Frey (The Frey Saga, #1)

I faded off to blackness then, though my dreams were vivid and wild.

I was a hawk, flying high above the mountain. My wings stretched, I soared through the sky, endless and open. Through keen eyes I watched below, surveying a massive structure of dark stones. Then I was a wolf, running through those stones, hunting, searching, guarding. My shoulders were muscular, I could feel them tense and release with each stride. I was myself again, though strong and confident. Two statuesque elves, twinned in white, glided past me. Lightning struck around me, cracking the dark stones of the walls. Reed of Keithar Peak stood before me and suddenly I was on a pedestal, looking down as he wagged his tongue at me offensively. I scorned him, burning a chunk of it off, and he smiled at me.

I jolted awake, the smell of burning flesh still lingered in my nostrils, and was staring at Ruby’s ceiling. Damn her. I was alone in her bed, but could hear an exchange of low whispers from the open door as she and Steed conversed in the front room. I wasn’t about to announce I had woken. My head didn’t throb as before, no sour mouth. It was overall a much better experience. But who could stand the dreams? I rolled to my side.

There were a few books on the side table so I reached across and pulled the top one to my pillow. I flipped through the pages and abruptly became more alert, it was about magic. I hurriedly read through, wanting to learn as much as possible, but slowed on the section marked exchange. This book claimed using magic consumed your energy. Not just immediately available energy, but life energy.

I’d never known a book to lie, but I couldn’t imagine its applications in life. Ruby was giving part of her existence to draw me a bath? Chevelle and Steed forfeited time for a silly instructional match? It couldn’t have been right. I tried to recall, though still clouded with fog, the magic I’d seen in the village. The youngsters played, careless with the use, often until they collapsed from exhaustion. But the elders, they were reserved. I couldn’t think of them using it for anything that could be done with less physical energy. They hunted with weapons, wrote with their hands, worked as if they took pleasure in it. Was there no energy left for the magic? Or was it not important until you reached the close of your years and realized it was almost gone? I remembered how long a thousand years seemed to me before I planned on spending it in a prison.

Ruby walked in and I snapped the book shut, positive I shouldn’t have taken it from her table without permission. She glanced at it and I knew I from her stifled reaction I'd not be able to ask her about what I’d read.

“Sleep well?” she asked.

“Oh.” My voice was hoarse so she handed me a glass of water, which she smoothly traded for the book. “Dreams,” I complained.

She smiled as she sat on the bed beside me. “Some seek out the breath. They say it is foresight.”

“Foresight?”

She nodded. “What did you see?” She raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“Not the future.”

She laughed. “Have a bath. You’ll be good as new.” The water was coming in the window again and I wondered at what I had just read. Surely the dust and fog were meddling with my thoughts. “Chevelle will be swapping with us for the evening,” she explained.





The bath refreshed me but, unfortunately, it also cleared my thoughts. No wonder Ruby had drugged me. I tried not to think about the tracker as I dressed. The smell of cold and morning hung in the air and I felt a pang of guilt, though I couldn’t help but use the fragrance, knowing Chevelle would be there. I appraised myself in the mirror and smiled. Yes, the dust was still influencing me.

I opened the door and walked into the main room. Chevelle was sitting on the bench seat, leaning over as he worked on something. He raised his head as I approached and closed his hand around it before sliding it into a pocket. He looked anxious.

I was still feeling peculiar so I climbed into the seat beside him, curling my feet up close. He watched me, his eyes lingering even after I had settled. It felt as if he yearned to say something to me. The tension became too much and I broke. “Ruby drugged me.”

He smiled. “She told me. She was worried about your sanity.” The last word cracked, he seemed to regret saying it.

“Did she tell you,” I wasn’t sure I should be admitting this, “I read her book?”

“Yes.”

He wasn’t offering any information, I would have to ask. The dust must have given me courage. “It talked about exchange.” Still nothing. “About energy… life… for magic.”

He cleared his throat. “Yes.”