The Black King (Book 7) (47 page)

FORTY-ONE

LYNDRED STOOD ON DECK with her back to those disturbing mountains. Ever since the ship had come close to this part of the river, she had been drawn to the mountains. Now that they had anchored not far from the place Coulter called the Roca’s Cave, the drive to go to there had been even stronger.

This was as close as she had ever been to a Place of Power, and she found its effect disturbing. The fact that Coulter said everyone with Vision and strong magick had similar feelings didn’t help her at all. So she looked at the city of Constant instead.

Constant looked like a dreary place. Even though the sun had risen above the mountain peaks, sunlight still hadn’t touched the valley floor. The stone houses were shrouded in shadow.

She had no idea how anyone could live here, let alone love the place. It looked dank and gloomy and wretchedly poor to her.

Or maybe it was just her mood.

She had awakened to find that her father, Gift, Dash, and Ace had taken Matt off the ship. Gift had forbidden Coulter and Arianna to go. Coulter was angry about it although he claimed to understand. Lyndred didn’t. Gift trusted her father enough to take him on this mission, but there was no reason to leave Lyndred behind. She was a full Visionary, more talented than her father, and she was stronger. Her father hadn’t used his warrior’s muscles in years. She would have been a good asset, but Gift hadn’t even thought of waking her.

Soft footsteps echoed behind her, but she didn’t move. She didn’t want to talk to anyone.

“Lyndred?”

Her heart leaped and her hands dug deeper into the rail. She had to will herself not to turn around. Con was behind her. “I’m waiting for my father,” she said in her coldest tone.

“I’m sorry to interrupt.” He leaned against the rail so that he could see her face. Which meant that she had to look at his, the face from her Vision.

“I just wanted to know what I have done to offend you,” Con said. “I’d like to make it up to you if I could.”

He spoke Fey gently, and it was not a gentle language. His accent negated the harsher syllables, making the words pretty.

She didn’t know how to talk to him. “You didn’t do anything.”

“Then perhaps we can start again. I’ve enjoyed a good friendship with your cousins. I’d like to get to know you better.”

“You’re one of the religious Islanders, aren’t you?”

“I was a second son, given to the Tabernacle when I was a child. I became an Aud. But Rugad came, burned the Tabernacle, and nearly destroyed the religion.” His smile was sad. “There really hasn’t been a place for me since.”

Her heart turned. She understood that kind of sadness, although she wasn’t sure why. “I heard that you religious Islanders are dangerous.”

“If I were dangerous, would Gift and Arianna have brought me with them?” He had her, but she said nothing. “What is it, Lyndred? You can’t really hide from me on a ship this size.”

The water glistened below them. Here the Cardidas was the color of fresh blood. Was this what she had Seen that day? Or had she really Seen blood on the water?

“I’ve Seen you in my Visions,” she said. “You broke my heart.”

“
I
did?” He sounded shocked.

“You give me a child I don’t want,” she whispered. “So please, stay away from me.”

“A child?” He looked startled as if the possibility of children had never occurred to him. “Our child?”

She didn’t have a direct answer for him. The Vision had been clear that the child was hers. Whether or not he fathered it wasn’t clear, only that he would “give” the child to her.

He looked beyond her, as if he were staring at the Place of Power. “I’ve seen too much magick to deny this. I understand the truth of Visions. I also know that they can be changed.”

She leaned on her elbows.

“You and I,” Con said, “we’re so different that I can’t imagine—”

“You find me attractive, don’t you?” she said in a flat voice. “That’s why you’re worried that I won’t speak to you.”

He glanced at her quickly, then looked away. “I find you intriguing. Not anything like your cousins.”

He wasn’t hiding his feelings from her. If anything, his attempt at a denial made his interest in her clear.

“Well,” she said in that same flat voice. “I find you attractive too. It terrifies me. I thought Vision was something that allowed a Visionary to avoid what’s going to happen.”

“You think we’re fated.”

“I hope not.” She pushed away from the rail. “To me, it feels like you’ve already broken my heart and I’ve only known you for two days. This is the first time I’ve really spoken to you. I’m sure the pain I feel from the Vision is only an echo of the pain I will feel. I’d like to avoid that.”

He nodded. “I feel like I should apologize for something I haven’t done yet.”

He was a gentle soul. That made things even harder. “I wish it were that easy,” she said, and walked away.

FORTY-TWO

SOMEHOW GIFT EXPECTED MATTHIAS, the man who had murdered his mother, to live in a great home. Gift was surprised when Dash led him to a stone cottage that was the same as the other cottages around it. Only this one had the feeling of neglect.

The bushes out front hadn’t been trimmed in years. Flowering plants still had the dead brown remains of last summer’s blooms. The wooden door was shredded with time and weather.

Standing on the threshold, Dash behind him and Bridge on the steps, Gift felt ashamed of how he had initially thought of Matt. Gift had assumed he would be as bad as his father. Matt had been shuttled to Coulter because his parents hadn’t known how to deal with him.

Gift knocked on the scarred wooden door. He waited, listening, hoping to hear some movement inside. There was nothing. He knocked again, and this time, he heard the scrape of a chair move, and a female voice say in Islander, “Twill be just a moment.”

He recognized the accent from the Kenniland Marshes, so he was surprised when the door opened and he saw a statuesque red-headed woman with care lines that ran down her face. Red hair was common here. And she was tall, like Matthias had been.

Before Gift could say anything, she gasped, then bowed. “Highness.”

He was surprised she recognized him. She hadn’t looked that aware of anything. The air from inside was stale, her clothing needed washing, and her hair fell in stringy waves down her back.

“Stand,” he said.

She did and moved out of his way to let him in. Dash followed and so did Bridge. She said nothing.

The front room was clean, but the furniture was meager. The kitchen was spotless, with a single loaf of bread resting in the middle of the table. The bedroom down the narrow hallway had an unmade bed and clothing scattered along the floor.

She stood behind a wooden highback chair and stared at him as if he were a figment of her imagination. Her face was puffy. It was clear she had once been a great beauty, but the beauty had been destroyed by a grief so deep it had etched itself on her face.

“I understand that you’re a healer.” He lowered his voice, made it gentle. He hadn’t planned to do that. He had planned to browbeat the woman until she came to her son. But now, he saw that she was broken too. Just in a different way.

“Na like Fey Healers.” Her eyes were wide, wary. She didn’t know what he wanted and she seemed frightened by that.

“What do you do?”

“I make potions. Salves. Ta help with simpler wounds.”

“I understand you did a lot during the attack on Constant.”

“Twas different. We dinna see injuries like that ana more.”

“But you found a way to treat them?”

Understanding filled her face. “Some. The ones like burns.”

The loss of skin was something like a burn. He lowered his voice even farther. “Do you have a son named Matt?”

She glanced at the kitchen, then at him, as if Matt had something to do with that room. “I do. What’s he done?”

There was censure in the words. Poor Matt. No wonder he had sacrificed so much. He was desperate for affection.

“Matt nearly died defending my sister and me,” Gift said.

She put a hand to her mouth as if she could take back the words, and then closed her eyes.

“The Fey Healers say that we need your help to make him well. Matt doesn’t want you to come. I think he doesn’t want to risk that you
won’t
come.”

Her eyes flew open. They were filled with tears. “I’ll come.”

She went into the kitchen, picking up a basket along the way. In the kitchen, she started filling the basket with bottles and herbs. Her fingers moved quickly as if part of her had started to panic.

Gift said, “I also need to ask you how to get into the Vault.”

She froze. “Tis na wise for ye ta do that, Highness.”

“It’s important,” Gift said.

“Me son, Alex, he dinna like Fey. He is na gonna take kindly—” She shook her head as if she didn’t know exactly what to do.

“I’m not just any Fey, ma’am. You know that.”

“I do. But Alex, he be his da’s son. Tis dangerous for ye.”

“Does he have the same powers as Matt?”

She shook her head. “He sees things.”

“He has Vision?”

“He dinna like ta talk about it.” She grabbed more supplies. “Where’s Matty?”

“The school,” Gift said. “I understand you have reservations about going there, but I don’t think taking him from there—”

“No. I been ta the school afore. Twas me husband that dinna like it.” She laid a cloth over the basket then turned. “Ye won’t be going with me, then.”

“No,” Gift said. “I have to go to the Vault.”

She put her hand on the door. “Ye must think me a disgrace. Mayhap I am.”

She looked at Gift sideways and in that subtle gesture, he saw Matt. He had thought Matt favored his father, but apparently he took after both parents.

“I lost meself when Matthias died. Alex, he took care a me like I done Matthias. And Matty, he got lost in it all. Alex and him split about the school, about magick, about the Fey. I dinna have the strength ta fight it.” She straightened. “I do love me son. I jus thought, when he went ta Coulter, he went somewhere safe.”

Then she let herself out, leaving Gift to contemplate her rebuke in silence.

FORTY-THREE

ARIANNA WANTED A FLEET of ships and a squadron of troops, so Dipalmet was down by the docks, investigating the ships that had not been converted to trade ships. Most of the military vessels had, and if they were still sea-worthy, most of them were on the Infrin, getting supplies from Galinas or Etanien or some other exotic place. Even Bridge’s ships were gone on a trade mission with Nye.

The ships DiPalmet had left were mostly rotted sculls from Islander voyages and two from Rugad’s invasion force. Those were bad shape as well, untouched mostly because of their military configuration. Having such a ship approach Nye would make some worry that an attack was beginning again.

DiPalmet sat on the edge of the dock and tucked his legs against his chest. The Cardidas flowed beneath the dock like wet rust, and the sun, even though it was out, cast no heat. He was damp and cold and unwilling to go back to the palace.

There would be no fleet. There were a few ships at best.

And then there was the problem of the troops.

He had enough trained Infantry to form the basis of a solid fighting force. And there were some Beast Riders, a few Bird Riders, and some Foot Soldiers. But certainly not enough to make the kind of force that could lay waste to an entire region.

He had checked and double-checked his figures. He had sent notices to outlying areas, asking for more troops—although that would do no good. The notices went out the day before, and no one would be able to get to Jahn on time, except maybe a few Bird Riders.

It would be his thankless task to tell Arianna that if she wanted troops, she might have to add an Islander force to the mix. After all, until her change of heart six months ago, she did have a fairly strong Islander fighting force.

DiPalmet might even know where to find the man who had served as her captain of the guard. A man named Luke. He now had a farm just south of Jahn. DiPalmet wondered if Luke would help Arianna. She had demanded Luke leave the palace shortly after her illness. He had seemed relieved to go.

But he was a good military man and a good tactician. DiPalmet had seen Luke’s plans for an Island defense when Arianna had asked for one, years ago, and it had been sound.

The question was would an Islander be willing to torch part of his homeland in retaliation for an attack on the palace? DiPalmet didn’t know. But he felt as if getting help from outside would be the only way to carry out Arianna’s plans.

FORTY-FOUR

EVEN THOUGH MATT’S MOTHER had not told Gift where the Vault was, he had little trouble finding it. Dash knew that the access to the Vault was in the Meeting Hall, and where the Meeting Hall was. After a stop at the boat for the bags, they went to the Hall.

It was in better shape than Matt’s home. The Hall was clean, with new furniture. Someone had left a lamp and flint near the door. Gift lit that, then went through the open door to the tunnel.

The stairs were wood and smelled new. When the three men reached the tunnels, Gift shuddered. The tunnels reminded him of the ones under Jahn. They had the same feel: the damp stone, the rotted wood, the dripping water.

Gift had to be calm and aware. He was taking a large risk. He didn’t even know how many Lights of Midday were here. If there were only a few, then he would be doing all this for nothing.