga, #3)(43)

We didn’t slow through the darkness of night. The cool air seemed to recharge the horses, and their excitement recalled old memories to me.

I could hear the purr of breath, see the black coat glisten over straining muscle through the blur of ash and tears. The stench of burning flesh still remained in my nose and throat, the screams of so many still echoed through my mind. My ears roared with some unknown resonance. All I could do was hold on to Chevelle’s back, though I wanted nothing more than to tear everything apart. My mother’s words sang softly to me, a warning, just before I was attacked. A deep green vine rose to strike, curling like a viper, and shot out, thorns piercing my arms like fangs as its rapidly growing body wrapped around my wrist in a choking hold.

“Frey.”

I jerked awake, so suddenly pulled from the dream that I struggled against Chevelle’s grip on my arm.

“Freya,” he repeated.

I sputtered, yanked my arm once more, and then finally breathed. He watched me, only releasing his hold when it was clear I had my bearings.

“Thank you,” I whispered in a hoarse voice, at last realizing I’d fallen asleep as we rode.

His head tilted forward, and I followed it to find the familiar rocks marking the way to the temple. It was time.

We dismounted and as Steed turned the horses to graze, I took one last trip to the sky to be certain everyone was in place.

I opened my eyes to find seven soldiers watching me. I gave them one nod that I hoped conveyed everything and took my first step toward River Temple.

Two hundred steps later, the trees took on a new appearance. Great oaks and maples grew vigorously, limbs overlapping as their massive trunks stood too close together. The excess of leaves created a low canopy of dappled green, out of season with the cool air. We continued through the maze wordlessly, treading lightly and on watch. We had no guarantee they weren’t lying in wait.

When the forest border began to clear, my guard took up lines. Rhys and Rider led as Chevelle and Anvil flanked me. Ruby, Steed, and Grey walked behind, rotating to watch our backs and the sky. After their attack on the castle, we were sure they would try again. But they weren’t waiting for us in the surrounding forest. They were waiting for us in the temple.

Seventy white robes lined the temple floor. Twenty more were staggered between the columns. More than thirty stood along the balcony railing. Bright eyes and golden hair were all that set them apart at that instant. Gone was their jovial mood, no one smiled now. My eyes scanned the room, searching. The floor was nothing but fodder. Single tassels adorned most robes, none there wore more than three. These were fresh recruits, brought in to wear us down. A few among the columns might be able to contest the townspeople, but held no threat to my guard.

The balcony. That was where our target waited. They watched us, no hint of wariness, only pure hatred. They thought us evil. They thought to take our lands, destroy our people. They had bound me. They had burned my mother.

The ground shook. It was only when Chevelle’s hand touched the small of my back that I realized the tremor came from me. I had to control Asher’s magic. It was too much to release in overwhelming anger. It would consume us.

“Elfreda of Camber,” the council speaker called from the balcony.

I stopped him before he could finish his speech. “It is Lord Freya.”

He set his jaw, determined to complete the show. “We of the Council of the Order of the Light Elves...”

I glanced at Chevelle. They would proclaim their innocence, their rightfulness, play out this display in front of the new members. In front of those who didn’t know the truth.

They intended to win.

They didn’t expect those on the floor to live, but they were covering their tracks in case a few survived before wearing us down. The seven of my guard. And me.

I stepped forward. “Your words waste your final breath. We come to avenge the lives of the lady Eliza,” I let my gaze trail the balcony, “of Rosalee of Camber,” Steed stiffened beside me at the mention of his mother but I carried on, “of all the mothers of the North.”

I lost their attention for a moment, and knew the warriors of Camber had arrived to our right. Camren would be among them. “We come to avenge the lives of Burne, and all the husbands of the North.”

The thrum of beating hooves followed and all eyes fell to the approaching horses behind us. “We come to avenge the honor of our lands, of our people. We come to avenge our lives.”

At this, three council members on the upper level stepped back, but I only smiled. The fourth band of Camber warriors waited behind the temple.

“What say you, speaker?”

I had anticipated some hesitation at the sight of the additional fighters, but there was none. What was left of this council had decided to end the North, and they apparently had no notion that they might lose.

Their first strike was swift and severe. Some unseen signal unleashed a hail of fire, exploding light, and countless bursts of energy. There would be no weapons here, the council members on the floor would be instructed to kill or die. They would have no second chance.

There was a thundering response from our line and nearly a third of the seventy went down. In a matter of minutes, the few who remained pushed back behind the columns where the twenty of the second line of attack waited. They worked together to bring the water. The resounding roar was accompanied by a vibration, which quickly grew to shake dust from the columns of the temple.