Pieces of Eight (The Frey Saga, #2)(12)



A human. I could not, would not, allow myself to be compared to that. It burned right through me.

No one asked me to move, no one mentioned we should be getting on our way. No one did anything but entertain themselves with the stupid, idiotic human.

And time passed.

I had, after so long lying still, eventually moved into a sitting position. Facing away from them.

They seemed to enjoy the oddity and had all gone down in my estimation because of it. And even though Ruby and Chevelle had kept their distance from her, staying instead in close proximity to me, I wasn’t sure they weren’t included in that group. I had my suspicions that they were not disinterested, but were there to keep me in line.

I stared down, my arms wrapped tight around my knees, concentrating on picking at the dark fabric of my pants. When I heard a peculiar noise from her general direction, I wasn’t able to stop myself from looking over my shoulder, a knee-jerk reaction. She was looking at me.

That dirty little shit-monkey was looking at me.

“Ow!” I yelped when Ruby stomped my foot. Apparently, I had said that last part aloud.

My toe throbbed. But Ruby was wrong if she thought I’d be abashed. That girl had been eyeing me with pity, like I was crazy or something.

I heard the noise again but forced myself to ignore it, stomping off from the group. I mumbled under my breath that I should have let them lop her head off and Ruby made a sharp sound but I couldn’t tell whether it was a laugh or a hiss.

I spent the rest of that day on a rock at least a hundred yards away from them. And then Chevelle came to get me. I imaged he was smug; he’d intended to be done with her right then and there. I’d stopped him, I hadn’t wanted them to kill her. The realization lessened my irrational anger just enough to allow me to breathe a little. I hadn’t noticed how tight my chest was. I tried to relax it as he stood beside me.

“We should continue tomorrow.” He was so hard to read. I could only really tell when he was angry.

I nodded.

He looked like he might reach out to me, comfort me (or possibly smack me for my tantrum), and then he turned and walked back to the camp. I sighed. And then I got up and followed.





I found I was able to cope with the human’s presence by completely ignoring it. It may have been petty, but it worked for me. It seemed that, because I had spared her life and gone into a marathon pout, which allowed them to spend time with her, the group had taken to the human and she was now to be under their care. Excluding, of course, Chevelle and Ruby, who were constantly throwing glances toward me, I presumed checking my stability.

But I had been a model of good behavior, excepting the one incident around the camp fire. Once I’d been back with the group, it wasn’t long before I’d seen the source of the peculiar noise. It was the yelp of a small dark and fluffy puppy the girl they’d been calling Molly had kept tucked under her arm, beneath her heavy shawl. When I’d proven capable of self-control, she’d given it more leeway, allowing it to romp and play for the clear delight of its new audience. Her new audience. At that moment, it inexplicably attacked her, biting at her viciously.

Like I said, excepting the one incident. The girl had been baffled by it but had immediately forgiven him, the tiny black pup with deep mahogany eyes named Snickers.





When we reached the base of the mountain, the overall feeling of discomfort in the group had built to stony silence. We were hunting down Grand Council and we had a human… pet. We made camp and Ruby escorted her from the group for privacy. It was Ruby’s only real contact with her. I was glaring in their direction, wondering why she didn’t just piddle on our blankets like the pup, when someone smacked me in the back of the head. I whipped around but couldn’t tell who had done it so I gave up and threw myself down on a stone to wait for dinner.

And then I realized they were talking about her. They were trying to be discreet, but I knew what they were saying. They were trying to figure out what to do with her. How to get rid of her. My chest tightened as I focused on the conversation.

Chevelle didn’t trust Grey or Anvil with her but I didn’t know why. Rhys and Rider had refused.

Steed spoke up. “I’ll do it.”

I was talking before I could contain myself, the words sour. “Sure you’ll take her home.”

They all turned to stare at me. It hit me that I was furious. And that I was standing. Chevelle’s face was hard. I had a flashback of the look he’d given me at Ruby’s so long ago, when he’d thought I was jealous of Steed. I decided to shut my mouth, stay out of it. I forced myself to sit back down.

But they were done. My outburst had cost me knowing their decision. I lowered my eyes to the ground as Ruby came back with the girl.

They chattered as they prepared food, as if nothing important was happening, as if this was just another common day. Ruby moved to sit with Grey and Anvil, telling stories of the fairies again. I faded in and out of her tale of Violet Moon. She had come from the South, further than any area of record, and she possessed a wicked knowledge of the changelings. The stories said she was bored with her native land and traveled North, looking for those who would not know of her disguises and deceits. My head lay cradled in darkness where my arms made a nest across my lap as Ruby began regaling us with Violet’s seduction of a young fire fairy, giving plenty of extra and unnecessary details of his physique, when I heard Steed say my name and I looked up, across the fire to him.

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