Rise of the Seven (The Frey Saga, #3)(16)

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.”

I could see the words as plain as if they were before me now. Fellon Strago Dreg.

“I’ve looked everywhere,” she explained, “they are in no book that I have discovered.”

My mother’s script. A warning.

“I thought that maybe–”

Her words cut off as I stood, holding my breath to control the pain.

She stared at me.

“Ruby, gather the guard. We are going on a trip.”

Her face was blank for a moment, but as I moved toward the closet, she walked swiftly from the room. I bit down hard as I pulled the shirt over my head and then replaced it with another, lacing a vest tight against my ribcage. I struggled into my boots and grabbed a cloak before heading to the study.

Ruby was fast, they were all there waiting for me. By the way they watched me, I thought she might have told them I’d lost it, but they were there.

“Prepare the horses.”

They stared at me.

“We ride out for Junnie.”

The stillness of the room erupted into disorder. I raised a hand and they settled again.

“This is no coincidence.”

“You think she would employ the fey?” Chevelle asked incredulously.

I shook my head. “I cannot be certain any of this is her doing. But we will find out.”

“She has the most to gain,” Ruby said.

“Junnie has done nothing but assist in Frey’s return,” Grey replied.

“As such, she would have aided herself,” Rhys said.

“She wouldn’t be able to raise a new council with a lord who stood against her,” Rider agreed.

I couldn’t dispute that. Junnie might have merely seen me as the lesser of two evils. But I couldn’t say I didn’t feel the same way about her and this supposed new council compared with the old.

“Did she not risk all when she saved Frey from the massacre?” Steed asked. “Was she not honoring her family? Defending their birthright? Why else would she have rescued Francine from the same fate?”

“Fannie could never have been truly saved,” Chevelle answered.

It was true. She had approached council for protection, the only place left for her to turn. It started something that she could not have anticipated, but none of that would have changed her outcome.

She had reaped her revenge on council. But she had gone back to Asher, and she had paid for that with her life.

They continued the exchange, but it was nothing but useless speculation. The only one who hadn’t voiced an opinion was Anvil. When the conversation died down, I looked to him.

He sighed, his large chest rising before falling in a kind of defeated gesture. Anvil had been around for as long as I could remember, strong and solid. But as I watched him now, I could see the first signs of age on his face, the smallest creases around his eyes and mouth. He didn’t want to tell me the last of my family could be my greatest adversary. But he was loyal. “Power can turn any.”

It was the only answer I needed. “Mount up.”





Chapter Nine


Journey





We rode through Camber on our way, making no secret of our travels. The guard took formation, which would have been intimidation enough, but as we came through the southern encampments, we took the time to enforce our rule, make a show of our presence.

By nightfall, the ache in my side had become unrelenting. When the vague outline of a structure came into view, I realized I’d stopped paying attention to my surroundings, simply riding along with the others. I was grateful to see the fort, downright rapturous when the horses came to rest. Chevelle was at my side, gingerly lifting me down, and the sense of relief was overwhelming.

We settled inside the walls, under an open sky, where Ruby had lit a nice fire. The warmth eased my muscles, tired from working to hold myself still against the jostling of the ride, and having a purpose improved my mood, regardless of the possible outcome.