Fey 02 - Changeling (107 page)

"Be careful what you own," Solanda said.
 
She appeared about to say more when someone knocked on the door.

They all turned.
 
The guards had orders not to interrupt.
 
Either this was important or something had gone wrong.

Nicholas nodded to the nurse.
 
She opened the door.
 
Lord Stowe was behind it.
 
He wore his riding clothes, and they were dust-covered.
 
He looked as if he had ridden a long way.

"May I see you, Highness?" he asked.

A shiver ran down Nicholas's back.
 
He was beginning to dislike seeing Stowe.
 
He had started associating Stowe's presence with bad news.
 
Nicholas excused himself and left the room.

A guard stood beside the door, staring vacantly at a spot somewhere above their heads.
 
Nicholas and Stowe walked a short distance from the guard so that the conversation couldn't be overheard.

"A Danite came to my home a little while ago with some information you need to hear," Stowe said.

"The Fey killed Matthias this time," Nicholas said.
 
He was amazed that the hope he felt carried into his voice.

"No," Stowe said, "he resigned."

Whatever Nicholas had expected, it wasn't that.
 
He frowned at Stowe, then walked toward the gallery.
 
Jewel's portrait stood out even from a great distance away.

"Resigned?" Nicholas asked.

Stowe came up beside him.
 
"Resigned and immediately left the Tabernacle.
 
No one knows where he went."

"And you came to me immediately?"

Stowe shook his head.
 
"They said Matthias resigned after he went to the keep.
 
So I went there.
 
He murdered the Fey."

"The prisoner."

"Yes."

"I told you he murdered Jewel."

"I know, Highness," Stowe said.
 
"I'm sorry."

"I am too," Nicholas said.
 
He gazed at his wife.
 
The portraitist had captured her features but not her aliveness.
 
The painting had a flat, unlifelike quality.
 
He missed her.
 
He missed her with each moment, with each thought, with each glance at their children.
 
She would know what Sebastian's strange behavior meant, and she would find a way to care for Arianna without leaving her in the hands of strangers.

Our boy.
 
Soon Arianna would be their girl.

Not if he could help it.

"Highness?"

Nicholas nodded and turned toward Stowe.
 
"Let's send guards for him.
 
He's ours now."

"It's not that easy, Highness."
 
Stowe spoke slowly as if he had the words memorized.
 
He had had time to think this through.
 
He must have known what Nicholas's reaction would be.

It wouldn't have been that hard to determine.

"I think it's quite straightforward," Nicholas said.
 
"He's no longer Rocaan and he's committed another murder.
 
He needs to be punished like any other citizen."

"Highness," Stowe said, "you can't look vindictive here."

"Can't?" Nicholas raised his eyebrows.
 
"To whom?
 
To the Islanders?
 
That would be a problem, wouldn't it?
 
But what about the Fey?
 
They expect revenge.
 
I'll look weak if I don't take it."

"You don't need to take it," Stowe said.
 
"Matthias made that easy for you.
 
He's gone.
 
That's all they need to know."

Nicholas shook his head.
 
That wasn't all he needed to know.
 
He needed to know that Jewel's murderer would be punished.
 
He needed to know that Matthias would not go on to live a healthy and full life.

"You need to let him go," Stowe said. "As King."

Nicholas would take that under advisement.
 
He clasped his hands behind his back to hide their shaking.
  
"Who's the new Rocaan?"

"That's the problem," Stowe said.
 
"There isn't one."

Nicholas suppressed a sigh.
 
"Then they expect me to lead?"

Stowe shook his head.
 
"The council is meeting now.
 
The Elders will choose a new Rocaan."

"And holy water?" Nicholas asked.
 
He was of half a mind about it.
 
Part of him worried that no one could make it any more and the other part was relieved.
 
His children wouldn't die the same kind of death his wife did.

"Matthias left the Secrets with a Danite."

Nicholas half smiled.
 
Matthias, for all his professed lack of ambition, had certainly had a lot of it.
 
"A Danite."
 
Nicholas chuckled.
 
"At least he kept the Secrets with someone."

"At least," Stowe said.
 
"He listened to you that much."

"Maybe more," Nicholas said.
 
"He knew I wouldn't let him get away with Jewel's murder.
 
This second killing would have been the last straw."

"Sire, one more thing."

Nicholas hated that tone.
 
He knew the one more thing would be bad news.
 
"What?"

"The dead Fey is Burden."

Jewel's friend.
 
The one who ran the Settlement.
 
The one who had kissed Jewel shortly after she died.
 
Burden.
 
Who had sat beside her and guarded her like a lover the day she proposed her truce with the Islanders.
 

Had Matthias known something Nicholas hadn't?

"So Burden led the Fey to assassinate Matthias?"

Stowe nodded.
 

"You hadn't told me that," Nicholas said.

"There is only so much a page can relay.
 
I didn't see you scrambling to the keep to find out more about the incident."

"I didn't care if they killed Matthias or not.
 
I figured if they did, it would make my life easier.
 
I didn't want to know their plans, because then my kingly side might have to fight with my husbandly side.
 
I didn't want that."

"Now you don't have to worry," Stowe said.

"Yes, I do," Nicholas said. "Matthias is trying to kill everyone associated with Jewel.
 
I have her children in that back room.
 
As long as he's alive, I'll worry.
 
I'll worry every moment of every day."

SIXTY-ONE

Gift sat on the porch of the Domicile, his short legs extended into the mist.
 
The Domestics made him wait outside even though he wanted to be with his mother.
 
He had had to run for a Domestic to bring his mother to the Domicile, and then they had had to levitate her.
 
She couldn't walk on her own.

When he told them that his grandfather had done it, the Domestics stopped asking questions.
 
It was as if his mother's injuries had appeared out of the air.
 
Her skin was gray, and she was babbling something about keeping him safe.
 
But he had kept her safe.

As best he could.

If he had known that his grandfather was going to hurt her so badly, he would have helped more.
 
He might even have given his grandfather a peek at Coulter.

Maybe.

He worried that his grandfather had seen too much of his sister.
 
She was so tiny and beautiful.
 
Sometimes Gift went to visit her just to escape the grayness of Shadowlands.
 
She always laughed when she saw him and waved.
 
Even though she was tiny, she recognized him.
 

A tiny wisp of light floated toward him, then grew into his father.
 
He looked frightened.
 

"I couldn't find you anywhere," he said.
 
"Where's your mother?"

"Inside," Gift said.
 

He didn't need to say any more.
 
Everyone knew that when people went unexpectedly into the Domicile they had to go to be healed.

His father shrank to his wisp form and slid in under the door.
 
Gift wished he could do that.
 
He would become very, very small and go inside and see what they were doing to his mother.

One of her wings looked crushed against her back.
 
The other wing had flapped around almost like she couldn't control it.
 
They were both bleeding from the tips.
 
Her hand flopped from her wrist.
 
She had been defending him when it happened.
 
And he didn't have the strength to fight his grandfather.

Yet.

Gift hoped Coulter was safe.
 
If all of this was for nothing, Gift would never be able to forgive himself.
 
Coulter had said they didn't belong, and Coulter had been right.
 
No wonder he wanted to leave Shadowlands.
 
He wanted to be as far from Gift's grandfather as he could be.

Gift wanted to be as far away too.
 
But he wanted to take his parents.
 
He hadn't forgotten his grandfather's anger at the way they had raised Gift.
 
It made him shudder to think that his grandfather might have raised him.
 
His entire life would be different.

It still might be.
 
He wasn't certain what his grandfather would do to him.
 
Nor what would happen to his mother.
 
Gift had never seen her looking so fragile, not even when Coulter accidentally hurt her trying to save Gift.
 
The fact that the Domestics wouldn't let him inside frightened him more than anything.

His father hadn't come right back out.
 
Either they hadn't seen him or something was happening. Gift leaned against a post.
 
His father would tell him when everything was all right.
 
All he had to do was wait until then.

Waiting would take forever.

He wished Coulter were still here.
 
When Coulter had told him through the Link that he was going to leave, Gift had cried out like a baby.
 
Now he wished he had asked questions.
 
He missed Coulter.
 
He was half tempted to see if he could find Coulter through the Link, but he was afraid his grandfather would jump in as he had the last time.
 
That had been wrong.
 
It had felt wrong, and it had led to this.