Pieces of Eight (The Frey Saga, #2)

I woke short of breath, the way I felt when I was violently roused from the battle dreams. I immediately surveyed my surroundings, not surprised to find them looking at me with concern. I attempted a weak smile and most of them returned to their tasks.

I wasn't usually awake as early as they were, so breakfast generally came just before I jumped on my horse to catch up and sometimes even after we were riding, but the dream had given me freshly cooked meat. We sat scattered on the rocks surrounding the camp when Ruby inquired about my start.

"A dream," I answered. I watched Anvil, only a few feet away, as I recalled the dream and almost without realizing it, I remembered the dark man's name.

I was speaking before I was entirely aware of what I was saying. "It was Anvil. And Rune." I heard a peculiar noise and my eyes flicked to Chevelle, whose face had drained of all color. My chest constricted, though I wasn't sure exactly what I'd said wrong. No one spoke.

I could feel the flush in my cheeks, I opened my mouth but nothing came out. There was nothing to say, I didn't know why he was staring at me like... like what?

Finally, Anvil broke the silence. "Ah, my little Freya has been dreaming of me." It was apparent he was going for humor but no one laughed. He cautiously stood and after a moment Chevelle turned and left the group. My eyes shifted to Anvil, questioning. He forced a smile but said nothing as he walked past me to his horse. I followed as the others mounted their own.

It was a quiet ride throughout the day. Once, I heard something pass between Ruby and Chevelle but, despite the fact that my hearing was better than before, I couldn't understand the whisper. I was afraid to speak again so I merely watched our surroundings, studied the passing rocks, said goodbye to the greens and trees.

I missed my birds.

We finally stopped for the evening and it was much later than usual. I was paranoid it was because of something I'd said and I had trouble stopping the images of the dream from making a continuous circuit through my thoughts. Steed brought an elk in though and I managed distraction for the entire time it cooked and the few short minutes it took me to devour my portion.

After dinner, Chevelle was nowhere to be seen. I was surprised when the wolves showed up after dark. I lay waiting for sleep when the flicker of the firelight caught their silver fur as they sauntered into the camp. Their eyes roamed over each of us before their massive frames settled onto the ground and they relaxed into sleep. I found myself falling with them, more secure in their presence.

Consequently, when the dreams came they didn't have the mood of nightmares. I was assured, the strong, certain Elfreda that I sometimes knew. She smiled as the cloaks circled, beckoned them on. She faced the panther with courage, defied her lord. And she laughed at Rune, fearless in the face of his force. Until the dream focused again on the mass he concentrated on, the vague figure that lay on the floor. She was powerless to act, suddenly weak. She stared fixedly and the shape took form. I could see him now, his face contorted in agony. In answer to my wordless plea, there was a flash of light, a surge of electricity, and the torture ceased momentarily. I could see his rigid body ease a fraction and I was grateful. Grateful for Anvil having intervened and grateful for the broken entity that lay so near to me, he who signified so much...

I almost choked on the breath I sucked in. My eyes darted around the camp, seeking him out, but he was nowhere to be found. It was as if I needed to see him, look upon his face here, not in the dream, to be positive it was real. But I knew, even without seeing, I knew.

Someone approached and I sat up, shaken, to find it was Anvil. He knelt beside me as he inquired on my condition and I surprised us both by wrapping my arms around his massive chest in a hug. "Anvil," I gushed, the appreciation pouring through me even now. He patted my back and then I felt his shoulders come up in a shrug. I looked behind me to see who he was gesturing to and found Ruby and Chevelle were approaching the camp. I awkwardly pulled my still trembling arms loose and wrapped them around myself. I should have realized Ruby was gone when Anvil had come to me.

I'd desperately wanted to find him moments ago and now that he was only feet from me, I couldn't bring myself to meet Chevelle's eyes. The rush of emotion I had felt in the dream was swimming through me, the image of his pained face, his besieged body, stealing my focus. I forced my mind to accept them into the jumble of memories and thought and fix them in place so I could function again. I felt a tear roll down my cheek and Ruby was there, brushing it away. She didn't ask this time, she just sat beside me and waited. I was overwhelmed for an instant and found myself clinging to her as I had Anvil but eventually the chaos settled.