The Black King (Book 7) (30 page)

“How much time do I have?”

“As much as you need. Although the best time would be three weeks from now.”

The Assassin used his gloved hands to raise the hood. His face was hidden once again. “It will be done.”

He glided out of the room, closing the door behind him. Lyndred’s empty stomach was queasy. “You wanted me to see that. Why?”

Arianna turned back toward the window. “I made a mistake.”

Lyndred froze. She’d never heard Arianna say that before.

“I had thought, when you and your father arrived, that I would be able to use you. I believed that we would share Visions and become stronger. I needed another Visionary since I did not have the benefit of a Shaman. I got two. You, a strong and powerful Visionary, and your father, whose little feelings sometimes helped.”

This was what Lyndred had been expecting. This was the moment when Arianna would punish her.

“But now, in your distrust of me, you have stopped telling me your Visions. I am not sure, when you do tell me, that you are telling me the truth. You are no longer useful to me.”

Lyndred was breathing shallowly. Had Arianna brought the Assassin here as some kind of veiled threat? But she had made it clear that the Assassin could not,
would
not touch the Black Family.

“Your father and I discussed a military commission for you, and one for him. But I think after your actions yesterday, giving you a military berth would be tantamount to inviting my own death.”

“I told you,” Lyndred said. “I would never start the Blood.”

“After a few years of service, you would know how to achieve your ends without resorting to that,” Arianna said. “No. Your little visit to Gift yesterday, no matter how much I expected it, reminded me of lessons I learned years ago. You should always expect the worst of the people around you, Lyndred, because then they’ll never disappoint you.”

Lyndred stiffened.

“I want you and your father to leave Blue Isle. You can return to Nye if you like, but your father will no longer run it. You will hold no positions at all. And if you feel as if you’re being shadowed, you’re right. I’ll make certain Spies and others will keep an eye on you. I’ll make certain that you don’t cross any lines.”

Lyndred took a small breath. This wasn’t as bad as she had expected. “Don’t you think you should consider this more? After all, you’re all but inviting me to join your brother in whatever he chooses.”

“If he chooses wisely, he’ll go to Leut.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“I am better equipped to take care of myself than he is.”

“I will join him,” Lyndred said.

“I expected as much. If he decides he can trust you. I certainly can’t.”

“It doesn’t worry you to have me and Gift together?”

“Why should it? At least then, I’ll know what you’re doing. Here, you could sabotage me quite easily.”

Lyndred crossed her arms. “You were going to do this anyway.”

“No. I would have worked with you. The test was whether or not you would see Gift. You did. And you told him everything, despite my warnings. Despite the Visions of Blood.”

Lyndred took a step toward her. “Aren’t you afraid that by doing this, you’re the one who is going to bring the Blood down on us?”

“The battle lines were drawn the moment Gift touched the Black Throne,” Arianna said. “It doesn’t matter how many people stand on either side. I don’t believe this will be a physical war. It’ll be a war of cunning. And in any war based on that, I will win.”

Lyndred stopped. She was close enough to Arianna to see the fine lines around her eyes. “How can you believe that? You’ve never been to war. You have no experience with battles.”

“Neither do you.”

“But Gift does and so does my father.”

Arianna’s smile was small. “Minor experience. And it won’t really matter when the time comes. Soon Gift will be gone, and you will understand by then what lengths I will take to defend myself.”

“Why don’t you banish me like you’re banishing Gift?”

“I don’t need to,” Arianna said. “And besides, someday you might be useful.”

“After all this,” Lyndred said, “why would you expect me to serve you?”

“Because,” Arianna said, “you’ll have no other choice.”

TWENTY-ONE

JAHN WAS NOTHING like Constant. The streets were cobblestone, worn and flat with time. The buildings on the outskirts were white and had windows. The river ran through the center of town instead of the outskirts, and there were no mountains nearby. Matt could see them in the distance like shadows against the horizon. He couldn’t even make out the edges of the jagged peaks.

The light here was dazzling and intense, even in the winter’s chill. And the city sprawled forever. When he stopped his horse at the eastern edge, he couldn’t see the other side. He couldn’t even see the center. There were buildings everywhere. A man could disappear along those streets and no one would ever know.

He shuddered and glanced over his shoulder. The sense that he was being watched had lessened in the last two days, but sometimes he still felt as if he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Now he had an explanation for it—he was in a city, where there were hundreds, maybe thousands, of people—but the sensation of movement had been much worse in the countryside, down the mountain passes, and on the narrow trails.

The horse hadn’t spooked since that moment four days ago. Matt used that as an indicator; if someone had truly been behind him, the horse would have known it. He also figured that if people had meant him harm, they would have already attacked. He had been extremely vulnerable as he traveled alone.

Matt had ridden for half a day just to get to the center of the city. Still, he felt stunned as he came over a rise and saw the bridge ahead of him, its arch curving gracefully over a calm Cardidas River. The mid-day sun glinted off the water and nearly blinded him. He followed the road down the rise into a group of warehouses. The river smelled fishy here, and the water seemed sluggish. It was also brownish red, not the rust-red that he was used to.

His mother had once lived near here, in a small house where she had embroidered for the King and healed wounded people. One of the wounded had been Matt’s father. They had fallen in love, and never been apart from that day.

Matt knew all the stories. But he had difficulty imagining his parents here. They had seemed overwhelmed by the demands of Constant. This city, with its continual movement and abundance of people, would have dwarfed them. Yet his father had lived here from boyhood on, and had risen through the ranks of the now-dead religion to become its national leader.

Matt’s heart pounded and he kept an eye on the opposite bank of the Cardidas, hoping to see the Tabernacle where his father had served. It wasn’t until Matt was nearly to the bridge that the buildings at the water’s edge parted enough for him to see the other side.

The Tabernacle rose like a ruin out of the flat ground. It had four towers, now a smoke-scorched white, and the shadows of swords were visible on the walls. The windows were gone, and in several places the roof had collapsed.

Matt stared, wondering what it had been like when his father lived there. The fire that consumed it must have been spectacular, but his father had already been gone then.

Matt wondered what his father would think of this mission now. Coulter had said his father would be proud, and that was probably true. His father had never approved of anyone with Fey blood on Blue Isle’s throne. Now that Rugad, the Black King who had nearly killed Matt’s father and who had almost destroyed the Isle, was hiding on the throne—masquerading as his own grand-daughter, things were much worse.

His father probably would have gone into the palace with holy water hidden in his sleeves, hoping to murder the man himself. He wouldn’t have tried for something this complicated, or that required this much finesse.

The wide road leading off the bridge went from the Tabernacle to the palace. Finally Matt turned and saw his destination.

The palace was the twin building to the Tabernacle. He could see some of the Tabernacle’s past glory in the palace’s current structure. Someone had ruined the symmetry by taking down one of the four towers, but the other three rose over the city. Glass glinted in the top part of all three towers, a sign of great wealth.

He hadn’t expected that wealth, or the obvious difference in the way people lived. There were no white homes in Constant, nor were there homes painted in bright colors. Fey lived in the town, but in their own section. Here they mingled with Islanders. There were soldiers and merchants and ships and indoor shops, something he had never seen.

He started up the road. His horse was the only one not attached to a cart or a carriage. People who walked by looked at him as if he were committing some sort of crime. He passed them, feeling more conspicuous than he wanted.

The palace got larger the closer he came, and the towers seemed impossibly tall. A large wall surrounded the palace, and over it he could barely see other buildings that seemed to be part of a larger complex. Dozens of people and carts and Fey streamed in and out of the nearest gate.

His stomach cramped and he suddenly wished he had eaten more. His hands were clammy and he felt light-headed. He could turn around, say that he never got inside, and Coulter would be none the wiser.

But they were depending on him. Everyone was depending on him. And it was a job only he could do.

When he reached the gate, he tried to ride through, but the Fey guards on either side crossed their spears in front of him. He had to pull up his horse to prevent himself from being knocked off.

He sat as straight as he could. “I’m here to see the Queen,” he said. He almost said “the King” and ruined everything.

“She is not holding audiences this month,” one of the guards said. “You must wait until you hear the general announcement before coming to the palace.”

“You don’t understand,” Matt said. “It’s not about an audience. She’s been wanting an Enchanter. I’m an Enchanter. I want to see her.”

The guard who had spoken laughed. The other guard said, “She doesn’t need an Islander who thinks he has magick.”

Coulter had warned him that this might happen. Matt let go of the reins, and crossed his arms at the wrists. The position mimicked the spears. Slowly, he swung his arms at the elbows until his hands were parallel with his body, fingers pointed to the sky. The spears separated in exactly the same way, the guards struggling to control them and failing.

Matt didn’t move. The guards couldn’t bring the spears back down.

“I’d like to see the Queen,” he said. “Can you get someone to announce me?”

“It doesn’t work that way,” one of the guards said. His face was dark with strain. “She doesn’t do what you want. You must come when she’s ready to see you.”

“I think she’s probably ready now.” If he were going to ride through, he would only have a moment. Once his hands were behind the gate, the spears would fall into place. He hadn’t thought of that with his particular spell. “Ask her.”

The guards glanced at each other. Then one of them shouted something in Fey. Matt’s Fey was adequate, but he didn’t catch the words. A tall, slender Fey woman walked toward the gate. She was wearing a jerkin and breeches, her dark hair falling softly around her shoulders. Matt looked at her chin as Coulter had told him to do. She did not have a birthmark.

She stopped beside his horse. Her posture was relaxed. She grabbed the bridle and looked up at him. “You believe that you should see the Black Queen?”

“I’ve come because she wanted to interview Enchanters. I’m an Enchanter.” He felt ridiculous with his arms in the air, but he didn’t want the guards to regain control of their spears.

She looked at her guards. “You’re doing that?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I didn’t realize Islanders had such talent. Have you Fey blood?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Then why would you want to serve the Black Queen of the Fey?”

He flushed. If only Arianna could hear that, she would be so angry. So would Coulter. “I thought she’s also Queen of Blue Isle.”

The woman’s black eyes narrowed. “I guess she is.”

“I’d like to serve the Queen of Blue Isle,” he said. “I’ve always wanted to.”

He was pushing the edges; he could feel it. But the woman sighed. “Let them go and I’ll bring you inside.”

It was a risk. If he let the spears drop, she could move him into harm’s way. Or she could bar him from the palace altogether. Still, this was his first chance.

He brought his arms down. They tingled slightly. They had been starting to fall asleep.

Both guards staggered toward him, as if the movement of their spears unbalanced them. The spears tumbled to the ground. Laughter rose from behind the wall.

The woman kicked the spears aside and led Matt’s horse into the palace grounds. There were dogs everywhere, and a stable full of horses. Carriages were parked near the stone wall, and in the distance, Matt saw an entire unit of Fey practicing maneuvers, their swords glinting in the sunlight. He was out of his depth. He resisted the urge to pat his knapsack with the dolls inside.

The woman stopped just outside the nearest stable. A groom came out. He was Fey too, but not as tall as the woman. He had green eyes.

“It’s all right,” she said. “You can dismount. We’ll take good care of your horse.”

Matt hoped so. The horse had carried him a long way. He dismounted and grabbed his knapsack. She put her hand on his.

“You won’t need that. We’ll clean you up before you meet the Black Queen.”

Arianna had prepared him for this.
Refuse them politely
, she said,
and promise that someone can search the sack if they need to. You can make the dolls invisible if you must.

He had practiced that with Coulter over and over again. He hoped it would work with these people, while he was this nervous.

“I do need it,” Matt said. “Everything I own is in here. You can search it if you want. I don’t have any weapons.”