The Black King (Book 7)

by Kristine Kathryn Rusch

  “Maybe he’s not well liked on the Isle.”

  “Maybe. But we found a Doppelgänger living among the Islanders. He said that he was to report back to the palace.”

  Like the Hawk Rider. So Arianna was trying to kill her brother. She was going to allow the Islanders to do it, and when they succeeded, she wanted one of her people to report.

  “Are you sure that’s all the Doppelgänger was doing?” Lyndred asked. “Wasn’t he supposed to influence the Islanders so that they would attack Gift?”

  That wounded look crossed Ace’s face again, but he hid it quickly. He didn’t suspect Arianna of attacking her brother.

  He suspected Lyndred.

  “He said,” Ace spoke carefully, his tone dull and flat, “that he was supposed to report back. He denied taking any action. He said the Islanders were already going to attack when he joined them.”

  “Hmm.” She walked to the window, bent down, and looked into the garden. It was still empty. Fortunately there were no gardeners tending things as there had been all summer. She reached for the edges of the windows and pulled them closed. Then she pulled down the tapestry that blocked the light. The room wasn’t quite dark. Still it took a moment for her eyes to adjust so that she could still see Ace’s face.

  “Why did you do that?” he asked.

  She had trusted him once. “I want to meet my cousin Gift, and I don’t want Arianna to know.”

  “Why not?”

  Two different answers crossed her mind. In the first, she imagined herself telling him everything. But he was a lowly Gull Rider who never learned anything about leadership. He wouldn’t be a good confidant, even if he did have insights. In the second, she thought of blackmailing him, promising to tell all if he made love to her. But she wasn’t that desperate.

  “You don’t have a need to know,” she said. “You’re just the messenger.”

  He remained motionless for a moment. Then he looked down, nodded once, and gathered the blanket tighter around him.

  “I’m sorry for the way I acted a moment ago,” he said softly. “I wasn’t lying when I said I missed you.”

  “I’m not going to give you any information, Ace. No matter how sweetly you talk to me.” No matter how much she wanted to.

  He stood, looking awkward in that blanket. “I’m supposed to find out how Arianna is. I’m supposed to see if I can catch a glimpse of her.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Gift wants to be careful. Someone tried to kill him.”

  Very smart. She would do the same under similar circumstances. “Tell him his sister is fine.”

  Ace shook his head. “I can’t. I have to see her for myself.”

  “Why?”

  “Gift has some questions and I want to be able to answer them honestly.” Ace was still using that flat cautious tone.

  “I’ll answer them,” Lyndred said.

  “No. I have to do it myself.”

  Even the small trust they had had was gone. Unless Lyndred had been making it up out of her own neediness.

  “Then you’ll die,” Lyndred said.

  “I can be discrete.”

  Lyndred smiled. It was a reflex; she knew the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m sure you can. But you don’t know our Black Queen. She’ll find you, break your bones into fine twigs, and then find out everything you know and things you didn’t know you knew. Is that what you want to do for your friend Gift?”

  Ace’s dark eyes studied her. His face remained completely still. It was a bird-like expression, measuring, cautious, and completely without emotion.

  “I thought,” he said, “that Arianna was our compassionate Queen. Lover of peace and things humane.”

  “I thought the same,” Lyndred said. “And then I met her. She’s none of those things.”

  “But we’ve been at peace for years.”

  “She calls it a rest between wars.”

  Only Ace’s eyes moved. “How do you know she’d kill me?”

  “If you think I’m lying to you, test me. Risk your life.” Lyndred crossed her arms and lowered her voice. “Or do you think I’m the ruthless one? Do you think that I’m trying to wrest the Throne from my cousins?”

  “No.” But his dark gaze slid away from hers. He was lying.

  “You still want to see her yourself?”

  “I have to.”

  “Then the best way to do it is to come through the front gates, by foot, and say that you must report to my father. Everyone will testify that you were on the ship, and Arianna already knows about the other Gull Rider. You’ll get to meet Arianna. But I won’t be able to guarantee that you can rejoin Gift.”

  Ace ran a hand through his feathered hair. He turned away from her and touched the tapestry with his taloned fingers. She wondered if her decision to shut the window made him feel trapped.

  “I will talk to Gift,” Ace said without turning. “I will tell him your proposal. But I can’t guarantee anything. He makes his own decisions.”

  “I would worry about him if he didn’t.” Lyndred bit her lower lip. She was more concerned about Ace than she wanted to admit. “You’re not going to try to see Arianna, are you?”

  “I’ll let Gift make that decision as well,” Ace said.

  “Tell him what I said.”

  Ace nodded. She didn’t like the fact that he wouldn’t look at her. She wanted to go to him, to touch his arm, to pull him against her. She didn’t want him to be punished for spying on the Black Queen. But she had already warned him, maybe too many times. And he would make up his own mind.

  She didn’t like men she couldn’t control.

  Her hands became fists, tucked within her crossed arms. “Tell me,” she said, “is my cousin Gift as ruthless as his sister?”

  “You can decide for yourself when you meet him,” Ace said. He pushed aside the tapestry, and unlatched the windows. Then he climbed on the ledge, keeping the blanket clutched around him. He turned and looked at her. His dark eyes remained cold, birdlike, assessing. There was nothing of the man who had introduced himself to her aboard ship. No playfulness, no warmth.

  Then he leapt into the air, letting the blanket fall. By the time she made it to the window, he had shifted. The gull was lower than her window, his head and torso barely visible on top.

  He didn’t wave to her. He didn’t even look at her. Instead he flew over the wall and toward the river.

  She watched until she could no longer see him. Then she closed and latched the window, and prepared herself for the day ahead.

  FIFTEEN

  GIFT DECIDED to walk the short distance from the Cardidas River to the palace. He started out shortly after his meeting with Ace. Skya was beside him, Xihu behind him. Ace flew above, looking worried. Other Gull Riders were already in place, ready to protect him. Gift also brought a few Foot Soldiers to act as bodyguards. He hadn’t thought such a move necessary until that morning when Ace returned looking upset and more than a little frightened.

  Gift swayed as he walked. He hadn’t gotten his land legs back. He kept his hands at his side more for balance than for readiness. Although he did carry a knife, and so did Skya.

  She hadn’t wanted to go with him, but he had convinced her. She had been cool to him since the open Vision—cool and distant and sad. He wasn’t sure what was causing the sadness. The coolness and the distance he could attribute to the fact that the Vision had reminded her exactly what he was.

  Someday he would have to find out what it was about Visionaries that made her so wary.

  The walk felt familiar. He had been on this path a hundred times in his life. The first time he had actually run, with Arianna in pursuit. She had been angry enough to kill him that day.

  It had been the day they met.

  He smiled at the memory. Over time, they had become close. No one would have been able to tell the boy who fled his sister that they would later become close.

  He still trusted her, despite what he had heard from Ace, despit
e what he had seen as the ship had traveled inland. Arianna had been mercurial and difficult, but she had been the best choice to rule both Blue Isle and the Fey. It had been Gift’s decision fifteen years ago to place her in that position. He hadn’t wanted to be a leader. He had known what it entailed, and at the time, he hadn’t thought he had the stomach for it.

  This trip had shown him otherwise.

  Skya was watching him. She wore her purple, red and gold silk robes—the outfit she wore when they had met. The robes fell in layers. She had a sword tied to her waist, and the knife was in a holder beneath her left arm. Around her neck was a small collar of bells. She jingled as she walked. Her hair was pulled away from her face, accenting the sharpness of her features. She looked beautiful and exotic, clearly a creature who did not belong in Blue Isle.

  She had done this for effect, and he suspected the target was not Arianna but him. He wasn’t sure about the message, though, and he wasn’t ready to ask.

  Ace kept swooping down, as if to call attention to himself. Gift ignored him. Ace had wanted to come back to the palace alone, to enter as Lyndred had told him to do. Gift was worried that Lyndred had planned some kind of trick, and Ace acknowledged the possibility.

  Gift knew that Arianna would never kill anyone for spying on her, but he was wary as well. He had received warning after warning, some from Visions, some from Legends, and one from the spirit of his mother, that there was something wrong with his sister.

  He also didn’t like the fact that his uncle Bridge was here, nor did he like the things he’d heard about his cousin Lyndred. Yet Ace claimed that Bridge was a decent man—the most decent man in the Black Family, Ace had said, and then flushed. Apparently he thought Bridge more decent than Gift. To Ace’s credit, though, he didn’t apologize.

  Ace had also admitted, in this morning’s meeting, that he was deeply attracted to Lyndred. He had offered that information as an acknowledgement that his judgment might be clouded. Gift found it interesting that Ace seemed to feel she was untrustworthy in all matters, not just those of the heart.

  Gift had decided, long before Ace revealed his feelings for Lyndred, that he would not visit his cousin—at least, not until he had seen his sister. He had a feeling more would come of this meeting than he would like.

  He had told no one of his mother’s words. Arianna has been infected with dark magick. She is becoming what the Black Throne needs.

  And the Throne, which his mother considered a live thing, needed someone who would continue the Fey’s conquering of the world. The Throne wanted the Fey to have the Triangle of Might.

  “Gift?” Xihu asked softly.

  Gift shook his head. He wasn’t going to discuss this. Not with anyone. He had to see for himself.

  Even though his mother had warned him against that too.

  I fear for you if you go to Jahn, she had said. Sometimes dark magick triggers other dark magick.

  But, he had said to his mother, Ari needs my support.

  It will take you months to reach her, his mother replied, and by then she will be gone.

  Dead?

  I chose my words carefully, his mother had said, and explained no more.

  He had believed her then, and part of him believed her now. But he also knew that there were many things she hadn’t been allowed to tell him. She had conveyed to him, in that brief meeting, that she believed he and Arianna were corrupted, and that he had to have children to allow his parents’ vision to continue.

  Children.

  His whole life had been about learning until six months ago, when Madot had taken him to see the Black Throne. And only then had he realized he had been walking the wrong path.

  He still wasn’t sure of the right one. Perhaps that alone was reason to stay away from his sister. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. He didn’t take prophesies and warnings from Mysteries—even if the Mystery was his mother—as literal truth. He had to see for himself.

  “Gift?” Xihu said again.

  “What?” He had to struggle to keep the impatience from his voice.

  “There are other ways. She could come to you.”

  They were halfway to the palace. It gleamed ahead of them, its white walls untouched by the colors that had sprung up all over Jahn.

  “We’ve discussed this, Xihu. I want to go to the palace. I want to see all that’s changed.”

  “The palace is the place your sister controls,” Xihu said.

  “She controls the Empire. And I don’t like having the same discussion more than once, especially if the sole purpose is to make me change my mind.”

  Xihu raised her chin slightly. “You used to listen when a Shaman spoke.”

  “I used to be an apprentice.” The words were more bitter than he had intended.

  Xihu sighed, and said no more. Skya studied him, frowning. He did not meet her gaze. She was coming as his companion, not his guide, and he had told her that. When she had opened her mouth to deny the relationship, he had placed a finger over her lips.

  You have been my companion all the way across the Infrin Sea, he had said. I didn’t need to be guided home.

  She had moved her face away from his hand. The word “companion” makes me feel like an extension of you. It diminishes me.

  Nothing diminishes you, he had said, but she hadn’t believed him. And when she had appeared on deck, just before his party left, she had been wearing her exotic robes. She had walked beside him, and said nothing until now.

  No one else spoke. Ace continued to dive, and Gift continued to ignore him. The only sounds were their footsteps on the cobblestone and the jingle of Skya’s bells. Even the town around them was silent.

  He straightened his shoulders and focused on the palace. He was almost to it. The wall that protected it rose to his left, and ahead, he saw the gates. They were open, and Fey guards stood outside. The guards wore uniforms from his mother’s time. They were holding ceremonial spears he had never seen before on the Isle—although he had seen them in Galinas—and they wore swords.

  The disquiet he had been feeling grew. His sister had continued Islander traditions. She had used Islander guards, and had retained the palace staff. Even though she looked more Fey than Islander, she had always felt more comfortable with their father’s people. For some reason, this change made all the warnings seem more real.

  Gift left Skya’s side and moved slightly ahead of the party. His own guards flanked him. He ignored them. He reached the open gate, saw the Fey guarding it, and noted that they were older Infantry, not tall enough to have significant magick. He met the gaze of one and then the other. He nodded to them. They did not nod back. As he stepped inside the gates, they crossed their spears before him.

  Gift stopped. Skya reached him, and so did the rest of the party. They waited for him.

  “My name is Gift,” he said. “I am the Black Queen’s brother and the Heir to the Black Throne. You will let me pass.”

  No Fey dared refuse an order from a member of the Black Family unless they had higher orders rescinding it. But Fey rarely got in the way of disputes between the Black Family members. It was too dangerous. Arianna should have had Islander guards if she wanted to prevent Gift’s entry. They would have had no qualms about turning him away.

  Slowly the guards raised their spears. One of them nodded to him.

  “Forgive us, Sir,” he said, using the Fey form of address. “We had orders not to let anyone into the palace without prior approval.”

  “I’m not changing those orders. I’m merely trying to bring my friends into my home.” Then he smiled at the guards. “Carry on.”

  The one who had spoken gave him a tentative smile. The other did not meet Gift’s gaze.

  Skya was watching him as if she didn’t recognize him. Xihu looked thoughtful. His own guards had moved even closer, as if the encounter had unnerved them. Gift could no longer see Ace. As per instruction, his Gull Riders had made themselves scarce.

  He wal
ked through the gate as if he had left only an hour ago. He tried not to stare at the changes. And there were changes.

  The hay which was often stacked near the wall was gone. The stables were larger and seemed to be better cared for than ever. There were more horses than Gift had ever seen, tended by Fey grooms. The dogs that usually ran loose through the courtyard were gone. There were dogs, but not the rangy mutts that once had control of the place. These dogs were controlled, sitting along the wall as if waiting for a command.

  Their silent vigil made him nervous.

  The kitchen door was open, and from it he could smell fresh bread. He did not enter that way, although he would have in the past. Now he was going to use the entrance to the main hall, the one the Black King had used when he had taken the palace from Gift’s father, Nicholas.

  As Gift walked along the path toward that door, he saw a Fey infantry unit practicing its sword-fighting technique near the west wall. The unit had divided itself into pairs and was working on individual combat. There was no sound of metal on metal, though. They were using a technique he hadn’t seen since his grandfather was alive: silent practice, with more than a foot between the swords and a referee on one side.

  This unit was young, then, and not that experienced. It would be a matter of days before they could progress to actual contact between the swords.

  Arianna had never learned that sword-fighting technique. But Gift’s uncle Bridge had fought in the Nyeian campaign. Had he been the one to instigate this?

  More guards stood by the arched doors that led into the Great Hall. When Gift saw them, he nodded, then pulled the doors open before they could say a word. He strode through the doors as if he were part of an invading army.

  He was beginning to feel as if he were.

  One of the guards followed his party inside. The guard was thin and Fey. Scraggly hairs grew on his chin; a young man’s attempt at a beard.

  “Sir, I—”

  “Announce me,” Gift said. He sounded so much like his grandfather that it startled him.

  “Sir—”

  “In case you don’t recognize me, my name is Gift. I am the Black Queen’s brother. And I must say, the welcome I’ve had since I’ve come to Blue Isle has left something to be desired. Now, find my sister and announce me.”