Frey (The Frey Saga, #1)



But I couldn’t deny it. Their size was about that of an elf, but all were different. The men were thicker. Not necessarily with muscle, some more bulbous. The women were varied as well, some thin and wiry, some stout like the males. Their hair was in all shades of the fairies’, light blond like the sun, brown as the trees, one even had rusty red, his plump cheeks peppered with light brown spots. And there were so many children! They were loud and ran round the camp all afternoon. And they just as varied as the adults. I examined their wide noses, rounded ears, and stubby fingers. Those that wore no shoes had short, thick toes like trolls! The men had patches of hair curled on their chests and forearms and some even grew it around their chins like goats. Their clothes were tattered and ill-fitting rags. They moved about the camp slowly, clearly no magic and definitely the owners of the crude tools we had found. They spoke to each other often, their voices like the protest of an old hound. I watched until nightfall, when they settled into tents and lean-tos. They seemed to assign a watchman, wielding only a torch lit from the central fire. I slipped down from the tree and returned to the castle. I am dying to see what I can find of them in the books of Father’s study.





Laughter broke my concentration. Anvil and Grey were back. I looked to the front wall but Ruby was gone, moved to the entrance of our room. She seemed to be waiting there excitedly for something. I slid the book into the pack and sat up to watch.

Chevelle came in and Ruby greeted him. “It’s fantastic.” He smiled at her.

Steed was following. “Almost unbelievable,” he added as he shot me a peculiar look.

They turned to me as Rhys and Rider entered, who didn’t approach but stopped just inside the room and dipped into a bow. “Our gratitude, Elfreda.”

I blushed. I had forgotten the wolves, they must have found them. “Were they hurt?”

“No. And our thanks to you for that as well.”

I wasn’t exactly sure how that was due to me but I smiled, glad they had somehow found them and everyone was safe. They turned to leave and Grey entered with two spits of meat and wine. It almost seemed like a celebration. Almost. Their high spirits hadn’t quite returned from before. I wondered how long I had been out.

The wine flowed. Steed took some food to Anvil, Grey and Ruby made their way to the front window, and I found myself sitting alone with Chevelle.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“Better. And worse.” Better because the dust was clearing. Worse because I was fuzzy again, bound.

He nodded. I hadn’t noticed him moving but he was closer now, sitting opposite me. He reached out and took my hand in his, turning it over, palm up. He placed a small pebble there. “Can you do anything with this?”

“No.” Frustration was clear in my voice, I had already tried.

“And no fire?”

“No.”

“So, nothing works?” The implication was there but I didn’t know what it meant right away. And then it occurred to me, the horse. I had thought it had shown up because I impressed upon it to follow us before I blacked out, but I had already been bound again at that point. Should I tell him? I didn’t know why I felt so protective of this secret.

He drew a section of moss to us from one of the stones on the wall and it replaced the pebble. “Try this. They shouldn’t have bothered binding you from growing.”

I concentrated on it. Nothing. But I was never good at that anyway. I shook my head.

He nodded, giving up, but our hands still lay together, connecting us. “Where are they now?” I asked.

He'd been looking at our hands, but his eyes returned to my face at the question. “Council,” I explained.

“They have retreated. They were able to briefly incapacitate the dogs, giving Rhys and Rider less warning of their approach before you were attacked.” He hesitated. “When we heard the alert, I turned… your eyes were closed.” I didn’t comment so he continued, “I was able to catch you just before your horse dropped. I’ve no idea why they attacked him. It makes no sense; they should have all been focused on you.”

I wasn’t sure they had attacked the horse. Maybe it was because I was there, in his mind, controlling him. “What happened to Rhys and Rider?”

“They broke to keep from fighting such a sizeable force alone. They circled back to meet us. In the disorder, they lost track of the wolves.”

“But the wolves weren’t hurt?”

“They had been strung up by vine among the trees, but alive.”

I gasped. “Why?”

A wry smile crossed his lips and I couldn’t help but focus on them for a moment. “Because the wolves would have fought to the death and Grand Council does not kill animals with magic.”

I remembered my mother. “Only elves?”