Frey (The Frey Saga, #1)

“Yes.” It was all I could manage in this particular situation.

His eyes held mine and I could swear he was searching for something. He opened his mouth to speak, but the door of the wardrobe flew open.

“Oh.” Ruby giggled the tiniest bit. “Excuse me. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” She seemed especially pleased she had, however.

Chevelle’s hand dropped and I could see out of the corner of my eye his face was hard and he was once again wholly irritated.

Ruby continued, “Steed said you had a guest so I just used the back…” She trailed off when his stare didn’t soften. But she smiled, “You know, you do have your own room.”

He stiffened and stood, not at all amused by her implication.

Ruby began gathering things as she spoke, pretending she hadn’t noticed his attitude. “So how did it go?”

He relaxed a little but his mood didn’t rise in the least. “We shall see.”

“Indeed,” she purred. “Indeed.”

He didn’t look back at me as he left the room, he simply directed Ruby to take me with her when she’d finished. She seemed more than happy to comply and I was in no doubt we would be training again. I slid the hawk sculpture into my pocket.

She hummed a tune as she gathered, throwing a cloak at me in the process. I tied it around my neck and drew the hood up. “Want me to carry anything?”

She eyed me as if I was entirely absurd. “Well, if you would like to, I can find something for you.” Ugh. Stupid Ruby. She turned and grabbed my arm beneath the cloak, yanking me solidly behind her as we left the house through her closet. She replaced the cover that hid the entrance and grabbed a quiver of arrows from the ground before she pulled me forward again.

“What are those for?” I asked, indicating the arrows, fully afraid they would somehow be used in my training.

“They are arrows, Frey.” She was really on a roll today. I shook my head and she laughed. “We are leaving them for Rhys and Rider to find.”

“Are they poisoned?”

“Yes.”

I considered that. “Did they use all the ones you prepared last night?”

She laughed. “You’re silly, Freya. It’s fun.” The way she pronounced my name, like it was dear to her, made it harder to be angry with her. But I made the effort.

“It’s not entirely my fault,” I huffed. And then I was sorry I'd said anything, mentioned the fog. I didn’t need to defend myself to her.

“I know,” she said, “but it’s still fun.” I wondered if she did know. Like everyone before. I pushed the thought from my head.

“I thought the dogs were their weapons of choice,” I said, cringing a bit as I remembered their demonstration.

She laughed again. “Wolves, Frey.”

“Wolves,” I repeated.

“And they aren’t weapons.”

“They don’t use them to attack?”

She spoke like she was explaining to a child. “Yes, the wolves attack. But not as weapons. Not by command of the elves. The wolves attack who they want. Protect who they want.”

“They don’t control them?”

“No, silly. No one can control animals.” She cocked an eyebrow speculatively at me.

“But…”

“Okay, well, sure, you can lead an animal. You can turn your horse and guide him on the path but that is simply pushing their heads and encouraging them with the click of your heels. But you can’t make them choose to take you; it just doesn’t work that way. You can’t get into an animal’s mind and make them… behave the way you want them to.”

“But the dogs… wolves… follow them. They had them do a demonstration and…”

“No, Frey. The wolves do not follow the elves. The wolves protect them by choice.”

“By choice?”

“Yes. And I have seen them tear an elf apart as quickly as defend them.” I shivered. “Rhys and Rider were saved by the wolves once. They think the animals understand. They follow the wolves, you see. That is why they are here.” We were at the ridge and she dropped the quiver by the rocks before we climbed over and down.





Steed, Anvil, and Grey greeted us before we resumed training. I tried to keep my mind off the wolves, off the reason we were training, off the encounter with Chevelle, off all of the terrible things it kept returning to, and I was grateful for the fog again. I was getting better, though still not good enough to avoid being battered, let alone win any matches. The long days of constant fighting were making me tired. We took a break and I leaned back on a rock, staring at the sky as I rested.