Fey 02 - Changeling

by Rusch, Kristine Kathryn

  When he reached the other side of the river, he glanced down the forked road. To his left was the remains of the Settlement. The buildings were already falling down. The Fey who had moved there hadn't known much about carpentry. They hadn't known much about living like Islanders. Perhaps that was why they conquered, because they couldn't do so many mundane things on their own.

  The shops weren't yet open. Some children played in the cobblestone street, and a dog sniffed at the side of the road. He missed the cats. At least Nicholas had changed that edict. Matthias had come to believe it extreme. God's creatures were God's creatures.

  Except when they were Fey.

  He took the road that wound behind the palace. As he got closer to the palace, the guards moved closer to him. He suspected they weren't protecting him, but protecting Nicholas. Even the guards assigned to him didn't trust him any more.

  He didn't even glance at the palace. Instead he walked to the keep. It was located at the back of the guards' quarters on the other side of the palace gate. The keep itself was isolated from the rest of the city by a row of trees, planted in a square around the building. Guards stood inside the grove, watching the entrances any time there was a prisoner.

  The building was also square and made of whitewashed stone. It had no windows, and the doors were reinforced with iron. Matthias had last been inside as a Danite, when it was his duty to minister to the condemned.

  Decades ago.

  The two guards before the main entrance blocked it as he approached.

  "I would like to see the prisoner," Matthias said.

  The first guard, a stocky man barely twenty, shook his head. "I'm sorry, Holy Sir. We have orders that no one is allowed to see him."

  They all knew who Matthias was talking about, even though he was certain there were other prisoners inside. He wanted to see Burden. They weren't done with their discussion yet. He had to get Burden's words out of his mind.

  "You'll refuse him religious counsel?" Matthias asked.

  "Our orders are from the top," the guard said. "He's not to be bothered."

  "I will see him," Matthias said. "By law, only the King can overrule me. Are your orders from King Nicholas?"

  The young guard glanced at his companion. The other guard shrugged. "The head of the guards told us that no one could enter," he said.

  Monte. He wasn't even a lord, although he was accorded equal status. "Then I may enter," Matthias said.

  The young guard held out his hand, both blocking and supplicating Matthias. "Forgive me, Holy Sir, but we have orders that no holy water may be brought inside the premises."

  An anger surged through Matthias. He hadn't realized his own plans. Revenge had become so ingrained in him that he went after it without a thought.

  But he could go in without the holy water and still clear his mind. A conversation. That was what he had initially told himself he was after. That was what he would pursue.

  He reached into his pockets, pulled out both vials of holy water and handed them to the guard. Then he clasped his hands behind his back. "May I go in?"

  "Forgive me, Holy Sir," the young guard said again. "But we have to make sure."

  A shudder ran through Matthias. They were going to search him. For a moment he didn't know what to do — suffer through the indignity or to order them to desist. Finally he decided to suffer. It suited his mood.

  He held out his arms and looked at the door while the guard patted his sides. The door was made of thick wood. Iron ran along its strips. Unlike most doors in the Tabernacle, this one had no carvings, nothing to make it unusual.

  When the guard finished, Matthias put his arms down. "Take me to the prisoner," he said in the most imperial tone he could manage.

  The guard's face was flushed. He nodded, clearly embarrassed by the position the job had placed him in. The other guard pulled out a large ring of keys and unlocked the main door. The first guard went inside. Matthias's guards started to follow, but he held up his hand.

  "I doubt the Fey will attack me in here, don't you?" he said.

  They stopped. Matthias turned his back on them and followed the first guard through the door.

  The stench made him recoil. The building hadn't been cleaned in a long time. It smelled of urine and fouled clothing. The odor was so strong he could almost touch it.

  Torches hung on the walls, their flame casting a dim light on the narrow hallway. They were an arm's length from each door, casting each door in darkness. The doors all had narrow slits in them — Matthias remembered that from his Danite days — but he could see nothing through them. He recalled this hallway as being noisy, but he heard nothing now, although he suspected the keep had more prisoners than it had ever had. He had not checked on conditions as the old Rocaan occasionally did. A thread of unease worked its way down his back. A man imprisoned in darkness should cry out at any sound, for help if nothing more.

  The guard took him through twisty corridors until Matthias lost track of the way. The corridors got narrower as they got older, and the torches were farther apart. Finally, the guard took a torch off its peg, and carried it the rest of the way. Using his own ring of keys, the guard unlocked the heavy oak door and went inside.

  This room didn't smell as strong as the hallway. Very few prisoners had been kept here. The guard went inside and lit a row of torches with the one he carried. The light revealed a cage at the back of the room. The cage was made of metal bars. Hay stood in one corner, and water in another. Burden leaned against the stone wall, his arms crossed. A spark from one of the torches floated around his head like a mosquito.

  "Ah," Burden said to Matthias in Islander. "Your curiosity bested you."

  The words struck home. Matthias did not respond. He didn't know what he could say without sounding defensive. He turned to the guard and took the torch from the man's hand.

  "Leave us," he said.

  "But, Holy Sir —"

  "Leave us."

  The guard couldn't countermand the Rocaan. Still Matthias felt a moment of compassion for the situation he put the man in. If the Rocaan died, the guard would be executed. If the prisoner died — well, that would depend on Nicholas. And considering how he had been enchanted by the Fey, the guard would probably die in that case as well.

  "I'll have to lock you in," the guard said.

  Matthias nodded. He had done this a hundred times as a Danite. He was prepared.

  "I'll be outside," the guard said.

  He left, pulling the door closed behind him. After a moment, the lock clicked, imprisoning Matthias just as it imprisoned Burden.

  Another spark had found its way into the cell. Matthias frowned at it. If it fell wrong, it would start the hay on fire. Then the spark hit the wall and winked out.

  "Aren't you afraid I'm going to kill you?" Burden asked.

  "If you could do that across this distance, I would have died in the hallway," Matthias said. "You need others to do your killing for you."

  "Like you need poison."

  Matthias shrugged. "It works."

  "Only because you created it."

  This was what he had come for. This revelation — or this lie. "Every Rocaan makes holy water."

  "But until you it had no magic properties."

  "We don't know that. Until you, we had no Fey."

  Burden laughed. The sound was deep and warm, a sound Matthias could like if he gave himself half a chance. He would not give himself half a chance.

  "Still," Burden said, "you had to come to see."

  "I had to see you here, behind bars, to make sure I was safe," Matthias said.

  Burden grinned. It made him look even more devilish. "What's the matter? Don't you believe your god will protect you?"

  "He has so far," Matthias said.

  Burden shook his head. "You've protected yourself."

  "Why are you so determined to convince me that I'm part Fey? Is this another way to 'defeat' me?"

  "No." Burden crossed his arms. The smile lef
t his face. "It's more of a way of explaining, to myself, what happened in that room. Twice now. No one should be able to defeat us."

  "You know, you people always say that, but I have seen no proof," Matthias said. "We have been able to defeat you rather easily."

  "We murdered your Rocaan; we murdered your King, and you think us defeatable?"

  "And we killed the Black King's granddaughter," Matthias said.

  A spark hit him in the face. He brushed at it and moved away from the torches. He had never seen torches spark like this.

  "I thought it was an accident," Burden said.

  "It was no more an accident than you showing up in my room."

  "Killing never used to be the way of your people."

  "We had to learn something from the invaders." Matthias's hands were cold. He wished he hadn't let them search him. He wanted to kill this Fey too. They were evil. All of them. Evil.

  Burden pushed off the wall and came toward the bars. "You want to know how I can tell you have magic?"

  "I don't have magic," Matthias said. "I am just Beloved of God."

  "You're tall," Burden said. "Islanders usually aren't tall. Height seems to go with the magic for reasons we don't understand."

  "The last Rocaan wasn't tall," Matthias said. And he died.

  He died.

  "You cannot be easily killed. Three times we trapped you. Three times you escaped."

  "I have great luck," Matthias said. His mouth was dry.

  "But most importantly, it is the way you look. If a person squints, he can see magic energy flickering off another person. It crackles off you. I am amazed no one else ever noticed. I think it was because no one else was looking."

  "I think you're making all of this up," Matthias said.

  Burden gripped the bars with his long slender fingers. "Should we test it?"

  "We can't test anything in here," Matthias said. "And I am not getting you out of here."

  "Then why did you come?" Burden asked.

  The answer was too complex to admit. He had come to kill Burden. He had come for answers. He had come to see for himself the man who had tried to kill him.

  "I came to discover if anyone else is trying to kill me," Matthias said.

  "In the Fey?" Burden asked.

  Matthias nodded.

  "And why should I tell you that?"

  "Because," Matthias said. "I could kill you where you stand."

  "Your precious poison," Burden said. "Someday we'll learn the antidote, and then you'll know the meaning of Fey wrath."

  "I think we've seen enough Fey wrath to last us a lifetime," Matthias said.

  "We haven't even started yet," Burden said. "Just wait."

  "So someone else will try to kill me," Matthias said.

  Burden grinned. "I think someone named Wind will try. I suspect Rugar might. I think even your own king hates you enough to try."

  "Nicholas had his chance," Matthias said. "We are less —"

  The spark floating past him suddenly became a hand-sized man. The man held a tiny sword and plunged it at Matthias's eye. He ducked, then slapped at the man. The man shrank back into a spark and disappeared.

  "How did you do that?" Matthias asked, approaching Burden.

  "I didn't do anything," Burden said.

  "You lie." Matthias's voice had grown softer. It was a growl.

  The spark came close, but Matthias pushed it away with his hand.

  "See?" Burden said. "Fey can do that. Non-magical beings can't."

  Matthias looked at his hand. It was up, but it wasn't pushing the spark away. An opaque wall had formed in the air, inches from his hand, as if mimicking it.

  "Stop that," Matthias said.

  Burden laughed. "I'm not doing anything."

  "Stop that," Matthias repeated.

  "I can only Charm, not Enchant," Burden said. 'You're doing that."

  "I'm not doing anything." Matthias was shaking. The opaque screen was shaking too. The spark waited outside it, like a bug trying to get in a door.

  "You have a great magic, holy man," Burden said. He shook his head. "Aren't you ashamed of killing the very thing you are? Or is that why you did it?"

  "I'm not like you," Matthias said.

  "You're just like me," Burden said.

  "I'm not." He brought his hand down. The screen went down too and the spark came toward him. Instantly another screen went up before his face. He felt the screen go up before it appeared. He felt it like he would feel his arm lifting a shield.

  The thought infuriated him. He wasn't a demon-spawn. He was a good man. All his life he had worked to be a good man. He was Rocaan. The Holy Sir.

  Beloved of God.

  "I'm not like you," he whispered.

  "That's probably true," Burden said. "Your power is reckless, out of control. You have no idea why you hate as intensely as you do. You hate us because we remind you of yourself."

  "I'm Islander," Matthias said.

  Burden nodded. "We've discovered a couple others like you. It's why you have been able to hold us at bay. That magic of yours."

  "I have no magic!" Matthias shouted. White light shot from his eyes and stabbed into the cage. He felt the light pouring from him, burning out of him, taking his anger with it.

  Burden jumped out of the way, but Matthias turned his head. The light moved with his eyes.

  "Stop it!" Matthias yelled. "You're doing this! Stop it."

  Burden sprinted away from the light. He held up his hands and they sizzled. He screamed.

  Something slammed Matthias in the side of the head, making his ears ring. He blinked and the light stopped. The room smelled of burning flesh. Something was on his ear, pulling his hair, sticking needles in his skull. He brushed it away. The little man tumbled through the air, but turned into a spark before he hit the ground.

  "You did that," Matthias said to Burden.

  Burden's face was gray. His hands were bloody masses of flesh. "I wouldn't hurt myself like this for a demonstration," he said. "Go ahead. Finish me off. With your magic, oh religious one. With your magic."

  The door opened, and the guard hurried inside, sword drawn. "Are you all right, Holy Sir?"

  Matthias shook his head. He was not all right. He turned, grabbed the guard's pouch, and pulled a vial of holy water from it. Then Matthias poured the holy water on his own hand. Then he looked up at Burden. "You lie."

  Burden shook his head. He was staring at his ruined hands. "I don't lie about pain."

  "You promised me, Holy Sir," the guard said. "Please, give me the water."

  Matthias clutched it in his hand and approached the cage. "You're trying to drive me crazy. All this time. You want me dead like the old Rocaan. And if you can't kill me, you'll drive me crazy."

  "Holy Sir, please —"

  The spark circled his face, but his shield went up again. He wouldn't let anyone near him. He took the vial and held it up. "Before the Roca," he said, "the Islanders believed in revenge."

  "You believe in your god, though," Burden said, his voice small.

  "The Roca is not God," Matthias said.

  "Please, Holy Sir," the guard said. He was approaching, his sword out, and pointed at Matthias. "Don't make me defend the Fey."

  "Defend me," Burden said. "I'm not proud."

  A shield went up behind Matthias. The sword clanged against it. "You people believe in revenge," Matthias said. "You tried to take my life twice in revenge for Jewel's."

  "You had no right to take hers," Burden said.

  "But I have a right to take yours." Matthias threw the water at him. Burden screamed and tried to dive out of the way, but the water hit him.

  "Holy Sir!" the guard cried.

  The spark left the shield and hovered over Burden. Burden was screaming, twisting and turning. Mist rose off his body, carrying the stench of burned flesh. He was cursing Matthias in Fey. Then his face collapsed in on itself. He struggled for a few moments more, then stopped moving.

  There
was still a bit of holy water left in the vial. Matthias searched for the spark. It zoomed past him and out the door, so fast that it looked like a streak of light.

  Matthias leaned against the cage, the stench sickening him. The iron was cold against his forehead. He was trembling. This time he had killed. Purposely. No accident here. For revenge.