A falcon nested in the branches of a thorn tree not far from where we hunkered. I set it to flight, ignoring the metallic tinge of blood in my mouth.
Nothing. Everything looked right, normal. Nothing out of place, no danger. I released the bird and opened my eyes. I glanced over to find Grey and Chevelle in the middle of an exchange of silent gestures across the distance. I’d clearly missed most of it, but they had lost my attacker.
My head snapped up to Chevelle’s face. His grim expression confirmed what I thought I’d seen pass between them. I’d been attacked. Again.
In further explanation, his head tilted toward the ground behind us. Several yards away lay what looked to be a shard of glass.
“No,” I hissed.
Chevelle nodded. There was only one thing that created weapons like that. Ice fairy.
We both stepped closer to the offending splinter of ice. It was formed solid, nearly unbreakable, and almost impossible to see coming at you. I shook my head. I hadn’t even seen a fairy. I reached to pick up the icicle, disturbed by how much it reminded me of the thin silver dagger that had all but stabbed me, and Chevelle put a hand on my arm to stop me.
“It’s not right,” he whispered.
No shit, I thought, and then I realized what he’d meant. It didn’t smell right. There was a nasty, acidic tang to it. Poison.
Rhys and Grey were behind us now.
“Are you well?” Rhys asked.
They all waited while I took stock. “Yes.”
Chevelle eyed my side; I hadn’t been aware that I was holding pressure against it. I dropped my hand, daring him to question it. He didn’t, instead dealing with the most pressing issue. “We should return to the castle.”
For a moment, I considered going ahead with our agenda, but that would just be stupid. I nodded.
He stared at me for a moment. I stared back. He raised his eyebrows. Mine met the challenge. He sighed. “Frey, would you like to ride back?”
Oh. I bit my lip as I called the horses to us.
I stood silently watching my guard. Angry words flew through the study. Curses. Violent threats. No one had seen my attacker, a whisper of sound the only warning. No evidence remained but the sliver of ice. It lay on the table in a sealed container, frozen even now, in hopes that Ruby could discern the toxin. I couldn’t breathe. I pulled shallow puffs through my nose, anything deeper was a knife to my side. The ride back had nearly killed me. I was fairly positive something was broken.
Unexpectedly, they broke up and headed for the door. Chevelle lingered; I guessed he must have dismissed them. As the last noises faded in the corridor, he approached me.
“You’ve gone pale.”
I nodded.
He smiled a little, glad I’d finally given. “Come, then.” He walked me to my room and sat on the bed beside me, pulling my shirt aside to examine the injury. I raised my head to see, but as he pressed the skin, I fell back against the pillow with a gasp.
“Broken rib, I think.” He restored my shirt and patted my leg. “Hurts like a beast.”
“The good news,” I wheezed, “is I’ve barely thought about being assaulted again.”
He looked as if he might be sick.
Someone cleared their throat at the open door and Chevelle’s hand on my leg tightened. “I’ve asked Ruby to tend to you.”
I glared at him.
He smiled and stood, leaving me to a special kind of torture.
Ruby had talked while she worked, trying to distract me to ease the pain. I’d refused her concoctions and she’d eventually left me to rest. But sleep wasn’t coming. I lay staring at the canopy of the bed, building more and more anger as time passed.
Council had killed my mother. Murdered her in an attempt to suppress northern rule. Protection had been her blood right. My blood right. They had intended to take me, had only settled for my mind because of their own fear. No other threat would have been strong enough. Junnie had stepped in and used their superstition, their regard for the beast to quell their desire for domination. They had trapped me, held me prisoner, and when I’d finally been returned, I had been attacked again. In my own castle.
I couldn’t know if that was council as well, but the silver boy’s hair was too light, his eyes too dull. He wasn’t of the north. And if council had never displaced us, none of this would have happened. I wouldn’t have been riding out to control uprisings, and I wouldn’t have been attacked yet again. By fairies. I bit down a growl.
“I’ve brought you some tea,” Ruby announced from the door. I sighed, and the movement brought pain again.
She sat the cup on my table and took a chair beside the bed. I continued staring at the ceiling, because it hurt less to lie still. She didn’t ask how I felt.
“While you were gone, I arranged some of your things,” she said.
I didn’t take time to speculate whether she’d been trying to annoy me, teach me a lesson for shutting her in the castle with a babysitter, or if she was simply attempting to distract me.
“I’ve been wondering about something I found. The scroll.”