Fear rushed through me and I wrapped my fists around the handle, praying I could protect myself. A smile was the only warning Chevelle gave me before his blade was cutting through the air. Instinct took over and I flung my arms up to block his swing with my own. The metal clashed and I felt the shock vibrate through me even as the peal pulsed through my ears. I pulled the sword back just as he was striking again and I twisted to block another shot. I straightened and raised it back, it felt powerful to hold it, just before release. I smiled as I swung at him, sure he would stop me but still enjoying being the attacker instead of victim.
He twisted his blade around mine; a metallic screech filled my ears as he knocked my strike aside before he came back at me. We continued, blow after blow, the repetitive clank forming a pattern in my head. Chevelle seemed to be enjoying himself as the exercise increased in intensity. I found I was as well, I’d taken no direct beatings like my other training and I wasn’t getting as tired. No magic. I could see why they used weapons.
Chevelle pushed harder, assaulting me with faster and stronger swings. I was able to defend myself if I focused. I could hear murmurs of approval from our audience. I enjoyed that. I concentrated hard and began throwing a few hits of my own in with the blocks. Our swords clashed repeatedly, neither of us hitting the mark. I was certain he could have, but confident I was blocking well.
We continued until I became winded, then Chevelle lowered his blade, smiling with approval. I heard our audience commenting on the show and glanced around to see it was evening already, the sun was setting. How long had we sparred? I could feel the ache in my arms now. The sword hung limp at my side.
Ruby took it from my hand, “We’ll get you fitted with a sheath.”
I stood there, facing Chevelle, breathless but grinning. He was smiling appreciatively. I realized we were still being watched and sheepishly turned from him to join the group as they prepared a fire for dinner. The evening was filled with stories and laughter. I noticed Chevelle's eyes on me often. He seemed in better spirits and I wondered again about his morning guest.
Rhys and Rider approached and most of the group went over to meet them. Steed moved to sit beside me. “Very nice today, Frey,” he observed. I smiled. “You seem to be a natural.” I snorted.
Across the fire I noticed Grey leaning over to speak in Ruby’s ear. Steed saw me scrutinize them. “Are they… together?” I asked. I was confident in Grey's affection, but they didn’t act like a traditional pair.
He sighed quietly as we watched them, “No.”
There seemed to be more to his answer. “But, well, he…” I wasn’t sure how to phrase it.
“Yes.” Steed glanced back at me when he spoke. “But you can’t always have the one you want, Frey.” His voice was soft, yearning. I could never tell if he was teasing.
“I heard once you could die from grief.”
He smiled at my subject change. “It’s true. I’ve seen it myself.”
“Tell me about it.”
“No, too sad.” He was thoughtful for a moment. “I worried… about my father.” His eyes returned to me as he confessed. “After my mother died. Sometimes I’m grateful for the fire witch’s seduction. He was grieving so hard…” His face relaxed out of its usual cocky smile as he brought back the memory. “Her enchantments numbed him. Then, when he woke from them, the tragedy gave him purpose.” He smiled a little as he looked away. “The irony is her tragedy gave root to the idea–”
“Frey.” All of a sudden Chevelle was standing almost between us. I gaped up at him, the trance of Steed’s words broken.
“Huh?”
“Time to go.” He was angry. I didn’t know what I had done but I stood obediently. He pulled me away from Steed, who had replaced his miserable expression to smile gingerly for me.
“I’ll take her,” Ruby offered.
“No. I’ll do it myself.” He was really angry.
“We’ll both go,” she pushed, forcing a polite tone. The rest of the group was quiet, watching us. Ruby eyed Steed as we turned and headed toward the house.
As soon as we were out of earshot, though I was still being dragged by the arm, I asked Chevelle, “Did something happen with the twins?”
Ruby laughed. We both stared at her. “Twins,” she scoffed.
“Right, well, you know what I mean.” I was embarrassed.
Chevelle softened a little, “No. Everything is fine.”
Ruby chimed in, “It is fine,” and I was knew it was intended for him. He relaxed his grip on my arm and slowed our pace as he directed an almost imperceptible nod at Ruby. I relaxed, too. It is fine.
He stayed in the front room that night, watching through the small windows. When I closed my eyes, I could see the glint of swords, making patterns as they crossed repeatedly. I could hear Ruby humming a sad tune from her room as I fell into a peaceful sleep.
Low voices woke me. Chevelle and Ruby were in the front room, they may have been arguing. I rubbed my tired arms as I rose and joined them.
“What’s up?” I could tell by their exchange they had been in conflict.
Ruby smiled at me. “Just planning… for the trip.”
“Trip?”
“Yes, you know, to the peak.” She was scheming.
“Oh.” I’d let them work it out. “I’m going to take a bath.” I headed for her room.
As I closed the door, I heard Ruby. “It’s time to tell her.” I didn’t hear a response. I was soaking in hot water, my eyes closed, not even considering getting out when Ruby knocked on the door.