Pieces of Eight (The Frey Saga, #2)

I woke unsettled. The group still seemed in their elevated moods, but I couldn’t shake the foreboding. I was quiet as we mounted and started back on our path. We had been riding long enough that the way had settled some. It wasn’t as steep or rocky as it had been so I was able to relax a little, physically anyway.

I guessed it was because I was thinking of her, but I realized that I knew something about Fannie. Something that I was sure hadn't been explained to me. It might have only been a dream but it seemed like it had just come back, or been there, unnoticed until I'd thought of her. However it had happened, it was there and it was, like all my other "new" memories, odd.

What I knew was that Fannie had been skipped over, older and rightfully next in line for the throne before her sister. Their father had for all public purposes disowned her, instead choosing my mother as his secondary, his heir. The details weren't all there in my mind but I remembered from reading my mother's diary that from an early age Fannie had been shunned for her light features, a product of her mother's heritage, and was a disappointment because of her lack of power, or maybe a uniqueness, that her sister apparently possessed.

It was disturbing to turn up new information in such a way. Most of the recovered memories came to me in dreams, which could be slightly confusing at times because the dreams often seemed real enough to be memories and the memories often so strange they could have been dreams. Chevelle had once told me that he thought the memories found their way out easier in my sleep, that they didn't have to fight so hard to be released from their bonds while my mind was resting and unable to resist. It had made sense. But now, now I wasn't sure they couldn't just slip through at any time. Or maybe they were there and I simply hadn't sifted through them enough to find out. A shiver ran through me, though I was wrapped tightly in my cloak.

A rock clattered down the path, knocked loose from a horse hoof, and I stiffened. Embarrassed, I adjusted in my saddle and tried to relax my posture before anyone saw how jumpy I was. I casually looked right and left, checking the faces of the others. They seemed oblivious. Or maybe they were just getting used to me.

The dream had shaken me and I needed some peace of mind so I closed my eyes and drifted, finding solace in the bird soaring overhead. Once above, I glided for a while in large, calming circles. Eventually, I looked down at our group and then scanned farther out, surveying the mountain and our path ahead. I wasn’t positive where we’d be going, but if I could do a sweep of the land every morning… or maybe a few times a day…

And then I was back in my own head again. Gah, what had I gotten myself into now? Hunting Grand Council, scoping out the perimeter, planning to capture animals for use in battle. I decided that I might have been nuts; that maybe people weren’t looking at me like I was an idiot all the time, maybe they were wondering if I was crazy. But in the back of my mind I had to fight a thought that said I might be. After all, my mother had been. I felt my face pinch up and tried to smooth it out before someone noticed.

I realized they were otherwise occupied when Grey began whistling a tune and asked Anvil to join in, provoking him about his tongue. Anvil flung a metal stud from his vest at him in retaliation and it must have been carrying electricity because the instant it hit Grey he jerked, almost losing his seat. Steed laughed wildly and it wasn't long before a mêlée between the three ensued. I was starting to enjoy the spectacle, though segments of it did look pretty painful, but Chevelle eventually stepped in, informing them that he could think of a better use of their energy. I thought I saw him smirk when, several minutes later, Steed and Grey were still twitching.

And then an image came to my mind. For no reason that I could come up with, I saw, or rather, remembered someone. There was a split second of astonishment before fear choked me.

It must have been audible because instantly the others were surrounding me, confused and concerned and ready to act. “What?” I heard someone say, but I wasn’t sure who. My ears were ringing again but I couldn’t bring myself to be irritated because I was overwhelmed with fear that was quickly turning into hatred.

I made an effort to focus when Chevelle was suddenly in front of me. I thought he’d grabbed me by the arms and pulled me from my horse, but I couldn’t be sure because when I was finally able to bring myself back to the moment, he was all I could see. So close, right in front of me, demanding my attention. But it was good he was close, because I was only capable of a whisper. “Archer Lake.”

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