The Resistance: The Fourth Book of the Fey (Fey Series)

by Kristine Kathryn Rusch

  "He's na makin it up," Jakib said. "They burned Jahn."

  "N murdered most a the people in it," Denl said.

  Tri shook his head. "You know what the Wise Ones will do. They'll come up here and murder those people."

  "Yes," Matthias said. "I know."

  Tri tilted his head back. "You'll murder people you've never met?"

  "I've met Fey."

  "But not these Fey."

  "I don't know," Matthias said. "I have yet to meet a Fey who wasn't worth killing."

  "Beg pardon," Denl said, "but the Holy Sir is right. Them Fey is bloodthirsty, they is. They'll slice yer skin off soon as they'll talk to ye."

  "Or capture ye alive n let one of their ghouls steal yer soul n put it in a box," Jakib said. He shuddered so visibly that the flame on his torch shimmered.

  "You've all see this?" Tri asked.

  "Aye," Denl said. "They've taken over mosta the Isle. They've burned Jahn. How many times do we gotta tell ye, man? They're here ta slaughter us all."

  "You actually believe that," Tri said.

  "No," Matthias said softly. "We know it."

  He didn't like standing here. It made him feel exposed.

  He turned to Tri. "Do I have to give the order to someone else?"

  "I don't believe in killing," Tri said.

  "What about in war?" Matthias asked.

  "We're not at war," Tri said.

  "Maybe Constant isn't," Matthias said, "but Blue Isle is. It's just your remoteness that's protected you all this time."

  Tri took a shaky breath. Matthias didn't want to wait any longer.

  "Well?" he asked. "Will you do it? Or should I send Denl?"

  "They won't believe Denl," Tri said. "He travels with you."

  "Then that leaves you, doesn't it?" Matthias asked.

  Tri swallowed. "I guess it does."

  Matthias nodded once and continued up the path. It forked sharply, and he followed it. The torches were behind him, casting his shadow along the trails. He loomed, looking even taller in the darkness than he imagined he did in person.

  Or maybe the mountain was making him taller. He didn't actually know.

  He could almost see the presence now. It was standing. He could sense its alarm. It felt him too.

  Matthias jogged along the trail. Denl and Jakib tried to keep up with him, but the two men had shorter legs. They couldn't.

  He wasn't sure he wanted them too. He wanted to see this presence alone.

  The path was steep and his legs were aching with the strain. As he left the others behind, his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness. A third trail appeared, blending with the first two. It was fainter. Matthias blinked and looked up. What he had been calling an outcropping was instead a strange formation: several rock pillars topped by a flat stone ledge.

  The presence was inside those pillars.

  The trails Matthias was following littered the ground around the pillars. Then they continued on, upward toward the light that beckoned him.

  But still he stopped just outside the rock pillars, hands shaking, breath coming in short gasps.

  "I can feel you," he said. "There's no sense in hiding."

  Behind him, he could hear the other three on the path. He hoped Tri would follow his orders. Tri was independent. That had been to Matthias's benefit before. He wasn't sure it was now. Denl had come up behind Matthias, enough to create a circle of light around them.

  A man stepped into the light. He was blond, round-faced, and blue-eyed.

  And short.

  He was very short. As short as Tri. Matthias towered over him.

  The man was young, still a boy in his unlined face and his soft expression. Only those eyes made him a man. They held more sorrow than Matthias had ever seen.

  The presence came from this man/boy. And with it, a sense of power like Matthias had never felt before.

  "So you're the second one," the boy said.

  Whatever greeting Matthias had expected, it wasn't this. "Second one?"

  "I've felt you all my life," the boy said. "I thought you were Fey."

  This, after the taunts in the town below, after all the reminders of the hatred around him.

  "I'm not Fey," Matthias snapped.

  "No," the boy said. "You're not. You're like me."

  Jakib had joined them. His light mingled with Denl's. "Tis ana one else inside?" he asked.

  "No," the boy and Matthias said in unison. Matthias clenched a fist. He had a sudden sense that his desire to see the boy alone had been the right one.

  "Go back to Tri," Matthias said, taking the torch from Denl. "Wait for me."

  "But Ho—

  "Do it," Matthias said, before Denl could use the honorific.

  "Aye," Denl said.

  Jakib glanced at him. "We promised Marly we'd look after ye."

  "And you will," Matthias said. "Out of earshot."

  "Ye know this lad?" Denl asked.

  "I've been aware of him for a long time," Matthias said, and as he spoke the words he knew it was true. He had been aware of this boy every day of the boy's life, more than he had admitted to himself before. It was a natural feeling, like the feel of ground beneath him. One day the boy appeared, and Matthias felt him, like someone had just walked into a room.

  "I dunna like this," Jakib said.

  "You don't have to," Matthias said.

  "She loves ye, ye know. If ye dunna come back — "

  "I'll be back," he said, warming in spite of himself at Jakib's words. How could Marly love him? She had seen him only as an injured man, as one who needed help out of the tunnels, who, in the first days she knew him, could barely walk on his own.

  "I won't hurt him," the boy said, and it felt as if he'd left off part of the sentence. I won't hurt him — yet. I won't hurt him — ever. I won't hurt him — because he's like me.

  "If ye do, know we'll find ye," Jakib said. "We'll do the same to ye as ye do to him."

  The boy nodded gravely, as if the threat meant something to him. But Matthias could feel the emotions running below the boy's surface. The boy did not believe they could harm him. And he certainly did not believe they could harm him as he could harm Matthias.

  The cold surrounding Matthias grew stronger. He almost told the others not to leave. But he didn't. The boy had said too many things already — too many things that Matthias wasn't sure he wanted others to hear.

  "It's all right," Matthias said. "Go."

  Denl was still looking at the boy. "Ye realize this man holds the Secrets a — "

  "Go," Matthias said. He knew what Denl was going to say. He was going to say that Matthias knew the Secrets of Rocaanism. That he knew how to kill Fey. But Matthias wasn't sure he wanted the boy to know that.

  "Aye," Denl said. "But if ye die, we all do."

  Matthias doubted that. He had seen the resiliency of his own people. But he did know that he was important to them, and to their survival against the Fey.

  He had a feeling that this boy would help in that.

  "I'll be all right," Matthias said.

  Denl made a face, thrust the torch at him, and Matthias shook his head. He didn't want his hands full of anything. Denl waited a moment, then wedged the torch between two rocks. Then he headed back down the path.

  "They protect you," the boy said, as if he found that unusual.

  Matthias wasn't going to address it. He took a step closer to the boy, marveling still at how much taller he was. He could see the top of the boy's head, just as he could with other Islanders. Only this felt different.

  "What do you mean we're alike?" he asked.

  "You don't have to hide with me," the boy said. "Can't you feel it? I've known about you my whole life. I'll bet you've known about me."

  "And the third," Matthias said softly.

  "Yes," the boy said. "The third, who arrived with the Fey in this last invasion. But you're not Fey."

  "No," Matthias said.

  "And neither am I. Yet we have magick.
"

  "I have no magick," Matthias snapped.

  The boy smiled. His face was oddly pale in the torch light. "Of course you do," the boy said. "Otherwise I wouldn't be able to feel you."

  You have a great magick, holy man.

  Matthias had broken out of a Dream Rider's spell years ago, when the Fey said only the magick among them could do so. He had deflected a spell from another Fey, and killed him. He had woven a rope of blood and climbed out of the bottom of the Cardidas River.

  "I have no magick," Matthias whispered.

  "Sure you do," the boy said. "It's just not trained. Here. Try this."

  He opened his hand and a fireball appeared in it. Then, as quickly as it appeared, it disappeared.

  "I can't do that," Matthias said.

  "You haven't tried."

  "I can't," Matthias said.

  The boy's smile widened. "Sure you can. Imagine it. Then feel it against your palm. We can create what we can imagine, you and I. Most people can't do that."

  He remembered picking up the vials of holy water during the first Fey invasion. Then flinging them at the Fey, hoping the bottles would stop them.

  And they did.

  They did.

  But he hadn't imagined that kind of carnage.

  Had he?

  "Try it," the boy said.

  Matthias held out his hand, palm up. He had to try this. If he didn't, he would wonder for the rest of his life. He imagined a fireball, like the one that boy had created in his hand, and then felt it against his skin. He looked down.

  The ball was burning, a perfect circle of flame, red and orange and blue in the center, although cool to his touch.

  He shouted and shook it away from his hand.

  It fell toward the ground.

  The boy snapped his fingers and the fireball flew to him. He crushed it between his palms, and the fire disappeared in a puff of smoke.

  Matthias could still see the light from the flame etched against the darkness.

  "When you create them," the boy said with caution in his voice. "They're real. You have to be careful of them."

  "I didn't do that. You did that," Matthias said. "I can't do that."

  The boy studied him a moment. "Is that how you survived all this time without believing in your own skills? Did you do that by denying your powers? Blaming someone else?"

  "You did it," Matthias said, backing away.

  "Then try something else," the boy said. "Something you didn't tell me about. Imagine that, and see what happens."

  "No." Matthias nearly tripped on the rocks holding the torch. He gripped them for security. The torch shook, making the light waver. "What are you?"

  "The Fey call me an Enchanter. I don't know what the Islander word for me is. I suspect it's lost."

  "The Fey made you into this?"

  "No." The boy sounded sad. "They wanted to believe that too, but they did tests. I have their magick ability and I was born before the first invasion. I'm real Islander. Just like you."

  "You must be a Fey. Sometimes they can look like Islanders." Matthias remembered when one invaded the Tabernacle.

  "Test me," the boy said.

  "Holy water doesn't work any more." Matthias stood carefully. "You're Fey and you're trying to play with my mind."

  "No," the boy said. "I'm Coulter. I'm an Islander just like you are. At some point you're going to have to believe in what you can do."

  You have a great magick, holy man.

  "Why are you telling me this?" Matthias asked.

  "Because I've never met anyone else like me who wasn't Fey," Coulter said. "If we work together, think about what we can do. We have as much power as their most powerful people. If we use it — "

  "Who are you traveling with?" Matthias asked. "Who do these lines belong o?"

  To his surprise, young Coulter looked directly at the trails that Matthias had been following. "Two of my friends," Coulter said.

  "How come I can see their lines and not the lines from my friends?" Matthias asked.

  "You could see those if you wanted. But you have no need to. If we let ourselves see all the trails from everyone who has walked on this ground, we would go blind. So we isolate." The boy took a step closer. "Maybe you should look for your friends' trails."

  Matthias shook his head. "And have you make them appear?"

  "You can't blame me for all this," the boy said. "Imagine what you could do if you harness that power instead of deny it."

  Matthias was shaking. "Your friends are tall. They went into Constant today and were driven out. Are your friends Fey?"

  The boy swallowed. "Two of them are."

  "You travel with Fey?"

  "They're not what you think," the boy said. "They are running from the Black King like everyone else. He'll kill them if he finds them."

  Matthias crossed his arms. "So will I, if I find them."

  "You can't," the boy said. "They have nothing to do with this invasion. They're trying to stop the Black King."

  "And I have only your word for it," Matthias said. "The word of a magick boy who may or may not be Fey himself."

  "I'm not Fey," they boy said. "I told you. My name is Coulter. I am just like you."

  "No, you're not,"

  Matthias said. "I would never travel with Fey. Fey are evil creatures, abominations."

  "Because they're magick?" the boy asked.

  Matthias felt a shudder run through him.

  "You deny your magick. Is that because it makes you too much like them? Does that make you an abomination?"

  Demon-spawn.

  "Does that make you evil?"

  "I have no magick," Matthias said.

  "But you do," the boy said.

  "Why is it you Fey are so determined to make me one of you?" Matthias felt the killing rage rise up in him. He hadn't felt it since that night on the Jahn bridge, the night he almost died. "I am not one of you."

  "And I am not Fey," the boy said.

  "You lie!" Matthias screamed. He reached to the rocks behind him, grabbed the torch and flung it at the boy. The boy reached out with one hand and stopped the torch in midair.

  "You try to kill me because I tell you the truth?" the boy asked. "You hate yourself that much?"

  "I don't hate myself," Matthias said.

  "You deny what you are. And when confronted with it, you get so angry, the mountain shakes. If you relax and believe me, you'll be much happier. We'll work together — "

  "You don't look happy," Matthias snapped. "If you're so happy, why are you here on this mountainside alone? Did your friends abandon you up here?"

  "No," the boy said. "But sometimes, with great power — " His voice broke.

  "Comes great responsibility. I know," Matthias said. "Believe me, I know."

  And he always felt he used that responsibility poorly as Rocaan. He had never asked for the position. He had been wrong for it. He lacked the faith. He could simply not believe in things Seen and Unseen, any more than he could believe in Islander magick.

  "What do you want from me?" he asked softly. He felt as if he'd been asking that question his whole life. "Why did you lure me up here?"

  "I didn't lure you," the boy said. "You came, following my friends."

  "Where are they?"

  The boy's smile was sad now. "I should tell you? After you just said you'd kill them?"

  The torch hung between them, floating in the open air. Matthias stared at it for a moment, resisting the urge to see if it would fly back into his own hand. "Tell them to leave here," he said. He may as well do what Tri had intended all along. "Tell them they won't get another warning."

  Then he turned, with military precision, and walked back down the path, toward Denl, Jakib, and Tri. People who knew who he was.

  People whose presences he couldn't feel.

  THIRTY-FIVE

  Adrian crouched behind a pile of rocks. He felt exposed, even though the darkness on the mountain was complete. He felt as if he were being w
atched.

  The three men had come down from the hiding place, and they had come alone. Coulter, Gift, Leen, and Scavenger weren't with them. And neither was the fourth man. The tall one who appeared to be their leader.

  Adrian hadn't been able to get a good glimpse of him in the dark. His companions were clearly Islanders, but the leader was tall enough to be Fey. His face was bandaged, a good disguise for Fey features.

  A very good disguise.

  But the man hadn't acted Fey. He had barked out orders to his men in Islander as they trudged up the mountain, and he appeared to be following a trail.

  Was he one of the tall ones that the villagers were so terrified of? Was that something different yet from Fey, from Islanders? Was there a third kind of being on this Isle, one Adrian had never heard of?

  He was almost ready to believe anything in this deep darkness.

  He braced himself against the rock before him. His hands were sore, and his back still ached, but these were minor inconveniences now. He had hoped for water and food, but he had known that would be an impossibility the moment he had seen those four men head up the mountain.

  He had almost run into them.

  He had been conducting his own ruse, pretending he was going elsewhere as he left the rock quarry, going down the mountain so that the quarry's owners didn't think Adrian was going to warn his friends.

  Gift and Leen.

  It seemed as if the entire town were after Gift and Leen. This fear of tall people seemed almost pathological to Adrian, and that made it all the more frightening. If he didn't understand it, he didn't know how to fight it.

  And even worse, he didn't know how to warn them about it.

  He shouldn't have listened to Scavenger. He shouldn't have allowed them to come to this place, so far from things he knew. He should have trusted his own instincts. In all his years on Blue Isle, he had heard nothing good about the Cliffs of Blood. In fact, the people who had left there refused to speak of it, shaking their heads and changing the subject each time it was brought up.

  And now he was beginning to understand why.

  The three men were crouched at the edge of the trail. They now had one torch between them. They must have left the other one with the leader, near the top.

  The leader, who had to be with Coulter.