And he had watched as she died, just as she had predicted he would.
He sighed. He hadn't expected this depth of feeling. Soldiers didn't feel. Soldiers acted.
The corridor was long and seemed to extend forever. Jewel and Nicholas had come from Rugar's right. She had looked toward a flight of stairs when she had yelled at him for not seeing the golem she thought was her child.
After she died, he had seen through that golem's eyes.
The golem lived where his granddaughter lived.
He adjusted his cowl and hurried down the hall where he last spoke to his daughter, the knife clutched in his right hand.
SIXTY-FOUR
Charissa carried two buckets of soapy water. Rags hung out of her uniform, and she had her hair pulled back with one. Clean the corridors. As if she had no home, no family. She made one comment about the King. One comment and she wouldn't get any sleep at all tonight.
Clean the corridors.
All of them.
She cursed the Master of the House under her breath. He had been after her ever since the night before the Coronation, when the King had taken her to the kitchen for a meal. The Master of the House had changed her assignments, taken her off the royal wing, and made her work in the guest areas.
That was bad enough. She rarely saw the King any more, and when she did, he looked haggard. She knew how he felt, losing the King his father. It had left her feeling dislocated and a bit frightened, as it had with the rest of the Isle. But then his wife's death — no matter how much Charissa wanted her out of the way — made things even worse.
And the rumors about the baby girl, well, they gave Charissa shudders.
She would have told the Master of the House that if he had asked, but no. He had ordered her to clean the corridors on the basis of one comment.
One.
And she would scrub until her hands bled.
I think the King is the best looking man in the Kingdom, she had said. Other maids had said the same thing, and in the Master of the House's hearing. She had reminded him of that. But none of them had airs about being Queen, he had countered.
As if she thought she could be Queen.
Really thought it, instead of just dreaming it.
The King hadn't even looked at her at all lately. What with his father's death, running everything, and that horrible child, he didn't have time to sleep, let alone —
She flushed even though she was walking down the hallway alone. Every time she thought of him and that she made herself all flustered.
She set down the bucket, stood and stretched. Her back cracked. She had spent the morning cleaning the fireplaces in the guest suites. The Housekeeper demanded that they keep the spring schedule. Fireplaces all week since many weren't in use. The rest of the fireplaces would be cleaned in a month when the weather got too warm. But no one had used the guest suites in so long that some of the fireplaces Charissa had cleaned looked as if they hadn't been used all winter.
The work had been particularly difficult since the coronation. Once news of the baby got out, half the staff quit. They didn't want to be in the same building as the demon child. Charissa had double the work during the same amount of time. The Master of the House was bringing in new people, but they were slow and their work was not yet up to standard.
She picked up the buckets, and some of the water sloshed on her shoes. The wet seeped through the cloth, leaving little footprints in the corridor. She sighed. It was a good thing she hadn't started yet. She would have been quite angry if she had.
She was starting in the Coronation Hall simply because she liked that wing of the palace. She used any excuse she could find to go there. It reminded her of the night she spent talking to the King. Her second favorite place was the kitchen, and her third the Great Hall. She always thought of him in those places.
She wondered if he thought of her.
No one had been in the wing since the devil child was born, and it showed. Lots of dust, even though the place had been sparkling before. She would start in front of the locked Hall doors and then work her way back toward the kitchen, maybe grab a snack and go onto the Great Hall. By then, maybe the Master of the House would take pity on her and let her get some sleep.
He had done that before.
She rounded the corner to the long corridor that led to the Coronation Hall.
And stopped.
An Aud stood before the double doors as if he were confused. He seemed tall for an Aud, but his robe was unusually long. A chill ran down her back. She had heard strange stories about the Rocaanists these days. The King believed that the Rocaan had murdered his wife, and some of the others believed it too. Some of the cooks thought maybe the Rocaan was going to kill the King and take his place.
Would the Rocaan use an Aud to do it?
That didn't make sense. This afternoon, she had heard that the Rocaan had been forced to leave Jahn. She had also heard that he killed a Fey in the keep, so she didn't know which story to believe.
Now an Aud standing in front of the Coronation Hall.
An Aud that was too tall. Like the Rocaan.
She swallowed and slowly backed up. Was he trying to sneak in as someone else? Get an audience with the King? Kill him? Whatever was happening, she would have to tell someone. It wasn't normal for an Aud to be in the palace, at least not without a few other Auds, a Danite or maybe an Officiate.
Then the Aud reached up, his hand in shadow, and adjusted his cowl, tugging it down even farther over his face.
Fear shot through her rich and fine. She glanced behind her. Footprints. Her own, going into the corridor and out. He would know he was spotted. He would know he had seen her.
She had only one choice.
She hurried back to the spot where she had first seen him. Then she got down on her hands and knees and started scrubbing. It wasn't a logical place to clean, but it got rid of the double and triple sets of footprints. She made sure the buckets were close to him, so that she had to look in his direction each time she wetted a rag.
He hadn't seen her yet. He was looking down the other corridor as if he weren't certain where to go.
She scrubbed so hard that her arm ached. She was leaving little streaks in the floor, streaks she would have to clean later. This was one of the marble floors and she was cleaning it wrong. She hoped he wouldn't know that either.
Now he was coming toward her. His footsteps sounded firm and purposeful on the marble. That disturbed her. Auds always moved quietly.
As he approached, she moved her buckets out of his path. "Forgive me, Devoted Sir," she said, thankful that her voice didn't quiver. "I didn't see you."
He nodded as he passed, his face in shadow. He didn't seem to pay much attention to her. Instead he glanced around as if watching for someone.
Or something.
When he reached the fork in the corridor, he ignored the way to the kitchen. He hurried toward the stairs.
The stairs led to the royal wing.
She tossed her rag into the bucket of water. The splash hit her in the face. She had to go to the King, no matter what the Master of the House would say. She had to. He needed to know.
The Aud wore boots, and the hand she had seen on the cowl hadn't been in shadow.
It had been dark.
And long.
And slim.
Like the hand of a Fey.
SIXTY-FIVE
Sebastian screamed.
Solanda whirled. The nurse was already crouched beside him, holding his shoulders. His hands were over his mouth, his eyes were wide, and he was shaking his head back and forth.
He made the sound again. It wasn't quite a scream. Not really. More like a continuous scraping of rocks together. He backed into the corner and stared at the door as if he were afraid it was going to hit him.
Solanda hurried toward him. He didn't look at her. His eyes were empty, as they always were. That strange person wasn't lurking in them, nor was that startling burst of intellige
nce she sometimes saw.
This was the lump, the golem, the creature made of stone, screaming.
The thought sent a ripple of terror from her stomach to her heart.
Arianna started crying, deep hiccoughing sobs. Solanda couldn't tell if she was crying because of the lump or for another reason. The lump huddled in the corner, trying to making himself as small as he could. He continued to stare at the door as if it terrified him.
Solanda stood. Arianna looked normal. She was waving her fists and sobbing. Solanda picked her up, but it didn't calm her. She was staring at the lump, crying as if she understood why he was screaming.
"Tis bad, tain't it?" the nurse said. She was trying to hold the lump, but he would have none of it. "Tis gone he is. Tis gone."
She thought he had gone crazy. Solanda shook her head. Arianna had gripped the shoulders of her robe so tight that her tiny fists were ripping the fabric.
The hair on the back of Solanda's neck was rising. If she were in her cat form, she would hiss and run away.
"Something's going to happen," she said. Something the lump knew about. Something he could sense. He was a creation of magic, real and not real. If any of them could sense magic about to happen, it would be him.
But why would it terrify him?
His wail continued, a grating screech that hurt to hear.
"Can we stop him?" the nurse asked.
"No," Solanda said. Arianna's tiny body shook, but she didn't Shift. This much emotion and she was staying in her most secure form. She felt it too, whatever it was. If they both felt it, why couldn't Solanda? What was wrong?
"He canna keep cryin like this. Tain't good."
None of this was good. Solanda held Arianna close. Maybe the nurse should take the children somewhere safe. Maybe it was something in the room.
But if it was something magical, the nurse could do nothing. Only Solanda could help.
The problem was she didn't know if the attack was from without or within.
Sebastian was staring at the door. If he were frightened of something in the room, he would be reacting differently.
"Get help," Solanda said.
"Beg pardon?" the nurse asked.
"Get help."
"Tis the boy who needs help, mum, and only ye n me ta do it."
"No," Solanda said. "Get guards and the King and as many people as you can bring here. No holy water though. Holy water might kill the child— the children."
"What's wrong, mum?"
"I don't know," Solanda said, "but I think we're going to find out."
"I canna leave him, mum," the nurse said. "He tain't never been like this. I canna go."
"I'll be with him," Solanda said. If the nurse didn't leave soon, it would be the two of them against whatever was scaring the lump.
"Beg pardon, mum, but ye dinna know how to —"
"It's magic," Solanda said through her teeth. "Whatever has him frightened is magic, and magic he recognizes. Maybe the magic that hurt him a few days ago. You can't help with that. You'll get in the way. But the guards might help. The King might help. Someone might help. But you have to hurry. If you don't hurry, we could all die."
"Die, mum?"
"My people are ruthless," Solanda said. "And these are Jewel's children."
Then she realized who had looked at her through Sebastian's eyes. Rugar. Rugar knew where she was.
He was coming for Arianna.
And he expected Solanda to help him as she had pledged to do.
"Go, now," Solanda said.
The nurse looked helplessly at the lump. Then she kissed his cheek, although that didn't stop his crying. She touched his hair, then went to the door. When she had her hand on the handle, she said, "I'll fight with ye, mum."
"No," Solanda said. "This is something I have to face alone."
The nurse nodded. She opened the door. "Blessed Be, mum. I'll bring help soon as I can."
Solanda only hoped it would be soon enough.
SIXTY-SIX
"No! Tis wrong. Ye gotta let me see him! Please! In the name of the Roca!"
Nicholas looked up from the papers strewn on his desk. He could barely hear the words, but he recognized the voice. A woman's voice. If it weren't for the dialect, he would have thought it Jewel's.
He was alone in the library. A fire burned in the grate although the afternoon was warm, and a stack of books sat on the side of his desk. He had been researching Rocaanism, trying to see if he had any precedent for taking over the Tabernacle himself. He had stationed guards outside the library door, but hadn't allowed any inside.
"Please, sir. Let me in. Tis important what I tell him."
Nicholas pushed his chair back and stood. He could hear the guard's voice, low and calm, apparently unconcerned by the woman's anguish.
He pulled the door open. Two guards blocked it. Charissa stood outside, her hair disheveled, and her dress covered with water.
"Ah, Sire," she said. "I need ta talk ta ye."
Once he had promised her that she could talk with him at any time. He had been young then, and he had thought she was beautiful. She had been the first servant to tell him of the abuses of power that went on in the servants' quarters and, instead of seeing them as tragic but normal, he had promised her that he would help. He hadn't regretted that until Jewel's death. He no longer wanted the distractions.
"Come on in," he said.
"Thank ye," she said, grimacing at the guards as they got out of her way. She lifted her skirts to reveal thick solid ankles and stepped across the threshold as if it were sacred.
Nicholas closed the door behind her. But she didn't sidle up to him as he expected.
"Twas a Fey," she said. "I seen him near the Coronation Hall. Twas dressed as an Aud he was."
"An Aud?" Nicholas was confused. He had expected her to make a pass at him — she had done so before — and then to complain about one of her bosses, not to tell him of an Aud.
"Boots on his feet he had and twas long and skinny. At first, I thought maybe twas the Rocaan, ye know? But then I seen his hand. Twas long and thin like him but twas black. I thought maybe twas a shadow, but after I seen the boots I knew twasn't. He wasn't standing in no light."
She was speaking so fast he was having trouble following her words. "When was this?" he asked.
"A few moments ago. Twoulda been here sooner but them guards —"
"They were only doing their jobs."
"Aye, and meanwhile he's gone."
"He left?"
"No. That's the thing and why I come direct to you. He's not gone. He just went by me."
"What were you doing in the Coronation Hall?" He had sealed it off. He never wanted anyone to enter it again.
"Twasn't," she said. "Twas in the corridor." Then she wrinkled her nose, and he saw the beauty he had remembered. It was so different from Jewel's. Jewel had been all angles and sharpness. This woman was round and voluptuous and soft. Too soft for his tastes.
"Near the Coronation Hall?"
"Aye, Sire," she said.
"And now where is he?"
"I dunno," she said. "Soon as he left, I come to you."
They weren't communicating. He found that so frustrating. "Where did he go? The courtyard?"
"Up the stairs," she said. The urgency that had brought her was in her voice again.
"The stairs?" His heart was pounding very fast. "The stairs near the Coronation Hall?"
"Aye, Sire. I thought mayhap he come for you. Thought twas the Rocaan with a knife, but twas a Fey. And I canna for the life a me unnerstand that."
But he could. He could see it as plain as anything. The Shaman holding his squirming daughter in the air.
I want the child, Rugar had said.
Then what had the Shaman said? Something about stealing Arianna?
He had sent a Fey for Arianna.
Nicholas made a small cry.
His daughter. They were going to take his daughter from him too. They would take her mind, l
ike they had taken Sebastian's.
He yanked open the door. "Get a contingent of guards and bring them to the nursery," he said as he passed the guards.
"Weapons, Sire?" the guard asked.
Fey 02 - Changeling Page 62
