Pieces of Eight (The Frey Saga, #2)

I drew in a sharp breath but Ruby must have thought it was because she'd mentioned the human. It wasn't. Junnie. She must have had the same abilities. The same as I, the same as Fannie... and surely the same as our mother. I had a thousand questions now, I struggled to not sound too anxious. "Ruby, if Fannie was... unique... why would Asher not want her? Just for her looks?"

"I don't know, Frey. I wasn't around then." I saw her eyes inadvertently flick to Anvil before they were back on me. "And your mother was not exactly clear on everything that happened."

No, she wasn't. And there was one particular part that I was exceedingly curious about now. I pushed the blankets off to find my pack but Ruby was faster. She grinned as she handed it to me and gracefully stood to leave, knowing what I'd wanted.

"Thanks, Ruby."

Her departing smile was enchanting.





As soon as she'd turned, I hurriedly flipped through the pages to the back of the diary, finding the passage I was after.





“You’re back.” His voice was trembling, feeble. It was my Noble, young no more. He had been waiting here for my return. An outcast of the village; no one believed his tales of magic, the mysterious woman he claimed to meet here. He confessed to spending years trying to find me. He’d thought I was angry with him and that was why I’d not returned. He was afraid to leave this spot, if I were to change my mind… forgive him for whatever he’d done.

I pushed the guilt aside when I recalled why I'd had to come here. For my Freya, to save her. What my father did to me, to my mother, I would not let him do to her. I knew what I must do, the only way. I approached the grieving man and reached out to him. As I held his hands, I closed my eyes. I could not watch as I snapped his neck, the way I had with the small boar as my first show of magic to him so long ago. I placated myself by remembering that he would soon be gone, his life so short. I held him until he began to stiffen, and then carried his lifeless body into the village. Proof that they would be attacked and killed, proof that they must fight the elves. It was not hard to incite a riot. They were fearful creatures. I convinced them to raid the castle, gave them direction.





All that had happened and it was still hard to read. But I'd found what I was looking for, gave them direction. She had done it, my mother had impressed upon the humans to find the castle and attack. She must have kept it a secret from her father. She would have known the danger.

I thought of my dream again, how I had run to her. I could recall the emotions, the betrayal yes, but there was more. I had thought her ridiculous, hadn't stood by her as Asher condemned her. And she had been right. I'd run to her, slain her guards and... and what?

I tried to force the memory but pain seared through my head. So instead I focused on what I did have. Asher. He was still alive, and was somehow connected to this group... my guard.

Comprehension came suddenly and forcefully. I knew, not just from reading the diary, but I knew intuitively what he wanted. Power and control. Unique enough to assure his line, his rule. She had kept it a secret from him. He'd known her child was half human, known she had found them, which had probably given him the idea to try with me. He thought them dumb like animals. But he did not know she could control the humans. Not until she had created an army.





"Frey." Chevelle's voice startled me. I looked up at him but he was staring at the diary on the blanket beside me. "It's time to go."

I started to stand and he grabbed my arm to help me, a little too forcefully for my taste. But before I could protest, I realized I was standing unbearably close to him. I could feel the length of his leg against the side of mine and, too fast for me to look away, a flush tore through my cheeks. He let go of my arm and turned, directing the others to the horses.

I purposely kept a sluggish pace as the others mounted, not wanting to ride near the front where I knew he would be. And then I saw Anvil, his massive black horse almost purring out breaths as they passed. I hurried, jumping up into the saddle (and almost over the other side) to catch him.

I casually fell in beside him and gave him an earnest smile. It must have been transparent because he laughed. I was undeterred. "Anvil," I tried to keep my voice as subdued as possible, "do you mind if I ask you something?"

"Probably."

I ignored him. "I was reading my mother's diary and I was wondering... why would Asher shun Fannie if she could use the animals?"

I expected him to give me a stuttered reply spoken in a hushed tone or avoid answering all together. He did neither, answering as clearly and normally as if he had nothing to hide. "Francine kept her ability a secret. Not just from Asher but from everyone."

I was speechless, I couldn't even think of a follow up question. But he continued, "She was smarter than anyone gave her credit for and paranoid to boot."