As I saw the look on his face I instantly knew the cause of the devastation. I still couldn’t remember but I knew what I had heard was true, my mother had killed his family, his entire clan. He was there in the village in my dreams, in my memories. He saved me. His family was there as well. The people running and screaming and dying, his clan. I knew the cloaks now, too. Grand Council. The council was circling my mother to stop her. She was killing the northern clans. I didn’t know why. And I didn’t know how I knew, but I was certain.
I suddenly didn’t want my memories back, what I had was already too much. I couldn’t fathom the pain he had suffered, surely a hundred times mine at the loss of my mother. His mother… his father… each member of his family? How much loss had he endured? Tears were streaming down my face.
Chevelle took a step toward me and I was suddenly fearful. I recoiled slightly. He must despise me. He nodded in understanding and dipped his head slightly as he walked away. He constructed a quick shelter and stood back, allowing me to close myself away.
I fell to the bed and wrapped myself in the cloak. He surely loathed me. I thought back to the scenarios I had envisioned after the memories of my mother being killed came back to me… what I would do to those men if I were to ever find them. Now I remembered the truth, they were saving the North.
I couldn’t say I didn’t still want revenge though. What he must feel toward me for taking so much from him. My mind was reclassifying every look he'd ever given me, everything that had happened since I’d met him. Why he didn’t look at me as I lay under the tree in the meadow, explaining why Fannie had struck me. Why I wanted to learn transfer magic… to get my mother’s things. The look he gave the pendant on my neck… my mother’s pendant. Yes, of course he’d volunteered to be my watcher. He was sure I needed a watcher. I had taken everything from him.
My thoughts were beginning to muddle as my mother and my dreams and my own life were twisting. I still couldn’t retrieve my memories, I only had the last long years, which seemed a haze now. Really, I only had the days since Chevelle walked through Junnie’s door. I thought of how I had cursed him when I found he was my watcher. The hate in my voice when I demanded my memories back. The memories of his family’s murder. My mind writhed with anguish through the night. As I emerged from the shelter late the next morning, I was resigned. I would continue my journey with him and let him return me to the council for sentencing without resistance.
I found him sitting on a rock facing the door of the shelter a few feet away, distress apparent in his features.
“Thank you.” I indicated the shelter with a tip of my head.
He nodded but his face didn’t quite return to the serene mask it usually wore. My stomach knotted and I realized I hadn’t eaten. He understood as I placed my hand there, a fire lit beside the rock as he strode off to find food. I sat close, warming myself as I waited for him to return. A moment later, he was back and breakfast was roasting over the flames. We ate in silence and mounted the horses as we had each day before but it was obvious nothing was the same. How could it ever be? I was racked with guilt as we made our way up the mountain. I rode behind him, glad at least I could control my own horse now.
I paid more attention to our surroundings, since it had become so uncomfortable to look at him. Small patches of snow had started to appear and the vegetation was a darker green. Occasionally the sun would break through the mist, making me squint, and I would appreciate the calmer, hazier atmosphere. Gloom, as they called it at home, in the usually sunny village where I would spend my eternity. I wondered where I would be kept as a captive, if there would be windows, if I was unfit for public view.
He picked up speed after we passed through the more difficult part of the trail and then we rode too fast the rest of the day. I continuously struggled to keep up with him on our rough path. I was sure I knew the cause of his hurry. He’d decided he wanted to get this journey over with, end it and return me to the council for my punishment, to be done with me.
We rode long into the evening, well past sunset, and I wondered if he would stop at all. I was contemplating possible ways to sleep on a horse when we finally stopped. We were riding through a small pass, the moonlight barely lighting our way, and Chevelle’s horse disappeared. My head swiveled, searching for any sign of them, when my own horse turned beneath an overhang and stopped beside his, so dark I hadn’t seen it until we were there. Chevelle tossed a small flame, giving us enough light to dismount. The horses walked to one corner as we stood in the other.
“Frey.” Chevelle turned to me as he spoke. “Yesterday… the council trackers…”