Fey 02 - Changeling (37 page)

"I do."
 
She spoke without hesitation, as loudly as Matthias had.
 
Let them know that their paltry religion couldn't beat her.
 
Let them remember that she was the Black King's granddaughter.
 
And let them understand that she was now a part of their lives, forever.

Nicholas squeezed her hand.
 
She glanced at him.
 
His gaze, through the curtain of his hair, warmed her.

Matthias turned and took the cloth, balancing it gingerly on the tips of his fingers.
 
He placed it on her head.
 
The cloth seemed warm, and it made her scalp tingle.
 
Her mouth went dry.

Then Matthias took the second crown and held it above her.
 
Her crown was smaller, and contained only diamonds and rubies.
 

"This crown is the symbol of your role as consort.
 
Wear it with the Roca's Blessing."
 
He snarled the words, almost as if they were a curse.
 

Jewel's heart leapt.
 
Her limbs trembled with the same energy she felt in the middle of a battle.
 
He put the crown on her head.

Its weight felt unfamiliar.
 
Nicholas tugged at her hand.
 
She was supposed to stand, but the pearls were digging into her skull.
 
Burning her skull.
 
A fire burned beneath her hair.

The cloth slipped forward and brushed her forehead, sending a shooting pain through her.
 
She screamed just once.
 
"The poison!" she cried to Nicholas in Nye.
 
"He spilled the poison!"

Her hair was melting from her head.
 
She could feel the burning, the change.
 
The smell rose, familiar and horrible.
 
Nicholas let go of her hand.
 
The crown and cloth slid off her head and clattered onto the marble floor.
 
Nicholas pulled the pouch from his robe and poured the remaining water on her.
 
Matthias bent over her, but Nicholas shoved him away.

"You've killed her!" her father screamed, and voices rose in panic behind them.

Nicholas pulled her close, protecting her with his body.

"Someone help her!" her father cried in Fey.
 
"Please help her!"

The burning was intense, but it wasn't leaving her head.
 
She had thought her whole body would melt.
 
She had seen others die this way.
 
Their bodies transformed, changed, almost instantly.

Her father stood over her, pouring more water on her.
 
It smelled of mud.
 
River water.
 
More Fey gathered behind him, handing him pouches.
 
Nicholas's robe was wet.
 
His face was wet.

"Jewel.
 
My god, Jewel, are you all right?"

More water splashed on her face.
 
Nicholas raised a hand to stop it.

"Let them!" Her father pulled Nicholas's arms away.

The burning seared her skull.
 
She didn't want to die.
 
Not this way.
 
"Nicky," she said, reaching for him.
 
He would never survive this.
 
Not without her.

Her fingers touched his cheek.
 
She couldn't hold consciousness.
 
As the blackness took her, she realized that the Vision she had tried so hard to prevent all those years ago had finally come true.
 
The holy poison had touched her.
 
Now she had to rely on others to keep her alive.

NINETEEN

Jewel's hair was melting into a long black river, the pearls sinking into her scalp.
 
The skin on her forehead had puckered, but the puckering stopped when her father poured the water on it.
 
Nicholas cradled her to his chest.
 
He couldn't lose her.
 
Not now.

Her hand fell away from his face, and her eyes rolled into the back of her head.
 

"We need help here!" he shouted, but he wasn't sure what kind of help there would be.

Her father was pouring more Fey water on her.
 
The water kept splashing Nicholas in the face.
 
The drops tasted of mud and copper.
 
Behind him, Sebastian was crying.
 
Deep, heartrending sobs that struck Nicholas as unnatural somehow.

"She's not conscious," he said to Rugar.

"She'll die.
 
Let me have her."

If Rugar took her, Nicholas would never see her again.
 
He couldn't lose her too.

"Let me have her.
 
She'll die without our magic."

"You haven't been able to save any of the others."

"Let him take her," someone shouted in Fey from the balcony.
 
"By the Mysteries.
 
Let him try!"

Rugar bent over and snatched Jewel from Nicholas's arms.
 
The loss of her warmth left him suddenly chilled.
 
Rugar stood and turned, carrying his daughter as if she were as small as Sebastian.

Islanders cringed in their seats, but the Fey were up and running from the Hall.
 
A cat was on the floor, a green tunic pooled around it.
 
It kept pace with Rugar as he ran along the royal red runner.
 
Fey stood in the balcony too.
 
Jewel's friend Burden swung off the wooden sides and leapt to the ground below.
 
He blocked Jewel's body with his own.

Nicholas stood.
 
His robe was sopping wet.
 
It clung to his legs and hampered his movement.
 
He had to follow too.
 
He couldn't leave her with them.
 
After what she had said about her father, Nicholas wasn't certain if the man would help her or kill her for a traitor.

And the baby.

The baby.

The nurse had a stunned look on her face.
 
She was holding Sebastian who had craned his neck around her for a better look at his dying mother.

Nicholas ran down the steps.
 
The crown bounced off his head and fell with a clatter onto the marble floor.
 
No one else followed. The other Fey were ahead of him.
 
Then he heard footsteps behind.

Matthias was coming.
 
His biretta gone, fallen aside, his blonde curls flowing behind him.
 
"Seal the doors!" he cried.
 
"Don't let them take the Queen!"

The Danites grabbed the doors and were pulling them shut.
 
Damn the long aisle.
 
Rugar would never make it.

"Leave the doors open!" Nicholas said.

The Danites glanced at Matthias.
 
King and Rocaan should never be at odds.
 
No one knew who to follow.

"I am the Roca's representative on this world," Nicholas said.
 
"Leave the doors open."

"Close them!" Matthias said.
 
"She must stay here!
 
The Roca withdrew his Blessing."

The doors clanged shut.
 
Rugar stopped just in front of them.
 
Jewel's arms swung free, her head back.
 
She looked fragile in her father's arms.

"Are you going to murder all of us?" Rugar asked.
 
"Or just my daughter?"

"Open those doors," Nicholas said.
 
He finally reached Rugar's side.
 
Five Danites now stood in front of the doors.
 
They all held holy water.
 
It wouldn't hurt Nicholas, but it would kill any Fey, including Jewel.
 
"Open them now."

"The Roca didn't Bless her," Matthias said.

Nicholas turned on his former teacher.
 
The man wasn't recognizable any more.
 
"I didn't do what you wanted, did I, Matthias?" he said.
 
"I didn't set her aside.
 
But she is my wife and carries my child, and by God, the Roca, and the Holy One, if either of them die, I will give you to my friends the Fey here and allow them to slaughter you, inch by painful inch.
 
Now, make your men stand aside."

Matthias had taken a step backward.
 
"You can't do this, Nicholas."

"You are committing murder, holy man," Nicholas said.
 
"But it wouldn't be the first time, would it?"
 
Nicholas whirled.
 
The change hadn't spread on Jewel's face, but he had no idea what the holy water had done to the top of her head.
 

"You —" he said, pointing at the youngest Danite.
 
"The Words Written and Unwritten say that only God may choose who lives and who dies.
 
Murderers are sent to the Snow Mountains to thrive or fail according to God's wishes.
 
Will you defy me and kill my wife?
 
Because by defying me, you are defying God."

The Danite glanced at Matthias, then back to Nicholas.
 
The Fey had gathered around Jewel and Rugar, as if to protect both of them.
 

"I'm sorry, Holy Sir," the Danite said.
 
He put his vial of holy water in the pocket of his robe, then pushed the door open.
 
The Danite next to him did the same.
 
The remaining three Danites stepped aside.

Rugar ran out the door.
 
Nicholas followed.

"Where are you taking her?" he asked.

"To Shadowlands.
 
It's the only place she'll be safe." Rugar said.

"Shadowlands is too far," Burden said.

"We need a Domestic Healer."

"A healer can't help her.
 
Not even a Warder can do that."

"She can't die.
 
She can't!"
   

Nicholas had never heard panic in Rugar's voice before.

"Then let me take her."
 
A female voice spoke behind all of them.
 
Nicholas turned.
 
A Fey woman almost twice his height stood behind him.
 
She had white hair that sprung off her head like weeds.
 
Her face was wizened, her mouth a small oval amidst wrinkles.
 
Only her eyes were bright --sparkling black circles of light in a dying face.

The Shaman.

TWENTY

"We must take her somewhere safe," the Shaman said, "so that the Black Robes do not attack her again."