Fey 02 - Changeling

by Rusch, Kristine Kathryn

  The phrase was so stark, so casual, as if they were speaking about an animal instead of a man they had all known.

  "Who killed him?" Miller asked.

  "We don't know," Enford said. "Monte and Lord Stowe are still there, hoping to find something."

  "What do you need to find?" Holbrook said. "You have an arrow, so you have an archer. Archers work within a certain range and distance. There isn't much to conceal a man in those marshes. If you had conducted a search right away, you would have found your killer."

  "There were trees," Enford said. "We sent guards there."

  "But these were marshes, right?" Jewel said. "Couldn't someone be hiding in the water?"

  "We searched the surrounding area. They wouldn't have gotten away without us seeing them."

  "But they did." Fesler's voice was soft, but accusatory. "Who was in your party, Enford?"

  "Besides Lord Stowe and myself, only some guards and a Danite. And Monte, of course."

  "Of course," Fesler said. "All trusted. Like Stephen."

  Stephen. Matthias leaned heavily on the chair back, the wood cutting into his forearms. Stephen had been Nicholas's swordmaster. A Fey doppelgänger had taken Stephen's place, nearly killed Nicholas, and had access to the King.

  "We have a treaty," Jewel said tightly.

  "And the Fey are well known for keeping their agreements," Matthias said.

  Jewel glared at him from across the table. "I was not in that kirk when your Rocaan was killed."

  "No," Matthias said. "But you knew about it."

  "I keep my agreements."

  "As well as a Fey can."

  Nicholas turned around. "Leave her, Matthias. She has kept our agreement from the moment we made peace."

  Everyone in the room turned and looked at Nicholas, all with surprise on their features. But Nicholas didn't even seem to notice his insult. He had never failed to use the proper term of respect for Matthias before. But Matthias would have to let it pass. Nicholas was King now.

  "I would rather think that a Fey killed our king than someone in his own traveling party," said Canter, in an obvious attempt to break the awkward silence. He inclined his head toward Jewel. "With your pardon, milady. But someone committed the deed."

  She nodded at him. "It would benefit all of us to find this killer as quickly as possible."

  "As if, milady, you have no knowledge of this," Matthias said.

  She raised her head. The look made her almost as tall as he was, and gave her an imperial quality no one else on the Isle could match. "Are you suggesting that I would murder my husband's father?"

  "I am suggesting that you had knowledge of this, just like you had knowledge of the 50th Rocaan's death."

  "And where would I have gained this knowledge?"

  "Don't your people confide in you any longer, milady? Aren't you supposed to know all that happens among the Fey."

  "Holy Sir," Holbrook said softly. "We have no proof as to who committed the killings."

  "It happened in the Marshes," Egan said. "There are no Fey in that area."

  "And Fey have other weapons," Miller said. "They don't use bow and arrow."

  "But they disappear quickly and without a trace, don't they, milady?"

  "Yes they do," she said. She took a step toward him, but Nicholas grabbed her arm. She shook his hand off, but remained where she was. "But if we wanted your King dead, we could have done so a dozen different better ways. I could have slit his throat in his sleep many a night. He was only up the stairs from me. Any one of my people could have attacked him during the marriage feast. Or you, for that matter, Holy Sir."

  "Jewel —" Nicholas began.

  "But we did not. We have kept our side to this agreement. I stay here, in a place that treats women like cattle, because I made a bargain for my people's lives. How do we know that you didn't assign one of your little minions to assassinate the King? You want the war back badly enough. You could then blame it on us."

  "The Holy Sir would never do that," Miller said, his voice shaking.

  "The Holy Sir already has the blood of hundreds of Fey on his hands. What's one more life?"

  Matthias could feel himself flush. Always their arguments ended like this, with him accusing her of the murder of the Rocaan and her accusing him of all the deaths caused by holy water.

  "Jewel," Nicholas said softly. "This will not help us."

  "Neither will his accusations. I am part of your family now, whether he likes it or not. Losing Alexander threatens my people as well. We have a fragile truce here, no thanks to men like your religious leader over there. He would like to shatter it altogether."

  "Is that true, Holy Sir?" Enford asked quietly.

  Matthias stood, unwinding himself to his full height. "The Fey made an agreement to meet the Rocaan in a peaceful situation. They broke that agreement and murdered him."

  "That was five years ago," Holbrook said.

  "I made my pact with Nicholas after that," Jewel said. "Because of that awful day."

  "I believe that the Fey have learned that they cannot conquer us by their traditional methods, so they have chosen a more time-consuming less traditional way."

  "Jewel is my wife," Nicholas said. "Be careful what you say."

  "Yes," said Matthias. "And the Fey charm and enchant. She has magicked you, Highness."

  "You know nothing of my people," Jewel said.

  "This gets us nowhere." Holbrook approached the table. "It doesn't matter who murdered the King. At this moment, we must determine how to control this news, how to prevent the war from starting again, how to stop riots in the streets. There will be a panic, Highness. You are going to have to show them that you can rule, and rule well."

  "He's right," Fesler said. "You'll have to take power immediately."

  "He already has," Enford said.

  "Formally, so that the people understand the wheels of government continue turning," said Holbrook.

  "What about the Fey?" asked Egan.

  "We'll ask them for a delegation to the coronation. Jewel will tell us whom to invite," Nicholas said.

  She shot him a curious glance. Matthias saw the reluctance in it. "Where is the ceremony held?"

  "In the Tabernacle," Matthias said.

  "My people can't go in there," Jewel said.

  "They'll have to. It's tradition." Matthias smiled. "Or you'll have to step down as Nicholas's queen."

  "I don't think the attendance is important," Nicholas said. "It's the invitation that counts."

  Jewel's hand had strayed to her belly again. "And me? I must attend. And no Fey has come out of that building alive."

  Nicholas put his hand over hers. "We'll decide location later, Jewel. They're right, though. We need to consolidate power quickly, and you need to be beside me. To prevent any conflict at all."

  Jewel kept her hand in his, but her lips tightened slightly, as if his dismissal bothered her. Matthias leaned on the chair, making certain he looked calm, trying to appear as if he were watching Nicholas instead of Jewel.

  Matthias couldn't tell if she was acting. Something about this entire interaction was bothering him. Perhaps the murder of Alexander was deliberate, and perhaps Jewel knew about it. That meant then that she, and her deformed children, would be closer to the throne. What an easy way to gain power. What an effective way.

  He would discuss this with Nicholas when the two of them were alone.

  "We need to make the announcement about the King's death today," Enford said. "Too many people know already. All of the guards who traveled with him, people in the Marshes, and now this room. The secret will out. Better that we control the information."

  "I'll make a formal announcement when we're done," Nicholas said. All trace of his earlier anguish was gone. He would handle rule well. If he got a chance to do so.

  If the woman let him live.

  Matthias licked his lips. They were dry and chapped. "We'll need the coronation quickly, so that everyone will know you are cons
olidating power. I would suggest two days hence."

  "Too soon," Holbrook said. "If he acts that quickly, he implicates himself in his father's death."

  "We are a nation under siege," Matthias said. "If he does not act quickly enough, our enemies will."

  "'Our enemies,'" Jewel muttered and slipped her hand from Nicholas's. He captured it again, and pulled it to his side as if he were holding her back.

  "I think Matthias is right," Nicholas said. Jewel looked at him sharply, as if she couldn't believe what he was saying. He smiled a little at her, a private smile between them only. "Let me amend. I think he is right that we must consolidate quickly. Two days seems reasonable to me. His reasons are faulty. I doubt the Fey would use this event to overtake our government or to start hostilities again. We have Jewel here, many of them live among us now, and they have yet to learn the secret of our holy water. They won't change the plans from under us now."

  Jewel was watching him closely, her dark eyes glittering. Matthias stiffened. He wasn't certain if he should take Nicholas's comments as support or insult.

  "I do believe that our people need to know that the government is functioning normally. They need to know that, even though life has changed these five years, we will still be there for them." Nicholas paused, and took a breath.

  "They need to know," Egan said into the gap, "that even when a King is assassinated, the lineage goes on."

  Matthias's gaze met Nicholas's. Nicholas closed his mouth. He flushed and looked away. They agreed on one thing. If Nicholas died, Sebastian could not take over. Nicholas would have to make provisions different from the norm. The norm had always been that the Queen Mother ruled as regent until her son was ready to lead. Such a thing could not happen this time.

  "You'll need to improve your own security," Matthias said.

  "I'm fine now," Nicholas said.

  "No," Fesler said. "Someone got to your father and we thought he was well protected. You'll need even more protection. Your son —" he bit off what he was going to say. Then he cleared his throat as if the pause were intentional. "Your son is too young to take over."

  "Even if he were old enough," Holbrook said, "losing two rulers in rapid succession would cause a kind of chaos that could destroy the foundation of this government."

  Nicholas ran a hand over his face. He backed away from all of them. "We'll make sure that doesn't happen."

  Matthias kept his gaze on Jewel. She looked over at him, chin jutted out, as if she expected him to comment on her presence. He would not. He had done enough baiting this day. She was a threat. The others might realize it, but none of them had the ability to say so in front of Nicholas. Matthias had. That would be enough for now.

  He would speak to Nicholas later. Matthias would again explain the enchantments. He would point out the disaster of an heir she had given him. He would ask Nicholas to use the precedent set by King Ulysses three centuries before. Set aside his wife. Take a new one. Make a new heir.

  And save Blue Isle.

  SIX

  The fire in the cabin had burned low. Adrian put more logs on the flame, then warmed his hands over it. Since his imprisonment to Shadowlands, he had been cold. Five years. Five years without seeing the sun, without feeling the rain on his face, without the wind ruffling his hair. Of course, he had gone out on rare occasions to meet with his son Luke, as agreed, but those occasions only made the return to Shadowlands worse.

  Five years before he and Luke had been part of an Islander squad that attacked Shadowlands with holy water. They had thought that the invisible hiding place would disappear when splashed. But it hadn't. Instead, the Fey had been ready for the attack. They had killed most of the troop, captured three members, and taken some holy water to study.

  Adrian was now the only prisoner remaining. He had bargained for his son's life. The third prisoner died in Fey experiments a few months later.

  The bargain Adrian had made with Jewel forced him to remain with the Fey until he died. He taught them about Islander culture in exchange for Luke's freedom. Once a year, he got to see his son under Fey supervision outside Shadowlands to make certain that Luke still lived.

  The last visit had been two months ago, and already he was thinking of the next. But the visits were the only things that sustained him. Life inside Shadowlands was long and fear-filled. The Shadowlands themselves were created by the Fey as a hiding place, a large hole in the sky, like a box. The interior was gray, the walls were invisible, but hard to the touch. Nothing grew here. Colors leached out of clothing, faces, and food. Since Adrian was captured, he felt as if he had turned gray himself.

  He glanced around the cabin one more time. Lately he had been more of a servant than a teacher. Rugar ordered him about like a slave. The cabin was clean and swept as Rugar had commanded, everything in its place, and a fire constantly going. Rugar had been gone a long time now, and he had instructed Adrian to start the fire two weeks after Rugar left. The fire had been burning for a week, and still no Rugar. Such a waste of resources. But Adrian could say nothing.

  He sank into the chair closest to the fire and debated whether or not to make some root tea. He wouldn't want to be too comfortable when Rugar got back, but then Rugar couldn't do much to him. Adrian had shown over the years that he could withstand any realistic punishment the Fey dished out. Jewel had requested that no magic be performed on him, and none had been.

  At least that he knew of.

  One thing he had learned, as the only Islander ever to live in the Fey world, was that Fey magic was subtle and often difficult to recognize. It came in different forms, in strange types, and rarely had the flash he had always associated with magic. If he were spelled, he doubted he would know it.

  But his feeling that they had left him alone was another of Jewel's legacies. She had promised, if he cooperated, that they would treat him well within the confines of Shadowlands.

  That promise had held.

  He was frankly surprised. He had been afraid that when Jewel left, she would take her assurances with her. But Rugar had been too beaten by his own failures to notice Adrian, and after that, Adrian had become too much a fixture in Shadowlands, teaching Fey the Isle language and customs, and helping with manual tasks too menial for the magical to perform.

  Rugar had turned his anger on Adrian only once, and then Mend, one of the Domestics, had intervened.

  Adrian pushed himself up. The thought of Mend always made him restless. Unlike the other magical Fey (the non-magical were a different matter), Mend treated him with respect. She spoke to him one being to another instead of master to servant. She smiled at him when she saw him, and went out of her way to speak to him.

  She was too slender and had deep circles under her eyes — Domestics were overworked and slept little — but her dark hair was glossy, and he found himself at the oddest moments thinking about the upswept angle of her eyebrows and the thin line of her mouth.

  Prisoner bonding. Someone had told him about it. Prisoners would eventually identify and idolize their captors. He had once thought it impossible, but now he wasn't so sure.

  At least he wasn't idolizing Rugar.

  Voices sounded close outside. Adrian stood guiltily — he didn't want to be caught relaxing in Rugar's home — and wiped his hands on his pants. Then he crouched in front of the fire, straightening the wood pile, doing makework to look busy. He had heard voices like this in the days previous and nothing had come of it, but he decided then that it was better to act as if Rugar had come home rather than to be surprised.

  The voices sounded angry, confused. He couldn't make out the words, but he thought he recognized a few of the Domestics, speaking in urgent tones. The Domestics had been on edge for days because the Shaman was unhappy. She had seen a Vision that had so deeply disturbed her that she came out of her cabin to talk with Rugar who was, of course, gone.

  It seemed odd to Adrian that the Fey's Shaman hadn't known that the military leader was gone. But then the more he watched the
Fey, the less he understood them.

  His back was getting stiff. He switched positions. The fire was hot this close. He would have to leave soon, but he didn't want to while there was a crowd outside. Most of the Fey remaining in Shadowlands knew that Adrian acted now as Rugar's private servant, but not all of them liked the fact that Rugar had a servant. Only Rugar, being the Black King's son and the nominal leader of the group, never heard the complaints.

  Adrian did.