I felt wretched.
“Chevelle Vattier. Born of North Camber, Guard of the Seven, Second to the Lord.” I held his eyes, skipping over the part that listed his mother and father, though it was secret to none. I’d already all but slapped him in the face.
Aside from the intake of breath, which might have been Ruby, silence smothered the room. I gave it a heartbeat, two, three. It crossed my mind that I should have prepared my guard further, but I couldn’t be sure, even now, what the clans’ response would be. They could oppose it, but it would call for their death to question my order so blatantly. They could fight, but they would lose. They might have had a chance, if they had all agreed, prepared before coming, but they hadn’t known. And I had the support of at least a few here. I hoped the rest simply accepted it. Far too many had died only the night before, I didn’t want to go through it again.
After several more minutes of quiet, I glanced around the room. For the most part, everyone in attendance seemed confused, and eager to get out with their lives. No one wanted to be caught up in bloodshed here, in the castle.
Chevelle stood completely motionless. Expressionless. As if a statue in the costume of a guard.
“I call you forward to bear this token,” I announced.
He seemed hesitant to move and I drew in several long breaths through my nose. The token was nearly meaningless to all others. Mine had been the amulet. The same amulet Asher had previously given my mother. I hadn’t wanted it, had returned it to her, and she had worn it the day she burned. It was all that survived the fire, and they’d left it with me when they’d taken me to the village.
Chevelle finally made his way across the room, coming to stand at my right. I turned to him, nodding to his arm as I pulled the thin leather strip from my belt. I had retrieved it from the box of things he’d returned to me, and when he saw it, I knew he recognized it. The slightest twitch at the corner of his mouth was the only indication he might someday forgive me.
My hands were trembling, but there was nothing to be done for it. I tied the strip around his wrist, knotting it over his cuff to complete the ceremony.
I turned back to face the room. “As the High Guard bears witness, so bear the agents of the north. It is decreed this day, until the hour of our death, by no means disputed.”
“Hear, hear,” the Seven chorused.
“Hear, hear,” repeated the crowd.
After that, I had quickly dismissed the meeting and exited the hall. Now I sat perched on top of the castle, watching tiny little bands of the leaders of the realm scurry from the grounds. Even from this height, I could spot Rhys and Rider’s shocks of silvery white hair in the moonlight. It was cold, it was late, and I couldn’t decide if I wanted Chevelle to show, or if I was petrified he’d find me.
He didn’t come.
I fell asleep there, waiting for something happen, or hiding from just that. When I woke, it was full dark, the moon covered by vaporous cloud. I’d been dreaming, an odd one featuring Steed and Ruby. They were flying through the air, drunk on the effects of dust, and she was giggling uncontrollably. It might have been funny, seeing Ruby race through the air, red curls flowing, laughing riotously, if I hadn’t seen the raids as a child.
They would sneak in, hundreds of them, flitting through the castle at incredible speeds. Some of them were nearly too quick to see, except that they never went unnoticed. Chaos and madness were left in their wake. They destroyed, pillaged, ransacked. They set fires, loosed floods, poisoned. They were tiny, sparkling furies, bent on destruction. Asher had nearly declared war, but was finally able to quell the attacks.
I stood, ready to make my way back for warmth and maybe some food, and was thrown forward, almost knocked from my perch. I grabbed a stone pillar and fell back into a squat, looking behind me before jumping down to the roof. It might have been a strong gust of wind. If it hadn’t giggled.
As soon as I saw the sky was clear, I leapt from the roof, into the window, and ran the corridors full speed. It hadn’t been a dream. That meant they’d been here too long already.
A dull thump and a scraping noise echoed through the halls from far off. The torches came alive, flames flaring at full heat. A half dozen more steps and I rounded a corner, meeting Grey, who was heading for me at what had to be his own top speed. Where were they?
“East wing,” he said, answering my thought.
They’d sent Grey because he was the fastest. At the atrium outside of the east wing, Chevelle and Steed joined us. Chevelle’s right side was splattered with blood and glitter. Steed looked as if he might be sick.
“Where is Ruby?” I asked, frantic. Steed glanced toward the clamor. “They will take her!” I shouted. It appeared they’d not even considered the danger.
Chevelle nodded, but I could see his concern lay elsewhere.