The Black King (Book 7) (11 page)

Ace slowed and waved a small arm so that the Gull Riders following him would slow as well. He wanted to surprise the ambushers.

With a flick of his fingers, he indicated to his troop to spread out, fly carefully, and search. Eight Gull Riders could cover a lot of distance. It would be hard to see anyone in the trees, particularly Islanders, camouflaged against the wood. However, the archers would have to be close enough to the edges of those bluffs to see the ship.

Ace swooped closer to the trees. The bark was black and gray in the places where it had ripped off. Most of the trees were pines, but the undergrowth was dead or in its winter dormancy. That helped a little.

He saw a tree limb shake, an unnatural movement that had nothing to do with wind. With his right hand, he signaled his troop. He banked above the tree, then circled it, so that the others would know where he went. Then he flew under the branches.

An Islander, solid with muscle, his blond hair thinning, sat in the fork of a thick branch. He had an excellent view of the water. He leaned forward just enough so that he could grab arrows from his quiver.

Ace slipped behind him and grabbed the shaft of an arrow in his beak. Then he flew out of the branches, circled, and headed back toward the archer. The archer didn’t turn, apparently not observant enough to notice the Fey man on the bird’s back or the arrow in the bird’s beak.

Quietly, Ace landed on the branch just behind the fork, right next to the trunk. He reached down and took the arrow out of his beak. The arrow’s shaft was almost too thick to hold in his tiny hand. He’d never tried this maneuver before. He hoped it would work.

He shifted back into his Fey form. His legs sprouted from the gull’s feet, and his arms grew. With his free hand, he braced himself so that he wouldn’t slip on the branch. The gull’s body absorbed into his stomach.

The arrow nearly fell as his hand changed size, but he managed to grasp the shaft between his thumb and forefinger. Keeping a solid hold on the arrow was proving the most difficult part.

The archer didn’t seem to notice. He was leaning farther forward on the branch. In the distance, Ace could barely make out the white sails of the Tashil ship. They looked like white dots on the horizon.

Ace got a solid grip on the arrow and pushed himself toward the fork. As he moved on the branch, it bounced. The archer turned, and Ace shoved the arrow, point forward, into the man’s eye.

The archer screamed, and clutched his face. His bow fell, clattering as it hit branches on the way down. Ace grabbed the man’s hands with one of his own, and yanked another arrow out of the quiver.

“Tell me who you work for or I’ll take out the other eye,” he said in Fey.

The man was shaking his head and sobbing. He spoke in a language that Ace did not understand.

Ace cursed, and then repeated himself in Nyeian.

The man shook his head again. Useless piece of dirt. Ace couldn’t get information from him because the man only spoke the Islander’s language.

Ace shoved the second arrow into the man’s throat. The man gurgled, his remaining eye clouding over. Then Ace pushed him off the branch into the water below.

He landed, moments later, with a loud splash.

Ace sighed and wiped his hands on the tree bark. The blood stained it, making it even darker. Then he propped his feet on the branch and shifted back into his Gull form. He had to get one of these bastards to talk. Gift may have had an idea who wanted him dead, but Ace wanted confirmation.

The next tree was shaking as well, and so was the tree beyond that and the tree beyond that. His Gull Riders, attempting to find out who wanted the Black Heir dead.

Ace flew to the next tree.

Abdal was in his Fey form, holding an unfamiliar knife to an archer’s throat. The archer’s quiver had spilled arrows down the tree and onto the ground. The bow was caught in a branch just below them. There was blood on the archer’s chin but he looked oddly calm.

Abdal’s hand was shaking. Gull Riders were not normally soldiers. Usually they were scouts. Abdal hadn’t even gone on the raid against the first archers. Now he was here, in an unfamiliar place.

“Who hired you?” he asked again in Fey.

The archer had an unlined face, kept carefully blank. Ace couldn’t tell if the man understood or not.

He flew to the nearest branch and peered down. The archer saw him, but said nothing.

“Try Nyeian,” Ace said.

Abdal sighed. “I already have.”

“Islander?”

“I don’t speak it.”

But Ace had the sense that the archer was following this conversation. Something in the stillness of the man’s body, something in his eyes....

Ace hopped down a branch and looked closer. The archer turned away. Ace’s heart started to pound.

“Look at me,” he said in Fey.

The archer closed his eyes.

Abdal’s mouth opened slightly. With his free hand, he grabbed the archer’s chin, and yanked the archer’s face toward Ace.

“Look at me,” Ace said again.

The archer kept his eyes closed. Ace wanted to shift, but didn’t dare. He’d lose his perch on the branch. Instead he leaned closer and rested the tip of his beak against the archer’s right eyelid.

“Look at me,” Ace said, “or I’ll remove your eye myself.”

The man’s eyes flew open, and Ace gasped in spite of himself. Gold flecks. The archer had gold flecks in his eyes.

He was a Doppelgänger. Doppelgängers killed their hosts and took their host’s form, along with his memories. This Doppelgänger had killed an Islander who had been part of this assassination team and had taken his place without anyone suspecting. The only thing that gave him away—that gave all Doppelgängers away—was the gold flecks in his eyes.

“Who sent you?” Ace asked.

The man’s mouth formed a thin line.

Ace pushed on the eyelid. “Tell me who sent you or I swear I’ll disfigure you in ways you’ll never forget.”

“All right,” the man said in perfect Fey. His voice was raspy because of the knife against his throat. “Take your beak out of my eye, and I’ll tell you.”

Ace took a step backwards. The man sat up, carefully so as not to lose his balance. Abdal kept a grip on the knife.

“We heard talk about an uprising among the Islanders,” the man said. “I was sent here to find out what was going on.”

“We?” Ace asked.

The man nodded. He wiped at his chin. Blood smeared across his fingers. “I report to the palace.”

Ace went cold. He had thought that Gift and his sister Arianna were on good terms. “To whom at the palace?”

“The Black Family.”

“Queen Arianna?”

“Her uncle and cousin have joined her now.”

Ace swallowed. Bridge hadn’t seemed like a cunning man, but Lyndred—beautiful Lyndred—had been cunning. Would she have sent someone after her own cousin?

“What were you supposed to do here?”

“Find out what was happening.”

“You’re here with a group of assassins. Weren’t you supposed to stop them?”

“As an Islander? With a bow and arrow? What was the chance of that?”

“I don’t care about chances,” Ace said. “I care about your orders.”

“My orders were to report.”

“And to shoot Gift if you saw him?”

The man shook his head.

“But you weren’t supposed to save him either, were you?”

“I assumed there were others who were supposed to do that,” the man said. It sounded like a lie.

“What’s your name?” Ace asked.

“Reginald.” A Nyeian name. He was young then. He had probably come to the Isle with Rugad.

Now Ace had to figure out what to do with him. They couldn’t bring him to the ship. A Doppelgänger was dangerous, particularly around non-Fey like the Nyeians. With one grasp of a hand, he could bring someone close, then put his fingers in his eyes, his thumb in their mouth, and pull their essence out of them. He could transform himself into someone else in a matter of minutes.

Of course, once they found the bones, they’d search for him, but he could be long gone. And things would get worse if he tried to take over Gift.

Ace shuddered. That violated Fey code, but Reginald’s presence seemed to do that anyway.

“Are you done questioning him?” Abdal asked.

Ace shook his head. His bird head stayed in place, watching Reginald. It seemed to unnerve him. “I thought Gift was popular with the Islanders.”

“They don’t know him.” Reginald was as far back on the branch as he could be. It was bending slightly. Too much weight and it would break. Ace wondered if Reginald could survive the fall into the river.

“They’re trying to kill him because they don’t know him?”

“Rumors have been flying all over this part of the Isle. It’s said he touched the Black Throne and now he wants to be Black King. It’s said once he becomes king, he’ll kill every Islander”

Ace lifted his wings, a gull sign of surprise. “You believe that?”

“I believe he’s touched the Throne. I believe he went to the Eccrasian Mountains to find a way to overthrow his sister.”

Ace turned his bird head toward Abdal. Abdal looked as surprised as Ace felt.

“What about the Blood against Blood?” Abdal asked.

“He could overthrow her without killing her,” Reginald said. “She’s peaceful. She needs someone to defend her.”

“Is that why you’re here?” Ace asked. “I thought your orders came from the palace.”

“I didn’t say they came from her.”

“Wouldn’t she know if someone had sent you here?” Abdal asked.

“Why would you follow someone else’s orders?” Ace asked.

“I don’t speak to the Black Queen directly,” Reginald said. “My orders always come from someone else.”

“Who did they come from this time?”

“Jair,” Reginald said.

“And he is?” Ace asked.

“The head of the Fey Infantry on the Isle.”

“A Doppelgänger taking orders from the Infantry?”

Reginald looked a bit guilty. “Sometimes. Things aren’t as structured here.”

“I guess not,” Abdal said.

“You took orders from an Infantry leader, orders that could lead to the death of the Black Heir, and you didn’t question them?” Ace’s voice rose. He had to concentrate to keep it down slightly.

“No one said to kill him.”

“No one said to defend him either,” Ace said.

Reginald’s cheeks flushed. “Isn’t that why you guys are here?”

“Gull Riders as a defense?” Abdal said.

“You were doing pretty good,” Reginald said, touching his throat.

“Better than you do when you lie.” Ace hopped a little closer. “If you were ordered not to defend the Black Heir, aren’t you worried that your actions could cause Blood against Blood?”

“I’m not of the Black Family,” Reginald said.

“But you have three members in the palace. Arianna, Bridge, and Lyndred. What if your orders came from one of them?”

“
No one told me to kill anyone!
” Reginald scooted back just a little farther. “Besides, he touched the Black Throne.”

“How do you know?” Ace said.

Reginald’s flush grew deeper. “The Visionaries, like Jair, they all saw a black stream cross the sky. They all knew the power came from the Throne. Only a member of the Black Family could have done that. Only Gift was close.”

“Do you know that for a fact?”

Reginald frowned.

“What of Rugan, Rugat, or Golden?” Ace said, listing Bridge’s siblings. “What if it had been one of their children?”

“I don’t know.” Clearly Reginald hadn’t thought of that. “I don’t think the Shaman would have let them into the mountains.”

“The Shaman, denying a member of the Black Family?”

“They can’t,” Abdal said. “By law. The Black Family must be allowed access to the Black Throne. You know that.”

A few yards away, someone screamed. Reginald’s head turned. A body—an Islander, his white skin and blond hair vivid in the gray light—broke through one of the trees and fell, slapping against the bluff with a sickening thud. He landed with a smack in the water below.

Reginald swallowed. “I’d forgotten it.”

This time, Ace knew he was speaking the truth. “If you were ordered here, then why are the Islanders here?”

“I told you,” Reginald said. “They believe Gift is going to slaughter them all.”

“Where did that belief come from?”

Reginald shrugged. “I didn’t know about it until I joined them.”

“Think,” Abdal said. “You have memories from your host. Use them.”

Reginald glanced at the water below. He seemed to realize how close to the edge he was. “They were rumors. Everyone heard them.”

“Everyone?”

“All the Islanders in my host’s village.”

“And who spread those rumors?”

Reginald shrugged.

Ace was feeling frustrated. “How did they know Gift was coming back?”

Reginald spread his hands. “I really don’t know. My host didn’t know. Someone put the rumor out there, and the Islanders believed it.”

“Someone,” Ace said. “Someone who knew Gift was coming.”

“It leads back to the palace, doesn’t it?” Abdal said.

Ace turned both of his heads toward Reginald. “Blood against Blood.”

Reginald was shaking. “I wouldn’t have caused it.”

“But you would have let a Black Heir die.”

“I thought he was going to cause it,” Reginald said.

Truth at last. Reginald would have let a member of the Black Family die to protect the Fey. Maybe they all would, if they believed it. But Ace had traveled with Gift for months now, and had never seen that kind of evil in him.

“What do I do with you?” Ace asked Reginald.

“You kill him,” Abdal said. “He already said he would have let Gift die.”

Ace was staring at Reginald. Reginald glanced at the water below, probably calculating whether or not he’d survive the fall. Another scream echoed, harsh and raspy. Ace’s people were doing their work.

Reginald glanced at him. “I’ll find out who gave the orders.”

“You already told me,” Ace said. “Jair.”

“No,” Reginald said. “Who gave
him
the orders.”

“Why should I trust you?”

“Because I wouldn’t bring on the Blood against Blood.”

“You nearly did.” Ace said.