Fey 02 - Changeling (92 page)

Matthias squinted.
 
His face felt heavy and a great weight pressed on his chest.
 
The air seemed thicker than usual.
 
Each breath was an effort.

The Shaman stood in the corner, silent, as if she approved of this match.
 
He didn't know how she could.
 
She knew, like the rest of them, that this was a pollution of the Black King's line.

An odd feeling of dread rose in his stomach.
 
He didn't care about the Black King's line.
 
Such a thought felt like blasphemy, even though he wasn't sure he believed in blasphemy.
 
He grabbed for his filigree sword and didn't find it around his neck.

But he was supposed to perform the ceremony.
 
How could he do that without wearing his robe?
 
He patted his pockets.
 
He was wearing breeches.

Jewel came over to him, spoke softly to him.
 
She had her mother's voice, soft and yet powerful.
 
No wonder Rugar had married her.
 
She had died in childbirth too, just like Jewel.
 
Jewel's brothers had had a different mother, one not nearly the equal of Jewel.

Matthias smiled at her, wishing she would linger longer, but she did not.
 
She was his favorite of the Fey.
 
She was —

— evil.
 
He had to remember that.
 
She had ordered Alexander's death.

He tried to roll over, but couldn't.
 
This dream was haunting him.
  
It was clinging to him, forcing him to think about things he didn't want to consider.

Nicholas looked like a pale, sickly creature as he stood at the railing.
 
His hair streamed behind him, pale like the rest of him.
 
How Jewel could mate such a one was beyond Matthias.
 
The Fey mingled blood with their enemies, but usually after the land was conquered, not before, and never in a diplomatic way.

Rugar knew that, and still he was letting this go forward.
 
He spoke briefly to the Shaman and she turned her back on him.
 
Odd that.
 
The Shaman should always listen to the Leader.

Jewel was smiling.
 
She actually looked as if she wanted to marry this man.

The breeze off the river was cold, yet his face was hot.
 
He almost felt as if he were suffocating.
 
The pressure on his chest had grown.
 
It hurt.
 
He brushed at it, startled again by the missing sword.
 

Jewel had asked that no one bring Rocaanist trappings on the barge.
 
The Islanders and Fey had built the barge together so that no one would trick the other.

It had worked.
 
No one had tricked the other.
 
They were stuck on the river where if one side started a slaughter, the other side would retaliate.
 
Jewel had thought of that too.

She had been brilliant.

A shame she had to die.

A pox on the man who killed her.

…!

He choked, tried to wake, but couldn't.
 
He had been right in killing her.
 
He tried to rub his eyes, but something was in his way.
 
The weight on his chest was crushing.
 
He heard voices, speaking in Fey.
 
They sounded close.
 
Wood snapped and fell in the fire at the foot of his bed.
 
He wanted to wake up.
 
He had to wake up.

This nightmare was killing him.

Jewel took his hand.
 
"You ruined any chances for your people," she said.
 
"We'll have to kill you all now."

He wanted to remind her about holy water.
 
No matter what kind of threats her people made, they were still vulnerable to holy water.
 
But he couldn't say that.
 
His mouth felt like someone else's.

"The Islanders deserve to die," he said, and shuddered.
 

No.

He pushed against the weight on his chest.
 
The pain grew.

The Islanders deserve to die.

The Islanders

Deserve

Deserve?

No.

The words were Fey.
 
He was thinking in Fey.
 
He couldn't be, though.
 
He didn't know the language.

The weight on his chest …

He couldn't open his eyes …

The dream …

The dream …

The Fey will kill you.
 
The question is when.

By this time tomorrow you will probably be dead.

I've warned you.

… warned …

… you …

Matthias tried to speak but something was blocking his mouth.
 
Nicholas.
 
Nicholas, make them stop.
 
Nicholas.

The dream was just a dream.
 
Just a dream.
 
He had awakened himself from bad dreams before.
 
All he had to do was open his eyes.

Open.

The weight on his chest.

Darkness over his eyes.

He reached up, feeling awake, and touched a leg that was not his own.
 
He screamed, but the sound was muffled.

Jewel was frowning at him.

You're dead
, he tried to say, but couldn't.
 
She seemed to hear him.
 
She shrugged.

I'll never die as long as my children live.

Your son is not alive,
Matthias thought at her.
 
He has no brain.

You watch out for my son,
she said with a smile.
 
He will destroy you.

Matthias had forgotten something.
 
The weight on his chest.
 
Was he dying?
 
It felt as if he were dreaming, not dying.
 

Dreaming.

He had dreamed of a green glow the night before.

And the glow had nearly killed him.

Wake up! Wake up!
he thought, but he couldn't.

He couldn't.

Which meant he was awake.

His mouth was dry.
 
Fingers dug into his mind, little sharp points of contact.
 
A face floated in his brain, a Fey face he had never seen before.

A Fey face.

A leg where his ribs should be.

Weight on his chest.

He slid his hand along the blanket, slowly, slowly, so the movement felt like part of the dream.
 
Jewel was standing beside the other Fey, staring at him.
 

You can't wake up,
she said.
 
I'll never let you wake up.

If I don't wake up, how can I fight your son?
Matthias asked.

She frowned at that, as if something about it puzzled her.

His fingers brushed the bedside table. Almost there.
 

My son is strong,
she said.

Your son has no mind,
Matthias said.

My son shares his mind,
she said.
 
My father hid him from me.

Matthias's fingers touched cool glass.
 
The rounded edges of the vial felt reassuring against his skin.
 

His heart was pounding hard.
  
He couldn't reach over and uncap the vial.
 
He couldn't pull the cork.
 
He would have to —

(smash it)

He tightened his grip around the vial.
 
He would only get one chance at this.

Your father?
he asked Jewel, hoping to distract her, or whatever had created her.
 
Your father is meddling in everything.

Then he swung his arm as hard as he could toward his chest.
 
His hand collided with the leg and he cried out as glass smashed in his palm.
 
A thousand shards cut him, and his blood mingled with the holy water.

A scream that was not his own filled the room.
 
The weight flew off his chest and the pressure slipped out of his brain.
 
Jewel disappeared.
 
Suddenly the darkness was no longer complete.
 
He took a real breath.
 
The air smelled of burning flesh.

"Help!" he shouted as loud as he could.

Something thrashed on the bed beside him.
 
The light from the fireplace revealed a Fey form melting from the leg up, the Fey screaming.

Other Fey had rushed into the room.
 
Matthias recognized a face.
 
Burden.
 
The one who tried the Settlement.
 
Matthias grabbed more vials of holy water from the beside table, uncorked them and threw them at the Fey.

The bottles shattered as they hit the floor.
 
The Fey woman nearest him yelled and tried to run out the door.
 
The water must have splashed on her, though, because her legs collapsed beneath her.
 
The man beside her fell as well, and the stench of burning grew in the room.
 
Matthias stood on the bed and kicked off the squirming flesh beside him.
 
His hand hurt and his fingers didn't close well.
 
He had damaged it when he smashed the vial.

He uncorked another vial and threw it, then another, and another.
 
The Fey were running for the doors.
 
Matthias got off the bed and ran after them throwing water at them.
 
Three more fell and began melting into pools of flesh.

Burden reached the door of the suite, pulled it open and dashed into the hall.
 
A Fey slipped and Matthias poured water on her.
 
Some of the water splashed on a nearby Fey and he screamed.

Then a flash of light hit Matthias in the face.
 
He brought up a hand to protect his eyes as a spark flew away from him.
 
The air was red and green for a moment.
 
He flailed water all around him in case they tried to attack again, but there was nothing except the screams of the dying around him.