Frey (The Frey Saga, #1)(16)

The evening carried on and though the conversation still held a formal tone, neither man talking of anything personal, they seemed to be getting along. I faded in and out of the various discussions, listening occasionally but never talking. Steed seemed very aware of me. He was looking at me in a way no one ever had. It must have been obvious because when he excused himself to check the herd, Chevelle studied me, sliding a strand of my now black hair through his fingers. “It suits you.”

Maybe it was the wine, but as I looked at him, my anger was fading. It was hard to believe the concern wasn’t real. His eyes burned with intensity; they seemed even darker now. Dark… like mine. I looked away.

Steed broke in through the trees.

“They aren’t far.”

As he approached, he glanced at me and then Chevelle, close beside me.

“We can get an early start.” I realized he was carrying a pack now. “Bluebell?”

I stood and followed him into the hut, not missing the irritation on Chevelle’s face. He unclasped the pack and rolled the blankets out with a flip and then smiled and nodded his head good evening before stepping back outside. I unlaced my vest and threw it down, kicked off my shoes and flopped onto the blankets. I stretched, happy to lie on a comfortable bed, under a roof with no sunrise waking me. It was quiet outside, no more conversation between the men. I slipped off to sleep, trying not to think about my capture and coming return to the village.





“Freya.”

A low voice broke into my dreams of gently rolling hills and soft gray stone. I peered through slits and spotted Chevelle standing a few feet from my bed, facing the door. It was dim in the shelter and it took a minute to get my bearings. I sat up and, realizing why he was facing the door, picked up the vest and laced it over the thin material of my blouse. I slid my shoes on and stood, following him out.

“It’s dawn,” I complained.

“And good morning, Sunshine," a smiling Steed announced.

He was atop a large black stallion whose nostrils flared and steamed with its breath in the cool morning air. Two more horses pawed behind him; he twisted his wrist and they walked toward us. A dark, muscular horse stood beside Chevelle as a mammoth crossed in front of me and knelt. I gasped and Steed shot me a mischievous wink.

“Well?”

I was speechless. The beast was as large and black as a starless night. Steed was pleased with my reaction. Chevelle rolled his eyes but held out a hand to help me on my horse before he swung onto his own.

“I will ride with you as far north as Naraguah and then make my way east to trade with the imps at Bray,” Steed said to Chevelle.

I swung a shocked look at Chevelle, who simply nodded to Steed in reply. My eyes followed the exchange and I was staring, completely confused, at Steed. He saw my face and gave an admonishing look to Chevelle as he clicked his heels and his horse shot past us, its black tail whipping fiercely behind.

“North?” I asked.

Chevelle looked back at me, his calm a complete contradiction to my response.

“You aren’t taking me back? You are going… we are going north?”

“I’m sorry, Freya. I let you down at the creek.” His gaze fell to my hands. I remembered my burnt palms and instinctively closed them into fists. “I was distracted. I should have been paying closer attention, I should have prevented this.” Regret was thick in his voice. I stared at him, confused. “It’s too late now. You’ll never rest until you’ve followed the map.”

He was wrong; I’d completely forgotten my plans, surrendered to my captor.

“Yes,” I stated boldly. Yes.

I smiled and clicked my heels hard. I gripped the saddle with all my might as the horse ran forward. I’d never actually ridden a horse; there weren’t any in the village and I’d only seen them from the occasional visitor. Most elves didn’t need horses; they could walk or run where they needed to go. He was huge and I could feel how powerful he was as the ground rushed beneath us. We were gaining on Steed as I glanced over my shoulder at Chevelle, who was running, but not with the same determination I had. I looked forward again, wind whipping hair in my face, and we had caught Steed, who gave me a wide smile as we came up beside him.

“Enjoying the beast?”

I smiled in return, but as we started to pass him, I realized I didn’t know how to slow down. I didn’t know how to stop. For nuts’ sake, I don’t know how to ride. I stared back at Steed, the exhilaration gone, and he recognized panic.

At once, my horse slowed and fell in beside his, our legs almost touching as they ran in tandem. “Never ridden?”

“No.” My voice was shaky.

“We only train them with commands for the imps, just use your magic.”

I thought of the horse bursting into flames. “I haven’t learned animal magic.”

He looked at me as if I were a talking elm. “Just feel it, Elfreda.” I ignored the slight annoyance that Chevelle must have told him my name that way instead of Frey or Freya.

“I don’t understand,” I complained.

“You don’t learn magic, it’s part of you. Feel it. Think about what you want the horse to do.” My confusion must have still been evident. “It’s like a muscle. You didn’t think about lifting your leg to get on the horse, you just knew you wanted to climb on and your leg lifted.”