The Black King (Book 7) (62 page)

She knew that. The magick in this cave was Islander magick, and hers was—had been—Fey. The magick in here could kill her.

That had been the risk from the beginning.

“I’m half Islander,” she said with more conviction than she felt. “This should work.”

Coulter took a deep breath. “I’ll be willing to help you. I’ll be at your side from now on. I’ll help you with all you need to do in Jahn so that you can continue your rule—”

“No,” she said.

He stared at her. She could see the hurt behind his eyes. What she wanted to tell him was that taking the least risky way was usually his method, not hers. She didn’t want to depend on his magick. Even though her Vision remained, everything else was gone. She didn’t want to live that way unless she had no other choice.

Here, she had a choice.

The Words, at least according to Matt, said that anyone who drank from the fountain became like God. Gift said that the Place of Power in the Eccrasian Mountains also had a spring running through it. Fey history said that the Fey had no magick until they went into the Place of Power.

It might have been as simple as taking a drink.

It might have been more complicated than that.

She was going to find out.

Coulter’s grip around her tightened. “Holy water kills Fey,” he said. “If you swallow this—”

“I know the risk,” she said.

“But Arianna, is this risk worth your life?”

She frowned. She could live in a broken body, repair it bit by bit, and perhaps never get it all back. She would still have her abilities to think, and she would have the feeling of sunlight against her skin, the smell of roses in the summer, the sound of birds in the garden at night. But she wouldn’t have all of herself.

“I don’t look at it that way,” she said. “I need to try everything I can to return to myself. I owe it to myself.”

“Ari—”

She leaned her head against his shoulder. He stopped. They had had this discussion ever since he had said something about the fountain. She had latched onto the idea, and he had tried to talk her out of it. He couldn’t know the greatest attraction, though. He couldn’t know because she couldn’t explain it.

Rugad had invaded her mind. He had taken her body for his own and used it in his own way. He had woven bits of himself throughout her, and when he had finally been destroyed, those parts of her were destroyed as well.

As strong as she was, as confident as she was, she wasn’t sure she would be able to rebuild those parts of herself alone.

The magick of her mother’s people couldn’t help her. So she was turning to the magick of her father’s people before she completely gave up hope.

Arianna listened to the water gurgle. “Carry me down there.”

He picked her up and cradled her against his chest, holding her tightly, as if he might never hold her again. She could feel his heart beating against her arm. Such a soothing feeling.

He didn’t make another protest, and for that, she was grateful. He carried her carefully down the steps. They went on for a long way and sank into a large bowl. The blood-red color had dripped down the stairs unevenly, so the edges of some of the stairs were still white. Some of the color had trailed to the floor below, but not all of it. The floor at the base of the stairs looked like someone had spilled wine on it and not yet cleaned it up.

There was a white table in the center, and corridors trailing off to the sides. Between the corridors was the fountain.

Coulter stopped beside it, still cradling Arianna.

She had never been this close to it. Her father hadn’t wanted her close, afraid that the water that spilled from it might harm her. She could feel the spray now and she braced herself—half worried that it would melt her like holy water did to the Fey.

But no one knew if holy water harmed Fey who were non-magickal—and at the moment, she was non-magickal. At least, her body was. The light had already drained the magick from her.

The fountain’s pedestal had been carved out of the rock that formed the floor. The bowl had been added later. Water flowed from a crack in the wall, into the basin, and down through the pedestal. Beside the crack were carvings that made no sense to Arianna.

Coulter frowned at them. “We should have brought Matt. He might know what they mean.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Arianna said. “I’m not changing my mind.”

Coulter sighed. They had already discussed how they were going to do this. He was to hold her so that she could drink from the fountain and then he was to set her down.

He leaned forward, low enough that she could put her face in the water.

It was cold and fresh, the best she had ever tasted. It slipped into the pores of her skin, chilling them. She drank and drank and drank, unable to get her fill. She had never had water that tasted so good.

Coulter tried to pull her away, but somehow she prevented him. She drank even more, letting the water cover her face, feeling guilty for all that she was taking, but not guilty enough to stop.

The water filled her and spread, and she continued to drink. Somewhere along the way, she realized she wasn’t breathing or blinking or moving.

Coulter finally lifted her out and set her on the floor, and she struggled to get back for more water. Instead, the water within her turned and moved and grabbed her, as if she were part of it, and she felt herself slip into a new state, one she had never been in before.

“Arianna?” Coulter asked.

But she didn’t answer him. She couldn’t answer him. Her body was still hers, but it wasn’t moving. It wouldn’t move, even if she wanted it to.

Again?
A female voice asked.

Arianna’s eyelids were closed, but she could see the inside of the cave. She saw Coulter’s concerned face. She saw him step back as he had promised and sit on the step, looking as if he had made the biggest mistake of his life. But she couldn’t see the source of the voice.

Another with the Roca’s blood, trying to take what she already has.
This time the speaker was male.

No,
Arianna said. Only the words weren’t coming out of her mouth. They were coming out of her as if she were inside of a Link.
I’ve come to you for help.

Help? You want more magic?
the female voice asked.
How greedy are these creatures?

My magick has been destroyed,
Arianna said.
Please, look. The inside of me has been injured by a dark magick. I need help repairing it.

Then she saw figures, ghostly figures, floating above her. They were Islanders, pale and round and small. They crowded over her.

Coulter sat up straighter, as if he sensed them.

They touched her with their fingers, gentle upon her forehead. She felt something probe into her mind, saw a male face that looked so much like her father’s that she almost cried to him. But that face was not her father’s. It was older and had different lines, lines that were not formed by laughter, like her father’s had been. The man touched the black gooey ropes and said,
You have been touched by the Lights of Midday, yet you live
.

She nodded. Then she showed him what happened to her, from the baby, through the takeover, and her return. He recoiled as if he felt the pain of it.

Different magick. How strange this is.

Yes,
she said.
Please. Can you help me?

He beckoned and most of the presences outside her were suddenly inside, touching the damage, grimacing at it, wiping their hands on their ghostly selves as if they had been soiled.

Then, one by one, they left.

Please,
Arianna said.
You’re my last hope!

Coulter was wringing his hands and staring at her. She could sense his self-control.

We can repair your physical functions,
the man said.
But we cannot give you back the magick you had. We do not know that magick.

It evolved from a different source,
a female voice said.

You are a mixture of two powers. You are unique. We cannot preserve that uniqueness.
That was a third voice.

But we can give you the fullest extent of the power that your family should have,
said a female voice.

It will not benefit you,
said a male voice.
That is the price.

All magick has a price.

It is a horrible price.

But your children will have a softer version, and their children will be blessed,
the man said.
Especially if you unite with the one who brought you here.

Coulter?
Arianna asked.

He comes from a line once we thought would strengthen yours. But there has been no contact between these lines in all of Blue Isle’s history. Unite with him, and we will help you.

Arianna looked at him. He seemed so frightened sitting there. Coulter was always frightened, but he always came through for her. And she loved him, more than she wanted to admit.

I will unite with him,
she said.

Good,
the female voice said.
Then your children will be strong, and your children’s children will be blessed.

You will be the best of all the Isle,
the man said.

You must remain its Queen,
said another voice.

Blue Isle’s Queen?
Arianna asked.

But you cannot divide your loyalties any longer. You shall look like your mother’s people, but you shall no longer be of them. Do you understand?
The man asked.

I’m not going to be Fey any more?
Arianna asked.

Not inside. Our magick cannot repair what was done to you. You will not have the powers you had. Except that which has always been part of you.

My Vision,
she said.

It is the only thing that is exactly the same,
said the man.

But Coulter’s an Enchanter. Isn’t that the same?
Arianna asked.

You were not gifted with his powers. We are not discussing that,
the man said.

You must decide,
the woman said.
We give you a moment to consider.

Arianna felt a pang of sadness. She would never be able to Shift again. Because of what Rugad had done, she would always be a different woman. She couldn’t change that. But she could take something from this place. Lose the pain, lose the destruction.

At a price.

Her
price. Not the one Rugad had charged her, but one she chose. And the things these presences were asking of her were things she had planned to do anyway.

All right,
she said.

The presences swarmed around her, touching her, caressing her. The water moved inside of her and became part of her. She could feel it absorbing into her skin, her bones, her womb. The water became part of her.

And then the presences were gone.

Her eyes were closed, and she couldn’t see through her lids any longer.

She sat up. Coulter was beside her. She touched her forehead where the presences had touched her.

“You’re moving,” he said. “They healed you?”

“In their own way.” She put a hand on his cheek, and then pressed her face against his. It would be no sacrifice to marry him or have children with him. She had always wanted that.

But she had to accept the sadness within her. She had to acknowledge the loss. Before she did, she had one more thing to do. One more thing to give up.

She stood slowly, and started up the stairs in search of Gift.

SEVENTY-FIVE

GIFT SAT on the stone platform leading into the Roca’s Cave. He leaned against one of the giant swords. Skya sat beside him. He had his arm around her and was holding her close. His other arm was bandaged and in a sling. The Healers had instructed him not to use it. The damage had been serious and they were worried that any use would ruin the work they had done to repair it.

Dash, Leen, Matt, Scavenger and, surprisingly, Sebastian, all sat at the edge of the platform overlooking the valley. Leen had helped Sebastian climb to the top when he had said he wanted to be with his sister. It had taken most of the morning, but he had made it up here. He had peered inside the cave, but had decided not to go in.

The decision had relieved Gift. He felt that Sebastian wouldn’t be safe inside, although he didn’t know why.

Lyndred had stayed in Jahn with her father. Bridge was exhausted from his injuries and the effort he had put out to defeat Rugad. Lyndred felt she had needed time alone. Con had stayed with her. She had asked him to show her his plans for the Tabernacle, and he was happy to oblige. Arianna’s return to power meant Con’s dream of reviving the religion—one that would be open to Fey and Islanders—could occur.

After Gift had left the
Tashka
, he had told Xihu exactly what happened. Xihu finally understood what the changes she had seen in Arianna were. She had brought in Domestics to “clear” the palace of all residue, and she was helping Luke find the Islanders who had worked at the palace so that they could return to their positions. By the time Arianna got back, a lot of the damage Rugad had done to her home would be repaired.

Gift glanced inside the cave. He heard nothing. He hated this idea, but nothing could dissuade Arianna from it. She was so damaged herself. He wondered if they had let the Lights of Midday ravage her for too long. He had mentioned that to Xihu, but Xihu had said that if they had done it for too short a time, Rugad would not be gone.

Xihu had been intrigued by the fact that the destruction of Rugad had not caused the Blood. She saw it as a sign that the Blood was tied to the physical being, not the essence.

Gift wasn’t so sure. Coulter, after all, was the one who held the globe, and even though Gift was directing the heartstone, he didn’t touch the weapon. That too could have been the difference.