Frey (The Frey Saga, #1)



I gasped. “What are you talking about?” I was completely taken aback but the shock was quickly turning to anger. I was offended; did he really think I choked Evelyn? I remembered the speaker, his face as he struggled for air… I thought of the thistle I’d grown in the back room at Junnie’s… Evelyn’s face as she ran from the garden. I swayed; my eyes went out of focus. I didn’t even realize I was falling until I felt Chevelle’s arms around me; he was quick, catching me before the rocks did.

He was kneeling, one arm around me, my back against his leg as he bent over me. “I’m sorry Freya. I thought… how could you not know?”

Embarrassment flooded through me. He was right, and not only had I wished her to choke, I was too stupid to see I had caused it, just as I had caused the speaker to choke. I squeezed my eyes closed tight with shame and rolled away from him, curling onto a rock. He didn’t speak but I heard him step away, unsaddle the horses, and settle onto a rock several feet away. We were both still until nightfall, when he retrieved a blanket from the pack and laid it over me. I didn’t thank him, fearing what would come out if I spoke.





The next morning, we were both quiet as Chevelle saddled our horses. I had plenty to think of besides the questions that had seemed so important the previous day.

I’d been convicted of practicing dark magic. I had thought it was a mistake.

The images rolled through my mind as we continued up the mountain. The lifeless body of a small gray bird. A garden of weeds with roots as black as soot. The faces of council as their speaker struggled to breathe. A thistle growing in Evelyn’s throat, slowly choking off her airway. Chevelle’s face when he had asked who showed me to fuse the crystal with blood. His expression as he looked down at me yesterday… how could you not know? That image had haunted me the most. It seemed so familiar somehow. He’d let his guard down, and though strained with worry and fear, there was something else there, sadness or maybe just plain sympathy.

“This is a good place to stop for the night.” Chevelle’s voice broke my reverie. I hadn’t noticed the entire day had passed. I glanced at the path behind us and could see the lake below in the distance. It shook me from my stupor.

I climbed down from my horse and sat on the trunk of a fallen tree facing the mountain top instead of the view below, preferring not to concentrate on the distance or height. I watched Chevelle lead the horses to a large tree several yards away where he spun his hand and formed a trough from bark and tinder on the ground. I didn’t see where the water came from, but it filled and the horses drank from it as he spun his wrist and grass from the sparse patches here and there collected in front of them. Movement caught my eye and I looked to Chevelle in alarm. Though he appeared calm, he was staring in the same direction. I studied the black mass that was approaching him. It was a dark cloak, moving very fast. The full cape covered every part of whoever it was, a large hood shielding their face.

Chevelle nodded in greeting as I scanned the area, I didn’t see anyone else approaching so I looked back to the couple. They seemed to be whispering, Chevelle glancing toward me every few seconds. Curiosity burned through me as they continued in hushed tones. And then a delicate arm reached out and passed Chevelle something. A woman. Her hand lingered in his during the exchange and my chest felt like it was burning inside. Were they whispering about me? Yes, or hiding something, I knew. He continued throwing glances at me as they spoke. I hungered to hear what they were saying, enough that my mind spun, even wishing I were invisible, because if they couldn’t see me, I could get closer and hear.

Pouting, my eyes fell downward. A small scream escaped when I saw my arms. They were covered in tree bark, the same bark as the tree I sat on. I bolted straight up to standing and began hitting them as if my shirt were on fire, trying to put out the flame, get the creepy bark off me. I looked up when I heard Chevelle and the cloaked woman running toward me. But, panicked, I couldn't keep my gaze off my arms for long. To my surprise, they were now normal. My head came up again just as the couple stopped in front of me. The woman gasped. It was Junnie. Her cloak had fallen and she wore a surprised expression under her golden curls.

“Junnie!” I was so relieved to see her.

“Freya?” She didn’t seem sure. She reached out slowly and stroked a strand of my black hair, then dropped it quickly.

The shock of seeing her disappeared then. “Are you here for council? To collect me?” My voice was colored with the shame of being a criminal. Bird killer. Elf strangler.

She managed to look even more surprised. She glanced at Chevelle and then back to me, forcing a smile. “Are you alright, Frey?”