Fey 02 - Changeling

by Rusch, Kristine Kathryn

  "I dinna know, mum, but seemed twas close ta me," the nurse said, still holding Arianna.

  Solanda took her hands off the baby, not wanting to trigger another Shift. She wondered if her own Shifts were causing Arianna to experiment or if something about the Shift triggered the baby. She wouldn't be able to stand remaining in the same form every day. She would have to teach Arianna how to control the Shifts first. Maybe by holding her and doing slow Shifts until Arianna gained control.

  "It was close," Solanda said. "If we hadn't been here, she would have killed herself."

  "Beg pardon, mum," the nurse said. "If ya tweren't here. I dinna know magic."

  "You know enough," Solanda said. "You concentrate on what she looks like, remind her of her Fey form, and talk to her until I get here."

  "But twould be na way ta get ya, mum. I'd be with her sweetness."

  Solanda bit back a response. She was trapped here. She had made this bed, and she would have to remain in it. "I'll stay here," Solanda said. "I won't leave until she has this controlled."

  "Aye, mum, even us tenders need ta get away else we do na good."

  "How would you suggest I leave her?" Solanda asked. The question came out harsher than she expected. Arianna looked up at her. The baby's breath was coming normally now and her skin had returned to its natural color.

  "I dunno," the nurse said. "Perhaps twould be all right ta send Sebastian for ye."

  "That lump?" Solanda looked at it. It had gotten up and come to the nurse's side. It was half-hidden in her skirts and peering into the crib.

  "Mum, please. Dinna call him such things. The boy is slow, but na deaf."

  Solanda sighed. These ignorant creatures had no idea what they were thinking was a child. But as long as she was here, she could avoid saying 'lump' in conversation. "I don't think sending him after me would be a good idea. What if he forgot? Or worse, stopped moving?"

  "Twouldn't do that," the nurse said.

  "But he knows so little of the palace. He wouldn't be quick enough."

  The nurse nodded. If anyone considered the lump as a true child, the nurse did. The woman had a good heart. She just wasn't much smarter than her charge.

  Solanda sighed. "If I need to leave the room, we'll bring in someone else you trust to watch Arianna. Then we can send that person for me. Or maybe I'll leave when Nicholas comes. We know he has a vested interest in this little girl."

  "Aye, mum. Tis a good idea, that."

  Obviously. Solanda was known for her good ideas. Like this one. Her heart was still pounding from the closeness of that Shift. Perhaps there was a way to get the Shaman here to examine this child again. Or maybe a way to have a Domestic here permanently. Solanda would ask Nicholas the next time she saw him.

  He wouldn't object, but finding another Fey willing to live in the palace after what had happened to Jewel would be almost impossible. Solanda did it because she had to --she had to take care of Arianna --but no one else felt that need. Not even the Shaman.

  Solanda wondered what the Black King would think of that.

  A small movement beside her caught her attention. The lump had pushed closer to her. Its skin was surprisingly warm. Its forefinger was in its mouth and it was staring into the crib.

  Slowly it brought its finger from its mouth. A thread of saliva ran from the fingertip to its tongue. The nurse caught its hand before it could touch the baby.

  It looked at the nurse. "Is that my sister?" it asked. The words came out hesitantly. Slowly. As slowly as its movements.

  The nurse shot an uncertain glance at Solanda. Solanda wondered what the problem was.

  "Of course," Solanda said. "Her name is Arianna."

  "Airy," the lump said. "Airy Anna."

  Tears had filled the nurse's eyes. "He's never said more than two words. Except when he cried for his mother."

  "Airy Anna," the lump said. "Pretty."

  "What's he saying?" the nurse whispered.

  A chill ran down Solanda's back. She hadn't realized. No wonder the nurse hadn't understood.

  The lump was speaking Fey.

  THIRTY-FIVE

  Nicholas was still in his chambers, finishing the last of the pastries the cook had sent up for his breakfast. He was nursing a cup of herbed tea, and ignoring the warmed milk with the tiny skin on top. The cook had included the milk ever since Jewel's death. Nicholas didn't want to know why. It probably had to do with taking proper care of one's self while grieving.

  A fire burned in the grate. He had left his bedroom and was sitting in the main suite as close to the fire as he could get. He wasn't sleeping well — some nights not at all — and found that lack of sleep meant he was always chilled. He didn't even open the tapestries, like he used to do in the spring. He didn't want to see the empty chairs around the room, the places where Jewel used to sit with him, the places where they used to talk.

  He was dressed for the day, in breeches and a peasant shirt, but he wasn't ready to start working yet. First he had to see his daughter, then he had to determine how to care for Jewel's body. That, of course, would lead him to Matthias, a subject he didn't want to consider at all.

  When he saw Solanda, he would ask her how best to contact the Shaman. The quicker he made the trade, the better they all would be.

  The knock on his suite door didn't surprise him. He had already been in his chambers longer than he had planned. The urgency of the knock did, however.

  "Sire?" the voice belonged to his chamberlain. "Beg pardon, Sire, but tis a lord here ta see ya. Says tis urgent."

  It was always urgent these days. "It can wait until I open the audience chamber."

  "No, Sire, we need to talk now." The voice belonged to Lord Stowe. Nicholas sighed. Now. Everything was now. Someday he might have time for then.

  "Stowe, I have other business —"

  "Not as important as this," Stowe said. "It concerns Matthias."

  So no one else was calling Matthias the Rocaan any more either. How very interesting. Nicholas took the last bite of his pastry, wiped his mouth with a cloth, and pushed his tray aside. After a second's consideration, he grabbed the mug of herbal tea and cradled it against his chest.

  "Come."

  "Sire, I'm bringing your chamberlain with us. I assume you trust him."

  That sentence alerted Nicholas. He sat up. Something was odd here. "I do," Nicholas said.

  The door opened. The chamberlain came in first. His elderly body was bowed as if the weight of the meeting oppressed him. He normally stood very straight and interfered with nothing. He slipped to the side and stood there, as if prepared to bolt for the door. But beside him was Nicholas's sword.

  Nicholas noted that, and nodded to the chamberlain. The man did not nod back.

  Lord Stowe entered. He appeared even more fatigued than he had the day before, if that were possible. He wore breeches and a white shirt, untied at the neck. The dagger around his waist was turned toward the front so that the man behind him could not grab it easily.

  Nicholas recognized the third man, but it took a moment to place him. He was young, about twenty, and stocky, with thick blonde hair. His eyes were an electric green. He wore a crudely dyed red shirt — the color blotched along the middle — and a pair of brown pants that had been mended several times. His boots were covered with mud, and his clothing looked as if it had dried damp.

  His hands were tied.

  "Luke, isn't it?" Nicholas said to the third man.

  He nodded, but wouldn't meet Nicholas's gaze.

  Luke had been part of a military troop that had been captured by the Fey over five years before. His father had bargained for Luke's life, offering to remain in Shadowlands in exchange for Luke's freedom. Luke got his freedom, and the opportunity to see his father once a year, but the Fey had done something to him. Something odd.

  When touched with holy water, Luke glowed green.

  Nicholas had seen him after the return, and had asked Lord Stowe to remain in contact with the boy. Luke
had once visited Jewel to get his father's freedom. She had left the meeting cursing her own people under her breath. When Nicholas asked her about it, she had snapped at him, claiming there was nothing she could do. Then or ever.

  Nicholas had not seen Luke since.

  "The boy had asked that we tie him up before we brought him here," Lord Stowe said. "But he wouldn't talk with anyone except you."

  "Then how do you know this story is worth my time this early in the morning?" Nicholas said.

  Lord Stowe stared at Nicholas for a moment, as if trying to get used to the new, harsher version. "Luke arrived at my home a few hours ago, soaking wet and carrying a knife. He said he had just come from the Tabernacle. He smells of holy water."

  Nicholas set his tea mug down. He stood so that he was of an height with Luke. "You're not glowing."

  "It fades, Sire," Luke said. He still didn't look up.

  "What's so urgent that you disturb me before breakfast?"

  Luke lowered his head so that his shaggy blond hair covered his eyes. "I tried to kill the Rocaan."

  Stowe took a step away from the boy. The chamberlain put his hand on the hilt of the sword.

  "Did you know this?" Nicholas asked Stowe.

  "Only that he said he had come from the Tabernacle and it had to do with Matthias. And that he had to see you. Now."

  "Do you want me to lock you up?" Nicholas asked. "Lord Stowe could have done that just as easily."

  Besides, Nicholas wasn't certain he wanted to. The boy had taken the action Nicholas had wanted to take.

  "I don't know if that would do any good." Luke brought his head up, shaking the hair out of his face. Nicholas finally recognized the look in those green eyes. It was fear.

  "Tell me then," he said.

  Luke's face had broadened in the years since Nicholas had seen him last, yet he still looked young. The innocence was gone from his eyes, and so was the hope.

  Luke had once had hope that his father would get out of Shadowlands, and that all would change.

  Once they had all had hope.

  "I was on the farm yesterday when I learned about the Queen. I am so sorry, Sire. I — She — well, she got me free from Shadowlands. She's the one who made the agreement to get me out."

  Nicholas nodded. He had known that much. He had also known that the boy had a crush on Jewel so severe that it scared Nicholas. After Luke's single meeting with Jewel, which Nicholas saw the end of, he didn't ever want the boy near his wife again.

  "And I felt real bad. I was doing my chores, though, so I could think through it. Mourn her in my own way. I was wondering if that meant that my dad would go free now or if he would still be there forever, and then I heard a voice. It was soft and I can't remember what it said."

  "Did you see where it came from?" Stowe asked.

  Luke shook his head. "Then it's night and dark and I wake up and I'm glowing green. I'm standing over a man's bed and I'm holding a knife like I'm about to stab him. He's running around the bed, and I follow because I don't know where I am. I can see him in the green light, and he's really tall, and then he opens the door and I recognize the Rocaan."

  Nicholas's hands were cold. He wished he were still holding his tea mug. He clasped his hands behind him as Stowe had done. "And you don't know how you got there?"

  "No," Luke said. "I lost a whole day."

  "How did you get out?" Stowe asked.

  "I ran to the other doors. They led to a balcony. A rope was tied to the railing and I scaled down it. As I did, the green faded. I ran across the courtyard and jumped the wall, and didn't stop until I got to your house." Half a sob broke out of Luke. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what happened."

  Nicholas did. Or thought he did. And he didn't like it. "I want to get the sequence straight," he said. "You heard a voice, and then you remember nothing until Matt— the Rocaan threw holy water on you."

  Luke nodded. "That's right, Sire. I was already glowing." He glanced at Lord Stowe. "I can't go into the churches any more. The Danites are afraid of me. I don't do the Sacraments because I glow."

  Stowe's gaze met Nicholas's. Nicholas no longer cared that he had been interrupted. He called to the chamberlain. "Get my holy water."

  "Yes, Highness." The chamberlain tapped the sword hilt as if reluctant to leave it, then went into Nicholas's bedroom. He emerged carrying a vial.

  "I want you to pour it on Luke."

  The chamberlain nodded. Luke cringed, bringing his shoulders up and his head down, his hair again hanging over his face.

  "Does it hurt you to glow, Luke?" Nicholas asked.

  "No," Luke whispered.

  Nicholas moved his head slightly, indicating that the chamberlain should pour the water. The chamberlain uncorked the bottle and poured the contents onto Luke's back. Luke didn't move. The water flowed over him as if he wore a green shell. Slowly it absorbed into the shell and onto his clothing.

  A slightly bitter smell mingled with the woodsmoke.

  "Do you feel any different?" Nicholas asked.

  Luke stood up and wiped his face with the side of his arms. The movement was awkward --sticking his hands into the air --but Stowe moved between Luke and Nicholas just the same.

  Nicholas touched Stowe's arm. He appreciated the gesture, but he doubted it was necessary.

  Luke frowned. "I feel just the same."

  "You can untie him," Nicholas said to Stowe.

  "No!" Luke said. "You don't know what I'll do."

  "Actually," Nicholas said. "I do. I'm safe around you. It's Matthias — the Rocaan — who has to worry."

  All three other men looked at Nicholas in surprise. "How do you know, Sire?" Stowe asked.

  Nicholas smiled. "Do you remember bringing Luke to me in the first place?"

  Stowe nodded. "We didn't know why he glowed."

  "And now we do," Nicholas said. "They put a spell of some kind on you, and they haven't used it until now. The Fey tried to get you to kill Matthias for them."

  "Me?" Luke's skin went white. "I've never killed anybody in my whole life. Why would they try that with me?"

  "Because they could. Because someone had the opportunity." Nicholas looked at Stowe. "I have to move quicker than I thought. I will need to set up a meeting with the Shaman today. I'm going to need to send someone to Shadowlands for her."

  "I can go," Luke said. "Maybe I should go. They can't do anything more to me."

  "They might be able to," Nicholas said. "And besides, I can't really trust you. I don't know what will happen there. I will send someone else."

  The chamberlain untied Luke's hands.

  "What are we going to do with him?" Stowe asked.

  "We're going to have to lock you up somewhere," Nicholas said, "Although I wish we didn't have to. I see no reason to put him in a cell. Is there somewhere in your home that he would be safe, milord?"

  "I have a section that is both comfortable and safe." Stowe frowned a little. Nicholas had been to the section. It had once been a small keep hundreds of years before. Stowe's grandfather had turned it into servant's quarters, but the servants hadn't liked it. The lack of windows bothered them. "I'll put him there."

  "I don't care about comfortable," Luke said. "Please make certain it's safe. I don't want to kill anyone. I've never harmed anyone in my life. I couldn't face it if I did."

  "If you did," Stowe said softly, "it wouldn't be your doing. It would be the Fey's."

  "No." Luke's voice held a plaintive note. "It would be my hands. My doing. If I stayed with my father, none of this would have happened."

  "We don't know that," Nicholas said. "We don't know how things would be right now."

  Maybe things would have gone so different that Jewel would still be alive. A longing rose in Nicholas's chest, a longing so deep it hurt. He turned away from them, went to his table, and picked up his mug. The tea was cold.

  "I will see the Fey Shaman," Nicholas said. "I will see if she can help you."

  "Jewel said no one could.
The spells were too deep."

  "Maybe," Nicholas said. "I'm beginning to learn that there were some things Jewel didn't know."

  Like Arianna. He had no idea what would have happened to that child if Jewel had birthed her normally, without Fey present. The Islander healers wouldn't have known what to do.

  "If we're done, Highness," Stowe said, "I'll take Luke to my place."