Read Fey 02 - Changeling Online
Authors: Kristine Kathryn Rusch
From that point on, he had tried to talk to Nicholas, but Nicholas would hear nothing of it.
Other families had problem children, he would say.
Matthias would point out that those families were often in Godless areas, like the Marshes or the Snow Mountains, but Nicholas would point to the few who had made their way to Jahn.
When the new pregnancy happened, Matthias became desperate.
He did not want Jewel to solidify the marriage.
Nor did he want another half-formed child that close to the Roca's throne.
Nicholas did not believe, and because he did not believe, he did not understand that he was polluting the Roca's blood with that of the Soldiers of the Enemy.
Tiny figures crossed the Jahn bridge.
Matthias twisted on the cushion so that he could see better.
No horses.
No one from the palace.
Yet.
Matthias was accused of not believing — and he had told the 50th Rocaan that he hadn't believed — but what he had meant by that was that he didn't believe in the miracles.
He still felt that if he studied enough, he would learn the secret behind the Absorption.
Perhaps it was a simple trick designed to scare the Soldiers of the Enemy.
He felt that the Rocaanists honored a man.
A great man to be sure, but a man just the same.
That the Roca had lived and influenced life on Blue Isle, Matthias had no doubt.
That the Roca had powers from God, Matthias did doubt.
Still, the systems established after the Roca's death had served the Isle for generations.
And one of those systems including passing the Roca's blood through the King's line, unbroken, from the days of the Roca's sons.
Nicholas had polluted that blood.
The pollution produced an abomination like Sebastian.
For the sake of the Isle, for the sake of Rocaanism, for the sake of Nicholas himself, Matthias had to stop that.
He had thought a simple test would have been enough.
The cloth had not been dipped in holy water.
It had been stored with holy water.
That way, if God had intended the water to touch Jewel, it would have.
God prevented the abominations from continuing, not Matthias.
Matthias had simply been God's instrument.
If that is the case, Matthias, why can't you sleep?
He sat up and glanced around the small room.
The door was still closed.
He was alone.
He had come here to hear the 50th Rocaan's voice, but not with words from his conscience, speaking inside his head.
Matthias had not been able to sleep the night of the Invasion either.
Whenever he closed his eyes, he had seen Fey melting, grasping at their featureless faces, suffocating before him.
It had taken him weeks to get beyond that.
And he still saw the face of their leader, asking
What have you done?
in accented Nye, as Matthias poured holy water on his face.
Matthias shuddered.
Even when faced with an Enemy seeking to destroy everything a man held dear, that man still had twinges of conscience.
Conscience that spoke with the voice of a former friend and mentor.
Matthias sighed.
He had told the Rocaan it was wrong to appoint him to take his place.
But the Rocaan hadn't listened.
—
You are my choice, Matthias.
A Rocaan needs strength and a certain love of knowledge.
You have both of those.
—
I would want the church to be led by someone who believes
.
—
Why? You don't believe yourself.
What should it matter to you?
—
I have always thought that my failure to believe was my failure.
Having a Rocaan who believes, being surrounded by those who believe, reinforces that feeling.
But if the Rocaan doesn't believe either, that makes Rocaanism a hollow shell.
An institution with no heart, a hypocritical place that pretends to provide comfort and answers and in truth can provide nothing
.
—
There have been disbelieving Rocaans in the past
.
—
Yes, and one was assassinated, and another nearly brought the church down with him.
I don't want to be that kind of man, Holy Sir.
I can't be
.
—
You won't be
.
The Rocaan had been so certain that day.
Yet that certainty had never made its way to Matthias.
The Rocaan had said, just before he died, that he hadn't heard the still small voice in years.
He believed it hadn't spoken in generations, leaving the Rocaans to discover truth on their own.
He had said he thought such a discovery the only way to continue faith.
Matthias had discovered truth.
Nicholas simply hadn't wanted to hear it.
He would be grateful, though, one day, when his real son and heir, born of Nicholas and an appropriate Island woman, would be born.
A knock on the door sounded close in the small room.
Matthias stood, his knees almost buckling beneath him.
He had been sitting a long time.
The knock sounded again, and then the door opened.
Elder Reece leaned in.
Reece was thin to the point of gauntness.
He was also small, and preferred his Danite's robe to his Elder's robe.
Matthias had to threaten him with a special decree to get Reece to wear the proper robe during the day.
Reece was wearing his Elder's robe now.
The sash was belted loosely, making the robe hang off him like a sack.
He still went barefoot within the Tabernacle, and his feet were filthy.
"Forgive me, Holy Sir," he said, "but the Elders have been looking for you everywhere."
"This is a worship room," Matthias said.
He was glad they had sent Reece. Reece was easy to manipulate.
Reece bobbed his head, but did not let go of the door.
"I know, Holy Sir, but we have been looking for you since dawn.
I-I-I thought one last try —"
"I will appear when I am ready," Matthias said.
He wasn't ready yet.
He was still unsettled by the suddenness of Jewel's reaction to the holy water.
And by Nicholas's anger.
In all of the history of the Tabernacle, there had never been a split with the palace.
"Forgive me, Holy Sir, but Porciluna, he said …" Reece paused and bobbed again.
The light from the window fell on his sallow features, and they were drawn with fear.
"Yes?" Matthias said.
They had sent the timid one because he would deliver the message.
Sometimes in his absorption in Tabernacle matters great and small, he forgot that none of the Elders approved of his appointment to Rocaan.
And why would they?
They had been in the running for the position as well.
"Porciluna said that they would start without you."
Reece ducked his head as if he expected to get hit.
"Forgive me, Holy Sir."
"Start what?" Matthias said.
"The Elders' evaluation.
They — Porciluna — ah — they all wonder — forgive me, Holy Sir, but they wonder if you've gone crazy."
"Crazy?" Matthias asked.
"And on what do they base this idea?"
"The Queen's death, Holy Sir.
One of the Officiates says you planned it."
"Really?"
Matthias felt cold.
He should have expected this.
A distant part of his mind wondered why he had not.
"You were present, Reece.
Do you think I acted like a crazed man?"
"You — ah, please, Holy Sir.
I only deliver the message."
"Do you?"
Reece let go of the door and looked down at his hands.
"Holy Sir, you did not let the Fey leader out with his daughter.
You tried to prevent his leaving."
"And that's a sign of craziness?"
"It — seemed odd, Holy Sir."
Matthias took a deep breath.
He had expected trouble from the palace, but not from the Tabernacle.
None from the Tabernacle at all.
"Tell them I'll be at the meeting shortly."
Reece did not move.
"Tell them," Matthias said.
"Forgive me, Holy Sir," Reece said.
"They've been waiting all morning.
They said if I were to find you, I was to take you there."
Like a prisoner.
Matthias would not allow himself to be treated like a prisoner.
"I will show up there when I am ready.
I assume they're in the audience room?"
"Yes, Holy Sir."
Again, Reece did not move.
Matthias was getting irritated.
"Reece, I am capable of finding the room on my own."
"Yes, Holy Sir."
Reece stepped out of the room, and pulled the door closed.
Matthias leaned back against the wall.
Its chill seeped through his robe.
Crazy.
An excuse. They were making up an excuse to get rid of him.
They didn't want him to be Rocaan.
No one had, except the 50th Rocaan, and even he did not believe he would die anytime soon on the day he appointed Matthias.
The only power Matthias had was in being Rocaan.
The Rocaan was the Keeper of the Secrets.
Unlike his predecessor, Matthias had not shared even one secret with anyone else.
He also had not appointed Elders to fill the vacancies left when he went into the Rocaan's chair, and when Elder Andre disappeared.
Under canonical law, Elders could only act against the Rocaan when all Elders agreed.
All ten Elders.
He took a deep breath.
He had planned for this moment in some ways.
He had always known they would challenge him.
He just hadn't expected it over the Fey.
For some reason, he thought they were all agreed on the Fey.
Matthias let himself out of the chamber and took the stairs to the main level.
He walked slowly — any appearance of haste might be mistaken for panic
— and made his way to the audience chamber.
The double doors were open, waiting for him.
All the Elders were inside, including Reece.
His slender hands were gesturing as he spoke, apparently telling the others that Matthias would be along soon.
The Audience Room was so large that eight men disappeared in it.
The chairs were pushed against the walls.
The chandelier was lit, but whoever had done so had failed to pull it back to the ceiling.
The carefully crafted glass baubles hung at the height of Matthias's head, and candle wax dripped from one bauble onto the floor.