Frey

Chapter 10

The next morning, Ruby was in the main room, waiting for me. She impatiently instructed me to bathe and change, explaining that we would be spending the day training. I followed her directions but couldn't decide whether to be grateful or worried when the clothes she'd laid out for me—utilitarian and unadorned with her usual baubles—were plainly meant for a hard day. It was still early as we stole out the back, cloaks covering our heads as we made our way to the ridge.

Steed, Chevelle, Grey, and Anvil were already there. I imagined the others—the silver twins, Rhys and Rider, and their dogs—were somewhere nearby, though I couldn't see them. Watchdogs, I thought, all four. It was comforting, but Ruby wasted no time in getting to training. She immediately trounced me repeatedly, cracking her whip, besting me with fire, and even overpowering me despite her slight frame. I felt defeated before we'd gone even an hour.

After watching us for a while, Steed stepped in to save me. "Frey"—he'd adopted the nickname the others used in place of the sunnier ones—"why don't you take a break for a while? Let us spar so you can watch. We'll give you a few pointers."

I didn't know if I liked the idea of the group sparring, whether it gave me a break from the torture or not, but Grey stepped forward, and my opinion no longer mattered.

"Just watch and learn," Steed said.

I backed away and sat cross-legged on the ground. Ruby joined me, and I could tell she was excited. It seemed everything excited Ruby—everything that made me nervous, anyway.

Steed and Grey stood opposite each other in the center of the clearing. Both were tall, and though Steed easily had him in breadth, I'd seen Grey move—he was fast. A cursory nod at one another signaled the onset of the bout, and both tensed and crouched slightly into a ready stance. I found myself leaning forward as we waited. Chevelle moved to stand beside me, also intent. Grey wagged his eyebrows at Steed, taunting him to make the first move.

"Come on, blossom," Steed teased back, "let's see what you've got."

At that, Grey disappeared, and then, in a flash, he was behind Steed, reaching up to smack him in the back of the head. The instant before he struck, Steed ducked into a squat and spun, taking Grey's legs out from under him. I flinched. Grey was gone again, that time reappearing midair in a flip above Steed's head, reaching down to tag him with a loud smack on the way by. I was sure it had stung. Steed stood still, focused on the spot where Grey had landed and was flickering in and out of view. I made an effort to consider possible responses in my head but was coming up blank.

The nerves were gone. I found myself wanting Steed to win and leaned with his strikes, tensing as if they were my own. Grey bounded through the air once more, showing off, confident in his evident lead, and then a small rock rose at chest height in front of Steed. I was trying to figure out who had lifted it when Grey flashed back into view, hesitating only a moment as he considered the rock. At once, his face changed—he knew he'd been beaten. As he'd paused to study the floating rock, Steed had immobilized him and, just like that, the match was over.

Ruby leaned into me. "Steed is stronger than Grey," she said in a soft voice. "He only needed to catch him."

Grey conceded, his walk slower and his movements no longer restless as he made his way out of the makeshift ring. Steed threw me a quick wink.

Anvil approached next, stepping into the same starting position Grey had used, and Steed shifted several paces back before he readied himself and nodded toward his new opponent. I remembered the tree and was suddenly afraid for him, wondering whether Anvil would use the same method on a person.

A thunderous crack answered my unspoken question. The lightning bolt was faster than my eyes at such a close distance, but by the time I looked at Steed, there was nothing but a wall of water. He had constructed a barrier of sorts, caught the strike, and redirected it around himself by melting the snow that spotted the mountain. Anvil was winded, though the strike wasn't as severe as his previous show. Steed would unquestionably be the winner, and as he took aim to retaliate, his opponent raised his hands in surrender.