It was days before I spoke to Chevelle again, but he didn’t seem to mind the lack of conversation. He just rode as he always did, quiet, with intermittent glances in each direction, and as if he were traveling alone. He hadn’t appeared to notice my behavior at all. I finally broke the silence one evening as we navigated a narrow pass.
“How long will we be riding?” I wasn’t specific in my question, not wanting to reveal I had no idea where we were going. He'd been under the false impression he'd had to take me, I wasn't about to mess that up and be dragged back to the village after everything that had happened. My horse quickened its pace to ride alongside his and I made a mental note to learn how to control it on my own. The constricted path forced us close together, our stirrups and legs occasionally touching as we rode. He nodded at my hand and I held it out, palm up.
He indicated a spot on one of the mountains. “We are here.”
I tried not to show my disappointment. The information hadn’t really helped because I didn’t know where I started on the map or where it was taking us. At least I knew we were closer.
When we came through the pass our path widened but the horses didn’t separate as I had expected them to. I took the chance. “How do I control Steed?”
I could see the humor in his eyes at my question but he kept a straight face. “Just think of where you want him to go and lead his head so.”
I concentrated on turning his head left and we were instantly spinning, the unexpected twirl throwing me half from my saddle.
Chevelle caught my arm and righted me on my now still horse. “Maybe not so severe next time.”
I flushed. I focused on his head again, turning it back to our course, and gave him a small nudge with my heels.
I was cautious after that but it became easier to control his movement as we rode. I practiced guiding him, eventually even maneuvering him back and forth between the rocks and small brush on our way. But I was still afraid to try kneeling when we stopped for the evening, imagining him rolling on top of me if I tried. I slid down and stretched my legs, glad for a rest after the hours of tensing every time the horse changed direction. The evenings were cooler now and I ran my hands over my arms to warm them.
I started as black swirled around me, and then realized Chevelle had thrown a cloak over my shoulders. He turned in front of me to hook the clasp. His dark eyes were piercing as he stood so close, looking into mine. My heart stuttered as he started to lean toward me. Our faces were unbearably close and he was still moving in. Just before his face touched mine, it slid alongside my cheek, his mouth at my ear. I froze as he spoke low, his breath on my neck sending a shiver through me. “Stay still.”
In a flash he was gone. He moved so fast it took me a second to catch up with what had happened. He had pulled the hood of the cloak over my head and was standing several feet in front of me, facing away. I focused on him, trying to understand when I saw two men come into view. I hadn’t seen them before; they must have been concealed, or camouflaged by magic as I had been several days ago. They were dressed in long robes and I recognized the tassels hanging from their necks. Council members. I wasn't familiar with the elves though; they mustn’t have been from the village.
As they approached Chevelle cautiously, I examined their insignia but remained unable to identify them. Even if they aren’t from the village, they are still council members, maybe they can unbind me. I hastily decided to seek their help, or force them somehow into joining Chevelle in releasing my memories, but when I started toward them I remembered my warning to be still.
“She’s not going back.” Chevelle’s uncompromising tone caught my attention. I pushed the hood off my head to hear their conversation better.
The one on the left glared at me as he hissed, “You’re protecting her when you know what she’s capable of?”
I flinched at his words as I scrutinized him. His robes were more ornate and he wore numerous tassels of interwoven colors. Grand Council?
I studied the other council member. He acted as if he did not know I was present, staring directly at Chevelle when he spoke. “Her mother slaughtered your clan, your family. Why release this terror–”
His words were cut short as his face contorted in pain. I looked to Chevelle, his back was stiff, every visible muscle tense as he faced them. The second councilman was still suffering. When blood poured from his nose I gasped. Chevelle threw me a quick glance and I couldn’t catch my breath - his eyes were as black as onyx. He was focused again on the men as they eased away, the first helping the other by his arm, both bowing slightly toward Chevelle as they stepped backward, the injured one occasionally stumbling. He stood facing them until they spun and disappeared, and then he turned to me.