The Black King (Book 7)

by Kristine Kathryn Rusch

He disagreed. He saw this as a chance at a career he’d never had, a career he would have wanted if his folks hadn’t pushed him and his Charm toward domestic service. He hadn’t been suited to that, so he had bought a ship and learned how to use his Charm in trade. It had been a profitable business, one he would go back to when this was all over.

  If Targil didn’t ruin it for him.

  She didn’t have Charm or Vision. Her magick when it had come had been something more Domestic, something she didn’t like to discuss. She had turned her back on it all and had become one of the better traders, although not as good as Grantley.

  He would talk to her when they docked. He would make certain she didn’t do something she would regret later. She had said no one would report what they did, but she was wrong. There were troops a day or so behind them now—Infantry, more Beast Riders—all ready to aid in the battle that Grantley and Targil were to start.

  The Islanders wouldn’t know what happened until their city was leveled and their countryside burned.

  “Ship ahead!” one of the Sailors called.

  Grantley frowned. He had been told there was little traffic on the Cardidas. Because of the mountains, the river didn’t go through many towns. Most of the ship trade went west of Jahn, not east.

  He couldn’t see anything in the fog. “Where?”

  “You can’t see it yet,” the Sailor said. “I’ve been checking with some of the Ze. They say there’s a ship coming in our direction.”

  The Ze were sea creatures that also swam in the Cardidas river. The younger Ze grew up in the river, and then swam to the ocean when they were full grown. The Sailors considered them a boon because the Ze were smart and easy to communicate with. Most creatures of the deep, according to Sailors, were either not very bright or not very communicative.

  “How far away is it?”

  “The Ze don’t measure distance like we do,” the Sailor said. “I’d say it’s around the bend.”

  Grantley snapped his fingers at one of the Nyeians who had served with him on several trade ships. The Nyeian didn’t even have to ask what Grantley wanted. She brought him his precious Tashil magnifier, a long tube with glass that somehow made far away things look big. He had paid a fortune for it, and had never regretted it. The magnifier had been the thing that had saved him during his meeting with the pirates.

  He took the magnifier from her and put it to his right eye, closing his left. Through the fog, he could barely make out large rocks jutting into the river on both sides. Then a slight bend. Beyond it, he thought he saw the shape of a ship.

  “What should we do?” the Sailor asked.

  “We wait,” Grantley said, still looking through the magnifier. “Send word to Targil to wait for my signal before doing anything.”

  “Yes, sir,” the Nyeian said. She disappeared.

  As Grantley’s ship drew closer to the jutting rocks, he could see around the bend better. There was a ship behind it, quite a distance away. They had half the morning before they ran into it.

  “Should I send for the Beast Riders and the Infantry?” The Sailor sounded enthusiastic. All of them seemed a little too eager for the battle ahead.

  Grantley squinted. Yes. That was the Tashka. His hands were clammy. Imagine if he had attacked it. What would have happened to him if he killed the Black Heir to the Throne?

  He shuddered.

  “Should I get them?” the Sailor asked again.

  “No,” Grantley said. “Find me another Nyeian. We have to let Targil know that she must leave that ship alone.”

  “Why?” the Sailor asked. “It’s clearly coming from Constant.”

  Grantley lowered his magnifier. “It’s the Black Heir’s ship.”

  The Sailor went gray. “Oh,” he said, understanding now what he was suggesting. “I’ll get the message to Targil myself.”

  “Good.” Grantley brought the magnifier back up to his eye.

  Thank the Powers that the Shaman had warned him.

  He hated to think what would have happened if he had attacked without knowing who was on that ship.

  FIFTY-TWO

  GIFT HATED THE FOG. It made the air colder and damper than usual. Even though he was wrapped in a Domestic spelled cloak, he still felt the wetness on his face.

  He stood on deck because he couldn’t stand going below. Bridge was down there in great pain. One of the Domestics, a lesser Healer than Chandra, was tending his leg. Gift had wanted Bridge to get off the ship and wait at the school, but he had refused.

  I’m the only one on this ship with military experience, he said. That might count for something.

  Gift had to admit that was true. Without Bridge, both he and Coulter would be dead now. If Bridge hadn’t acted quickly, then Coulter would have been shot and, by rights, Gift as well.

  How quickly, how neatly, things turned.

  The Assassin was dead, burned beyond recognition. The area around him had been blackened and charred by the lightning strike. When Gift had visited it, the area still tingled with power. He had left as quickly as he could.

  Late that night, after Bridge had had some rest, Gift had spoken to him. They both agreed that the moment in the water was probably the Vision Gift and others had been seeing. The fact that they had argued, playfully, about who would climb the ladder made the difference between Gift living and Gift dying, hence the moment’s importance.

  After that conversation, Gift had no way to convince Bridge to leave the ship.

  Gift had lost the same argument with Skya. He wanted her to stay in Constant, out of the reach of the Black King. She had given Gift a withering look and had said, See? This is what I mean. You and I are no longer equals. I am a woman to be protected, carrier of something more important than myself.

  He had denied that, but as he left, he wondered if he had been wrong. He was thinking on a larger scale than Skya. She was trying to maintain her individuality. He was trying to maintain an Empire.

  Now he had her working on a way to hold the jewels without touching them. She had hated that as well—Warder’s work, she had said—but she was doing it.

  Gift used the edge of his sleeve to wipe the moisture off his face. Rugad, through Lyndred, had warned them on purpose of that Assassin, probably to appease the Powers. But Bridge was right; it was luck that Coulter had survived. Luck, and Bridge’s experience. Someday Gift would have to ask Bridge what his past contacts with Assassins had been.

  He sighed. It wasn’t the weather that had him in this foul mood. It was the loss of Ace, his best and most trusted Gull Rider. Several other Riders had been injured, and they had opted to stay at the school where Chandra could treat them.

  But Ace was dead. Gift had seen his broken body, still in its Gull form, both his Gull neck and his Fey neck hanging at odd angles. He looked smaller somehow, as if the force of his personality had made him all that he was.

  Gift would miss him, but Gift wasn’t taking his death as hard as Lyndred.

  She had looked at Ace’s broken body, put a hand to her mouth and said nothing, but her eyes got hollow. When she knew that her father would be all right, she left his side and disappeared into her cabin. She hadn’t been out since.

  Arianna was the only one who seemed unaffected. She had a grim determination that kept them all focused on the task at hand. She was the one who got the Gull Riders to stay at the school. She was the one who agreed that Bridge should stay. And she was the one who actually had the makings of a plan for their return.

  She had wanted Gift, Coulter, and herself to fly back on those contraptions that Rugad had used. Skya had known how to make them. But with the death of Ace and the loss of the Gull Riders, there weren’t enough Bird Riders to handle the contraptions, even if someone had been able to make them.

  The group had to go back by ship.

  Arianna was extremely worried about this. She felt that Rugad would be watching for them, preparing for them. They needed to find a way to survive.

  It was difficul
t to fight from a ship and they didn’t have a lot of weapons. She and Gift agreed that they’d hold the Lights of Midday until they got back to Jahn. They had no bows and arrows, very few things that could be used to attack from the water.

  Only Beast Riders and Coulter.

  Gift wasn’t sure if Coulter would use his powers to attack Fey again, like he had so many years ago. Arianna had said that she would work on him. Gift didn’t know if she had been successful.

  One of the Nyeians touched Gift on the shoulder, startling him out of his reverie. “Ilipe would like to speak to you.”

  Gift didn’t like the sound of that. Ilipe was his best Navigator. Gift walked to the wheel. Ilipe was handling it himself. He didn’t even look at Gift. He stared straight ahead, as if he could see through the fog.

  “There’s word of other ships.” Ilipe’s voice was hollow, as if he were speaking in a large cave. Perhaps he was. He was getting information from four different Sailors, and he was steering the ship.

  “From what?” Gift had learned to ask long ago. Some creatures in the deep didn’t see all that well and couldn’t be trusted. Some inexperienced Sailors used them anyway.

  There was a momentary pause before Ilipe said, “The Ze.”

  The Ze could be trusted. “Where is it?”

  Again the pause. Information took time to travel along these links. “The ships are ahead of us. Not far. But I cannot be exact.”

  “I don’t suppose a Ze would know whose ships they are.”

  “The Ze say ships are rare here.” Ilipe still stared straight forward. Apparently he had already asked that question himself.

  Gift stiffened. Why would Rugad send ships? Was he going to risk attacking Gift directly? Or did he assume that the Assassin succeeded and Gift was dead? “How many ships?”

  “Two.” Ilipe’s mouth remained open for a moment as if he had forgotten to shut it. “They are covered with barnacles and have much rot. The Ze think they are not very sea-worthy.”

  In one of their conversations, Arianna had said that Rugad would have to work hard to find an army to send forth. That had apparently been true of his navy as well.

  “They travel side-by-side. The Ze think that is dangerous.”

  The Ze were quite opinionated. Gift almost smiled. “What else have the Ze observed?”

  Ilipe paused. “Two things. First, the ships carry a lot of weight. Second, the Ze are also helping them navigate the river.”

  Gift let out a small breath of air. So the ships knew about his presence as well. He peered into the fog. They were too far away to see, but close enough that the Ze were working with all sets of Sailors. In this strange fog, he might not know that the ships were near him until they were right on top of him.

  He stopped a nearby Nyeian. “Get my sister, a Bird Rider, and Coulter. Make it quick.”

  The Nyeian nodded and hurried below decks. Arianna wouldn’t arrive quickly—that wasn’t in her power at the moment—but Coulter would.

  The Bird Rider came up first. It was Beak, an extremely experienced Gull Rider, the only one of the group that attacked the Assassin who had managed to keep her Gull self under control. She was delicate, her black hair feathered like most Riders, her large nose strange on her tiny face.

  “There are ships ahead,” Gift said. “Let me know how far away they are and what kind of force they have, if any.”

  She nodded, then Shifted to her Gull form as she flew away. Her clothing littered the deck like leaves on a windy day.

  “What’s happening?” Coulter came out of the fog like an apparition.

  Gift told him.

  Coulter looked very serious. He peered into the fog. The Nyeian came up, with Arianna not far behind. The fog was good cloak right now, but it wouldn’t last. Gift turned to the Nyeian one last time. “Get me a Weather Sprite and Skya.”

  The Nyeian nodded.

  By the time they had finished the discussion, Coulter had told Arianna about the ships.

  Arianna’s expression hadn’t changed. She had looked concerned when she had come up and she looked concerned now. Gift still wasn’t used to the immobility of her face. The old Arianna would have had a reaction, however slight, to the news.

  “I can’t believe any Fey would attack knowing that Gift is on this ship,” Coulter said.

  “Maybe they don’t know,” Arianna said.

  “When Beak gets back, we’ll send her out again,” Coulter said. “We’ll tell them that this is the Black Heir’s ship. They have to know that Gift is on Blue Isle.”

  Gift nodded. “That might work.”

  “Of course it will work,” Arianna said. “Any Fey who knows about the Black Heir will tremble at killing him. But that doesn’t solve the real problem.”

  “It solves our problem,” Coulter said.

  She turned. “Does it?”

  “Of course it does. They’ll let us pass. Won’t they?” He asked this last of Gift.

  “Most Fey would,” Gift said, remembering his reception all through Galinas and Vion.

  “So we’ll get to Jahn and we’ll be able to face Rugad,” Arianna said. “At what cost?”

  Gift felt cold, and knew that the chill wasn’t coming from the fog.

  Skya joined them. She walked past Gift and stopped beside Coulter, as if he had become an ally. Coulter saw Gift’s glance and gave a minute shrug, as if to say he hadn’t chosen that position. Her dark eyes met Gift’s. He wasn’t ready to update her. When had she stopped being his partner? When had he replaced her with Arianna and Coulter?

  When he found out about the child. When he realized that she hadn’t been honest with him.

  He turned away. “What are you talking about?” he asked Arianna. “What do you mean, cost?”

  “Rugad isn’t going to send two ships to attack us.”

  Skya’s eyes widened. She caught on fast.

  “He’s sending them on another mission. If they kill us, fine. It’ll seem accidental, at least to those who count.”

  “The Powers,” Skya whispered.

  “That’s right.” Arianna’s words were clipped.

  “So what’s the mission?” Coulter was pale.

  Gift was shaking. He knew exactly what the mission was. He had lived through a similar one fifteen years ago.

  “He’s going to burn the countryside. He’s sending them to destroy Constant.” Gift kept his voice as level as he could.

  Coulter shook his head as if he couldn’t believe it. “They didn’t do anything.”

  “He knew you were hiding Arianna there, didn’t he?” Gift asked. “He knew about the school.”

  “He knew that Matt came from there,” Arianna said. “He knew that Matt was Matthias’s son. Matt told him.”

  “Then we have to go back,” Coulter said. “He won’t do this with just two ships. There’ll be more troops. We have to help.”

  “We help here.” Skya’s voice was soft. Gift met her gaze. She looked away from him. “That’s what you’re discussing, right? Two ships coming here. Now.”

  “Yes,” Arianna said.

  “Then we destroy the ships and we continue forward.”

  “And if those ships destroy us, Rugad wins,” Coulter said. “He wins the Empire without causing the Blood.”

  “What do you suggest?” Skya’s voice held deep sarcasm. “That you shield this ship from view? That we make it as hard to see as that Assassin back there and sneak into Jahn?”

  Gift looked at her. “That might be a plan.”

  She glared at him. The anger that she had been rigidly controlling flared out of her eyes, only to be dampened as if it had never been.

  “Coulter’s right,” Arianna said. “Two ships can’t destroy Constant. There’s too much magick there and Rugad knows it. He has to have a larger force.”

  “We can use the Riders to find out what that is,” Gift said.

  “We can’t engage those ships,” Coulter said. “Not with you and me and Arianna and Skya on board. We ca
n’t. We’d risk too much.”

  “We’d need a good strategy,” Arianna said to Gift as if Coulter hadn’t spoken. “We’d have to attack them without warning.”

  He nodded. “Surprise always works.”

  “What about those globes?” Skya asked.

  “No,” Arianna said. “They’re for Rugad.”

  “We might not get to Rugad,” Skya said.

  The Nyeian approached, a Weather Sprite behind him. This was one of the older Weather Sprites, one of the ones who had come with Bridge. Gift did not know her name. Her face was leathery and tough from too much time outdoors. Her features were almost hidden by her wrinkles. Like Gift, she wore a Domestic spelled cape. She looked lost inside hers, as if the years of her magick took away some of her mass.

  Gift held up a hand to her, signaling her to wait until they were done.

  “We will not use the globes,” Arianna said.

  “We don’t have many weapons here.” Skya looked at Gift. “This is not a military ship.”

  “Do you think Rugad is on one of those ships?” Coulter asked.

  “No,” Gift said. “I’d be surprised if Rugad ever came back to the Cliffs of Blood.”

  “That’s a hunch,” Skya said.

  “If you had seen how he died here, you would understand why he would never ever get close to the Place of Power again.”

  “Gift’s right,” Arianna said.

  “But this is not close to the Place of Power,” Coulter said. “Maybe he meant to meet us here.”

  “He sent an Assassin,” Gift said. “He’s not taking a risk on his own these days.”

  Beak emerged from the fog. She landed on the deck and immediately shifted into her Fey form. Even though she was naked, she didn’t seem to be cold.

  “We have perhaps an hour,” she said. “I’m not good at measuring the speed at which ships travel.”

  Gift nodded. He turned to the Weather Sprite. “Can you clear the fog all at once, so that we have a direct view of that ship?”

  “With help,” she said.

  “Do you have enough Sprites?”

  She nodded.

  “Good,” he said. “Get them and prepare them. You’ll do it on my order.”