Frey (7 page)

A half mile or so later, I
came upon a suitable hollow in a low embankment. I gathered some
shrubbery to cover the entryway and give me a little more security,
or at least the feeling of it. It wasn’t dark yet but I went ahead
and settled in, sitting so I could see through an opening in the
shrub door I’d created. It was quiet and I had to fight the
thoughts that were trying to creep in. I began to run songs through
my head for distraction, mangling the lyrics and humming through
the parts I couldn’t remember at all. …
and
she’s a tall long dawn…. wanna freedom of drink… yeah, yeah,
yeah
…

A flicker of movement just
outside stopped me. I held my breath for what I was sure was
impending, and painful, death. There it was again. I blew the
breath out.
No, not my
last
. A small gray bunny was loping a few
feet in front of the bushes. My stomach was interested, but I’d
never prepared meat, I’d only ever gathered berries and vegetables
(that someone else had grown). I didn’t have the first idea how to
make a bow, let alone shoot one. I’d never actually killed
anything, except plants.
And a bird.
Yes, I’d killed a bird. But I had no idea if an
animal killed by magic was viable. I thought of the thistle, its
black roots, how it had turned to ash. The bunny sniffed at the air
in my direction and then continued on its way.
Well, that answers that.

I was sitting in a hole, utterly alone, and
it was beginning to get dark. I lit a small flame and decided to
practice my fire magic. I leaned forward and danced the little
flame back and forth in front of me. My control had progressed a
good deal since my training; it seemed almost easy to navigate a
small flame. I smoothed it out into a line and traced arcs and then
more intricate designs. The designs started to resemble portraits
and I had to concentrate hard to keep from seeing them. I tried to
focus on landscapes and then those went from tiny village houses
and small trees to rolling hills and curving creeks and then the
hills to mountains that eventually melted into unidentifiable
monsters. I snuffed the flame with a wave and the den was black
with darkness. The clouds broke and the soft glow of moonlight
filtered in through the opening. I leaned over on an elbow and
examined the glistening patches of light on my twisting hand. I
lowered my head, using my arm as a pillow, and fell into a peaceful
sleep.

Chapter Seven

Steed

The next morning, I woke to find rays of sun
had replaced the moonlight in the tiny hole. I considered covering
my head and sleeping longer but my stomach ached for food. I
crawled out and squinted through the bright light to find
something, anything really. I was able to locate a few roots and
greens, not great, but enough to tide me over until I could figure
out a way to hunt.

I grabbed my pack and headed north again.
There were plenty of streams and the occasional berry patch along
the way. And the route was undemanding; the ground was smooth,
nothing too overgrown to make passage difficult. I carried on
without incident for days as the rolling hills continued, making
each new day a surprise. I was glad; this might have seemed
daunting if I could have seen hundreds of miles straight ahead of
nothingness, just flat plains. I was moving every moment of light
and sleeping every moment of darkness. I concentrated on each step,
breathing in the new scents, doing anything I could to keep my mind
on task instead of the dark thoughts gnawing at me.

I was counting my steps when I came over the
top of another hill and saw a bridge in the valley. I hesitated and
then slowly made my way down the hill, trying to decide if a bridge
meant a village and a village meant elves. I was fully prepared to
run by the time I reached the bridge. It was rather large, stacked
gray stone like those that had been appearing more frequently on my
path. Water flowed quietly beneath and smoothed the stones at the
base. It looked like it had been in place for centuries.

I crossed and saw there was a light path on
the other side so I swung wide and through the trees instead. And
then the scent of roasting meat caught my attention. I found myself
following it, despite my concerns about other elves. The trees
broke to a small clearing and I spotted a cloaked figure leaning
over a spit. I tried to get a better view, I was sure it was an
elf, male from his size. The smell of real food was consuming, I
was watching the meat as I moved again and crushed a dry leaf
beneath my shoe.

“
Come then, there’s plenty
for both of us.”

Damn
. I walked cautiously out of the trees as he turned to me. He
tossed the cloak aside and stood proud, his right leg propped up on
a rock as if posing. He gestured to a large log beside the fire and
I sat obediently. Too late to hide; might as well enjoy the
feast.

He reached down and tore a
hunk of meat from the spit and tossed it to me, winking as I caught
it. I flushed and he smiled a wicked smile. He was tall and broad
with dark hair and eyes.
Like
Chevelle
. Handsome too, I supposed, though
I could tell from the first few moments he was a little cocky. He
reminded me of Evelyn, always so proud of herself for finding me
out.

He watched me as I ate. I realized I had
devoured the large piece in no time, I hoped I looked appropriately
abashed as he laughed and threw me another chunk. As I finished the
second serving, he stepped closer and sat on a rock beside me. He
held his hand out to the side and a canteen flew up from a pile of
things on the other side of the fire. He passed it to me, still
smiling, and I tilted it back, expecting cool water. I almost
choked when warm wine hit my throat. He laughed again, leaning
forward as I lowered the container.

He was uncomfortably close
and was eyeing me with what I was certain was the same look I'd
just given my meal. I figured he'd sensed my discomfort when he
started to move, but he just stood, which brought him even
closer.
Well, parts of
him
. I turned toward the fire.

I jumped a little when the first tree
uprooted across the clearing. He laughed as the second and third
followed.

“
You look like you’ll need
shelter, Sunshine.”

I stared at him in disbelief
as the trees split and began forming a hut. He was laughing again
as he shot me another wink, I couldn’t be sure he was kidding. As
the tearing and slamming noises ceased, I examined the hut. Quite
impressive really. He didn’t even seem to be watching, let alone
concentrating. And no blessings on it, no thanks to Mother Earth.
It seemed he was just enjoying himself, not being responsible to
the magic.
Magic. Yes, he was very good
with magic
. I started to open my mouth and
then stopped. I had no idea who this was and I probably shouldn’t
let him know who
I
was.

He’d noticed my open mouth, blank expression,
and sat again, eyeing me questioningly, all humor gone.

“
You seem to be really good
at magic.” I was almost mumbling.

He laughed. “Is that so?”

“
Yes, well, I… I need to
learn,” I said timidly.

“
Learn?” The humor was gone
again. “What do you mean learn?”

“
I’ve never learned, well,
except for fire, and I need to learn… someone to teach me… and
you’re…” I was in danger of rambling.

He was looking at me as if I had just
professed cannibalism.

“
I’ll need food and… well,
and shelter.”

“
I don’t understand…” He
appeared concerned, like I might have been mentally ill.

“
I’ve lost my mentor. Can
you teach me magic? Help me, so I don’t do something out of order,
hurt myself?”

His eyebrows drew together as he began to
reply.

A branch snapped at the edge of the clearing
and his head turned instantly. I sucked in a harsh breath as I saw
Chevelle walking toward us. The elf that had been sitting with me,
jovial since I’d met him, was now in a fiercely protective stance
in front of me. I leaned around him to see, placing my hand on his
leg as I angled my head past it. That broke his stare and he looked
down at me. I watched Chevelle, still walking toward us, casual, as
if there weren’t two angry panthers preparing to pounce on him. I
must have appeared about as threatening as a mad kitten because the
leg I was gripping shook a little with laughter. I turned my angry
gaze on him and he raised his hands in surrender, still laughing
quietly.

“
I take it you know him?” he
asked.

“
He’s following me,” I
announced loudly.

His eyes were concerned for a moment so I
relaxed my anger and stood behind him. Chevelle approached us and
looked directly at me, ignoring the large elf between us. He seemed
for one half second irritated then relieved before his features
melted back into the standard polite sternness. I started to berate
him for being my watcher but then I remembered I was on the run. I
remembered the elf in front of me; I remembered and decided to keep
my mouth shut about everything.

A large arm wrapped around my shoulder and
drew me forward. “Introduce us, Buttercup.” I grimaced. He was
certainly enjoying himself.

Chevelle held his hand out in a formal
greeting. “Chevelle Vattier.”

“
Vattier, eh?” I thought I
heard him under his breath, “
well you can
call me Bonnie Bell
.” Chevelle waited
unmoved for his response. He finally held his hand out in return,
“Steed. Steed Summit.”

They both shot me a
disbelieving glare as a giggle slipped out.
Of course that was his name
. I
struggled to stay composed. At least I finally knew someone with a
cornier name than mine.

I realized he was still staring at me. He
didn’t seem to think it was funny at all. “Our lineage is long and
we breed the best stallions in the land.”

Chevelle spoke up as if he had been the
intended recipient of the comment. “Yes, I have heard much
regarding the lines of Free Runner and Grand Spirit. Tell me, is
that what brings you out this far?”

They carried on the exchange
and Chevelle explained we’d be needing horses.
Great, so that’s it, huh? Going back to the village. Sentence
by council.
Plans were made for a trade,
Steed would bring in the herd and we would choose in the morning.
They kept talking, settling into conversation. Steed offered
Chevelle what was left of the roast and they sat, Chevelle beside
me and Steed across from us, forming a triangle. I picked up the
canteen and choked down more wine.

The evening carried on and though the
conversation still held a formal tone, neither man talking of
anything personal, they seemed to be getting along. I faded in and
out of the various discussions, listening occasionally but never
talking. Steed seemed very aware of me. He was looking at me in a
way no one ever had. It must have been obvious because when he
excused himself to check the herd, Chevelle studied me, sliding a
strand of my now black hair through his fingers. “It suits
you.”

Maybe it was the wine, but
as I looked at him, my anger was fading. It was hard to believe the
concern wasn’t real. His eyes burned with intensity; they seemed
even darker now.
Dark… like
mine
. I looked away.

Steed broke in through the trees.

“
They aren’t
far.”

As he approached, he glanced at me and then
Chevelle, close beside me.

“
We can get an early start.”
I realized he was carrying a pack now. “Bluebell?”

I stood and followed him into the hut, not
missing the irritation on Chevelle’s face. He unclasped the pack
and rolled the blankets out with a flip and then smiled and nodded
his head good evening before stepping back outside. I unlaced my
vest and threw it down, kicked off my shoes and flopped onto the
blankets. I stretched, happy to lie on a comfortable bed, under a
roof with no sunrise waking me. It was quiet outside, no more
conversation between the men. I slipped off to sleep, trying not to
think about my capture and coming return to the village.

“
Freya.”

A low voice broke into my dreams of gently
rolling hills and soft gray stone. I peered through slits and
spotted Chevelle standing a few feet from my bed, facing the door.
It was dim in the shelter and it took a minute to get my bearings.
I sat up and, realizing why he was facing the door, picked up the
vest and laced it over the thin material of my blouse. I slid my
shoes on and stood, following him out.

“
It’s
dawn
,” I complained.

“
And good morning,
Sunshine," a smiling Steed announced.

He was atop a large black stallion whose
nostrils flared and steamed with its breath in the cool morning
air. Two more horses pawed behind him; he twisted his wrist and
they walked toward us. A dark, muscular horse stood beside Chevelle
as a mammoth crossed in front of me and knelt. I gasped and Steed
shot me a mischievous wink.

“
Well?”

I was speechless. The beast was as large and
black as a starless night. Steed was pleased with my reaction.
Chevelle rolled his eyes but held out a hand to help me on my horse
before he swung onto his own.