The Black King (Book 7)

by Kristine Kathryn Rusch

  “I spied.” He was lying again. He hadn’t expected this.

  “On Coulter and his little school?”

  “Yes.”

  “But you said all the Enchanters were young there. So you haven’t been spying for long. Yet your skills are quite developed. In fact, you have the skill level of an Enchanter who has been doing the work for at least five years.”

  She pegged it correctly. He had been sneaking to Coulter for at least that long.

  The Black Queen crossed her arms. “I have quite a dilemma. I am in need of an Enchanter, but I want a Fey Enchanter. One I can trust.”

  “You’re part Islander.”

  “And you are pure Islander. Your father was the keeper of secrets that could kill the Fey. In fact, my father struggled to keep your father away from Gift and myself, for fear that your father’s religious magick would kill us.”

  “I’m not my father,” Matt said again.

  “If you were, I wouldn’t have let you in here.” She studied him. “It’s a measure of my trust that I even asked you to demonstrate your powers for me.”

  “You can check me out,” he said. “I’ll even let you cross my Links. You’ll see that I’m sincere.”

  When he mentioned Links, she raised her head slightly. He could feel how her gaze measured him. He wished he could control the way his heart was pounding inside his chest. He wanted her to take advantage of this. It would solve everyone’s problems, and quickly.

  “What an intriguing thought,” she said. “If I had another Visionary on my staff whom I trusted, I would do exactly that. But you’ll have to understand why I’m refusing. It would be a tremendous risk for me.”

  Matt bit his lower lip to keep it from trembling. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

  “I’m sure you hadn’t.” She didn’t sound at all sincere. “It’s a sign of your youth. And that’s my other problem. You’re an Islander, you’re young, and you come from a part of the country where there is simply too much rebellion. I need an Enchanter, but I’m not that desperate. I can wait.”

  Coulter had thought she was going to be that desperate. Coulter was convinced that Rugad didn’t want to rule without an Enchanter. Matt hadn’t expected Coulter to be wrong.

  “You can train me,” Matt said. “I am young and I am an Islander and I can’t help where I’m from, but you could train me into being exactly the kind of Enchanter you want.”

  She studied him for a moment. “That’s a possibility.”

  She walked over to him. He got a vague sense of two people staring at him—the woman he saw and the man he knew to be controlling her. How could he see Rugad? Was it the way his magick worked? Or was it simply his imagination, providing what he already knew was there?

  She stopped in front of him. He understood what was different. The eyes looked like the eyes in a mask. They didn’t quite belong with the face.

  “All right,” she said. “I have some things to settle. I’m not ready to train an Enchanter. I was hoping for one who was fully developed, older and Fey. But it looks like I’ll have to have you.”

  Matt’s heart leapt at the same moment as fear gripped him.

  “Come back to me in a year,” she said. “By then my affairs should be in order and I’ll be ready for you.”

  He had been so nervous he almost missed what she said. “A year?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s a long time.”

  “In your short life, perhaps. Are you unwilling to wait?”

  “No, no,” he said. “I’ll wait. You want me here, right? At the palace?”

  “I don’t care what you do as long as you come back here a year from now.”

  “I’m willing to start right away,” he said.

  She frowned at him. “Are you going to argue with me, boy? This is more of an opportunity for you than it is for me.”

  “No,” he said. “I’m not going to argue.”

  “Then it’s settled. I’ll see you at this time next year.”

  She turned and walked out of the room. He stared after her, and then his knees buckled. He caught himself on one of the upholstered chairs.

  He had succeeded, and he had failed at the very same time. They hadn’t planned for this. They had thought he would be able to stay close.

  He should have come in here with his knapsack. He should have brought the dolls and when she asked him to test his magick, he should have used the Islander spell. But he wouldn’t have had time. Those guards would have been inside long before he was finished.

  And now he had to leave. This was their big chance and he had blown it. They couldn’t wait a year.

  He didn’t know what to do.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  DARKNESS WAS FALLING as Dash pulled the carriage into a turn-out. Coulter had decreed that they camp near the carriage slightly off the main roads.

  Arianna liked the breaks from the bump and jostle of the carriage. She hadn’t ridden in one since she took a golem’s form. The stone was rigid, and each jolt made her worry that she would crack. She couldn’t rest while they moved, and rest was becoming very important.

  The moment the carriage stopped, Con was out the side door. He and Dash had established themselves as the ones who would set up their small camp. Coulter was left with the responsibility of helping Arianna. He didn’t seem to mind.

  She did. She hated to have help getting into and out of the carriage, and she hated not being allowed to lay out her own sleeping blankets. She wanted to cook one of the meals, even though she hadn’t cooked over a fire since she had been in the mountains with her father fifteen years ago. She wanted the ability to do things for herself again.

  As soon as she could, she’d go to the other side of the road, where the bank sloped down to the Cardidas and work on her Shifting. If that worked, at least she would gain control of something.

  Coulter got out of the carriage before she did, and then waited at the bottom of the step for her. She lumbered to her feet, grabbed the door frame and eased herself out.

  “How much farther do we have to go?” she asked as she took Coulter’s hand. He helped her keep her balance as she took the steps to the ground. As she moved away from the carriage, she could hear burble of the river.

  “Two more days.”

  “It didn’t take this long to get from Jahn to Constant six months ago,” Arianna said.

  “Then we traveled all the time.” Coulter pulled her close and put his arm around her. “We didn’t stop except to change horses and drivers. Remember?”

  She didn’t remember entirely. Then Rugad had her body and she had to live inside a space in Coulter’s mind. She had been frightened then—for her future and herself.

  She wasn’t frightened any more. Just determined.

  She slipped her arm around his back. She could feel his solid muscles. After a moment, his body heat warmed her stone skin.

  “Do you need help practicing your Shifting tonight?” he asked softly.

  If he didn’t have a firm grip on her, she would have pulled away in surprise.

  “No need to start, Ari,” he said. “I watched you the night before we left. That’s what you were trying to do, isn’t it?”

  She nodded.

  “I might be able to help you.”

  “How?”

  “I’ll show you. First, let me tell the others we’ll join them after a while.” He let her go, then grinned. “They’ll think the worst of us.”

  “I wish the worst were possible,” she said.

  His grin faded. “It probably is.”

  She shook her head. “I wouldn’t be able to feel anything. And I’d be so cold.”

  “You’re never cold, Ari,” Coulter said. He slipped around the carriage and went to Dash and Con.

  Never cold. She was always cold these days. Cold and dead, except inside. She cautiously made her way down the slope, finally sitting and easing herself down the bank to the edge of the water.

  She wasn’t sure why
she wanted to be here. Mostly because she didn’t want anyone else to see her fail at something that had once been as natural as breathing. It felt odd to let Coulter watch her, but Coulter knew everything about her, and it didn’t seem to change his mind.

  The Cardidas was darker than the land, like a black ribbon dividing the ground. There was no moon, at least not yet, and down here the daylight was completely gone. The air smelled cool and damp, the ground was probably wet, but she wouldn’t be able to tell until she stood and wiped the dirt off herself.

  After a moment, she hear footsteps on the grass behind her. A thin light illuminated the area around her. Coulter sat beside her. He was using his index finger for light. It burned softly, a glow of fire around the digit, circling it but not consuming it. She took her hand in his, careful not to touch the flame. That was the difference between their magicks. His finger still existed as a finger. If she succeeded in Shifting, her finger would become a flame.

  “Let’s try some sympathetic magick.” He extended his burning finger. “Touch your index finger to mine and absorb the flame.”

  “Will it burn me?” she asked.

  “I’ve never seen Sebastian burn. Only crack.”

  She smiled. Coulter’s face looked ruddy in this light. He was so handsome. She longed to touch him, not finger to finger but as a lover would. Instead she extended her index finger and touched the tip to his. The flame still surrounded his finger.

  “Now,” he said, “imagine the flame crossing over to your finger.”

  “It doesn’t work that way.”

  “I know,” he said. “Humor me.”

  She stared at their fingertips. His fire was cool and white, a source of light but not heat. Fires weren’t just light. They were heat and passion and risk, all rolled together. They were barely at the edge of control, like a wild animal that someone had insufficiently tamed. She imagined the tip of her finger bursting into flame. But nothing happened.

  “It’s not working,” she said.

  “Keep trying.” He sounded so patient.

  She could imagine it. She even knew how the Shift should feel. But that place inside her mind, the place that controlled the Shifting, wasn’t there.

  It was in her body, in Jahn. Under Rugad’s control.

  She pulled her finger away from Coulter’s. “I can’t.”

  “Ari—”

  She got to her feet. “It was stupid to try.”

  “It’s not stupid, Ari.” She recognized the tone as the one Coulter used with his students. “Try again.”

  “No. I could feel the Shift this time, Coulter. The mechanism isn’t here. I can’t do it, not in this—thing.”

  He stood too. “Right now, that’s your body. It should be able to Shift.”

  “Well, it can’t. It can’t run, either, and it can’t walk very well, and it doesn’t even need to eat. Why should I expect it to Shift?”

  She walked down the embankment, careful not to slip. She felt Coulter watching her, making sure she was all right. But he was wise enough to leave her alone now.

  The river burbled past her. One contingency plan gone. It was a vain hope to think this body could Shift, but it had been her best hope. Now she had to rely on everyone else.

  She wasn’t sure if she could do that.

  TWENTY-SIX

  MATT CARRIED his knapsack out of the palace. The Fey let him keep his new clothing. They had apparently burned the others. He was being escorted by four Fey soldiers as if he were some kind of threat. If he wanted to, he could snap a finger and light them all on fire. Or toss them against a wall. He could hold them in a place with the force of his hand.

  Surely the Black Queen knew that, so this was for show. Or perhaps it was an acknowledgement of his power, and a hope that he would acknowledge hers. Maybe she really believed he would come back within a year.

  They had brought his knapsack to him, so it was a good thing he hadn’t hidden the dolls in the room. Not that they were of much use to him now. He had failed.

  Coulter and Arianna were coming to Jahn—they might already be in Jahn—and they were relying on Matt. What were they going to do now?

  He had to hide his panic. He didn’t want the guards to know how upset he was. He had to act as if he were honored, and that was hard enough with the panic gripping his stomach.

  He was truly on his own.

  The guards had led him into a great hall. One of its walls were covered with swords. He had heard of this room. His father had told stories of banquets held here, of ceremonies, and how Arianna’s mother had lain in state here because her father had not wanted her in the Tabernacle as befitted a Queen of Blue Isle. And how Matt’s father had not objected: he had seen the Fey Queen as a disgrace to all that the Isle had been.

  The floor-to-ceiling windows looked black. Apparently darkness had fallen and he hadn’t even known it. Several torches hung in this main room, their light catching the swords. Matt looked at them. Several of the swords were made of varin. His father had told him that as well. They had survived the earliest battles for the Roca and had been placed on the wall in safe-keeping. Other swords from other, lesser battles had also been placed on the walls, and the varin swords had gotten lost.

  Con had found one during his fight with some Fey. He had told Matt that story shortly before Matt left. Con had been Matt’s age then, and Con had told him the story to give him courage.

  God will provide, Con had said.

  Matt could only hope that Con was right.

  The soldiers didn’t even seem to notice where Matt was looking. He could use his magick to bring one of the varin swords to his hand. He could slice these soldiers apart, then run back to that room and slice the Black Queen in half. Rugad would die in Arianna’s body.

  But Matt didn’t know if Arianna would live without her body. Even if she did, he didn’t think she would be very happy with him. She hated the body she was in and she made that clear.

  The soldiers had reached a double door. They pulled it open and held it for Matt. He walked through, leaving temptation behind him.

  He was on a path that curved around the palace. To his right, the Infantry trained. He could hear their swords clashing. He was amazed that Rugad let them train at night. What was that point? Was he planning night-time raids? Matt didn’t know enough about Fey military policy to know if that was one of their tactics.

  The soldiers led him around the palace to a gate he hadn’t seen before.

  “I had a horse,” he said.

  “The Black Queen said nothing about a horse,” one of the soldiers said.

  “But I came on a horse.”

  “Then you’ll have to negotiate its return in the morning. Our orders are to escort you off palace grounds.”

  It wasn’t his horse. It was Coulter’s horse. He couldn’t face losing the horse as well. “Please. Let me have my horse. There’s a woman named Zayna. She’s the one who sponsored me here. She’d know.”

  “You may see her in the morning,” the soldier said. “Leave us now.”

  Matt stood in front of the open gate. He thought about the horse, the swords, the woman inside who wasn’t a woman at all. He still had the glass dolls in his knapsack. Maybe he could use the horse as an excuse to come here again. He could attack the Black Queen at the right moment, after he was sure Arianna and Coulter were here.

  “All right.” He shrugged the knapsack over one shoulder and walked through the gate. He kept his head up as he stepped onto the cobblestone street.

  The night was cold and the air had a dampness to it that made him even colder. All of the buildings had torches burning near their doors. The city was abnormally light.

  Behind him, the gate closed. In spite of himself, he turned to look at it. He was shut out and he had nowhere to go.

  Con had said he would take Arianna and Coulter into the tunnels below the city. There were dozens of ways to get to them, Con had said, but the easiest was through the ruined Tabernacle. At least Matt knew
where that was. He would go there.

  He wasn’t sure what side of the palace he had exited on. He turned until he saw the bridge. It was lit as well. The torches on it reflected in the water below. Across that bridge was the Tabernacle and a place to sleep. At least he had been feed well in the palace, and he still had food left in his knapsack. Not much, but enough to survive on for a few days.

  He would have to take this day by day, moment by moment.

  He had to walk past the palace wall to get to the wide cobblestone street. It was wider than the others and better lit. Lamps hung from poles spaced four buildings apart. This was a wealthy area, apparently, and someone believed the extra light would keep it safe.

  The extra light made him uncomfortable. He walked closer to the buildings than he normally would have. He didn’t want to be seen—an Islander failure, tossed out of the palace before he had a chance to complete his mission. The Tabernacle seemed like a long walk. His father had taken this walk too, after fighting with the Islander King. After choosing to defend the Isle against the Fey instead of cooperating with Nicholas.

  Matt hadn’t thought this much about his father in months. He wasn’t sure if it was the city that made him feel this way or his own failings. Or perhaps, for the first time, he felt as if he had gone up against an evil Fey, just like his father believed them to be.

  Suddenly someone grabbed him, put a hand over his mouth, wrapped another around his chest and dragged him backwards. He struggled, but the hands held him tightly. They pulled him into an alley darker than the road. A thin trail of light from the main street looked like salvation.

  Whoever held him was larger and stronger. Matt was going to have to—

  The hand holding his mouth let go and formed the symbol for silence. The symbol he and Wisdom had come up with.