The Rival (21 page)

"It's not Sebastian's," her father said.  "It belongs to Gift."

She tilted her head.  The room was quiet.  Except for the listening booths, this place was sound-proofed.  The entire palace could be falling around them and they wouldn't know.

"If I considered taking this Gift's place," she said, "would you break the rules?  Would you make me rule after you die?"

He opened his eyes, and studied her.  They were watery and bloodshot.  "Do you know what you'd be facing?"

She shook her head.

"Islanders perceive you as Fey.  You would have to convince them that you hated the Fey.  If you managed that, then you would have to show them you were capable of ruling.  You could never marry because they'd expect your husband to rule in your stead.  And you could never have children, because it's not allowed outside of wedlock."

"So the unbroken line would die."

Her father nodded.  "Unless Gift had children.  Then the rule would have to be passed to them."

"What if I had children without marrying?"

"Anything you did that was unusual you would have to defend, sometimes with troops.  People would accuse you of being Fey, of catering to them, of bringing their demon qualities into Blue Isle."

"They came before I was born," she said.

He nodded.  "But people would blame you for it.  All of it.  You would rule, and you would be the most hated person on Blue Isle.  Everything you did would be unpopular, and your life would be a misery."

Arianna took a deep breath. She let go of her father's arm.  She was lightheaded.  It had been a long time since she had eaten.

Choose wisely
, the Shaman had said.

"I'm hated now, aren't I?" Arianna asked.

"No," her father said.  "Of course not.  The people who know you — "

"I'm not talking about them.  I'm talking about all the people who don't.  The people who see me as Fey.  The ones my brother is supposed to rule.  They hate me."

Her father dropped his gaze.  He nodded.

"You once told me that a ruler doesn't have the luxury of doing the popular thing.  He must do the right thing."

"Ari — "

"Didn't you?"

"Yes."  Her father's head was bowed.

"Would it be right for my Fey brother to rule Blue Isle?"

"I don't know," Her father said.

"Daddy."  Arianna's heart was pounding.  She was frightened of this conversation.  "Would it be right?"

"I haven't met him.  I don't know what he's like."

"He was raised Fey, wasn't he?" Arianna asked.  "He probably has Fey values.  Fey values shouldn't control the Isle."

"We don't know that, honey."

"All these problems you say I'll have, wouldn't he have them even more?  I've seen him, Daddy.  He's really Fey.  He dresses like them, he looks like them.  Once people know, wouldn't they treat him worse than they would treat me?"

"They wouldn't know.  They'd think he was Sebastian."  Her father wasn't looking at her. 

"And what if the Black King comes?  Wouldn't this Fey brother just give the Isle to them?  Would you want that?"

"It's not that simple, Arianna."

She swallowed.  "No, it's not.  But it sounds like you don't want me to take Sebastian's place because it would hurt me, not because it would hurt the Isle."

Her father pushed himself out of the chair.  He went to the empty fireplace and looked in as if a fire were actually burning.  He leaned his head against the stone.

"Daddy?  I'm right, aren't I?"

"No."  His voice sounded strangled.  "It's not your place, Arianna."

"But I'll take your advice.  I'll have children.  I won't marry.  The line will continue."

"Your line would be a bastard line.  Your brother's children have the right to rule.  It's the law, Arianna."

"But we are the law," she said.  "We can change it any time we want."

He raised his head.  A smudge ran along his eyebrows.  "Why do you want this, honey?  It would be divisive at best.  At worst  — " he choked and stopped speaking.  He turned away but not before Arianna saw his eyes fill with tears.

She went up to him and put her hand on his back.  She was almost as tall as he was now.  "I don't want it," she said., and knew that was true.  But what the Shaman said was also true.  Arianna had been born to power and to controversy.  Even if she wanted to walk away, she couldn't.  "But I don't think I can turn my back on it.  We've always known Sebastian couldn't rule.  But as long as you thought he was your child, you planned to have me stand behind him.  Gradually everyone would have known that I made the decisions, but we would have kept up the fiction.  You feel you can't do that now."

"I thought at least he could have children who would rule," her father said.  "Even if he can, they wouldn't be from the Roca's line."

"But mine would."

"Ari — "

"Let me finish," she said.  "If we let my real brother rule, we may as well give the Isle to the Fey, and all that you and my mother worked for, all that you suffered for, would go away."

"We don't know that," her father said.  "We don't know what kind of person your brother is.  He might be like your mother."

"And he might be like her father."

Arianna's words hung between them.  Finally her father shook his head. 

"I'm sorry, Arianna," he said.  "I can't.  Too much rides on this decision.  I need to find out who your brother is first."

"He could fool you."

Her father smiled.  "Not many people can fool me, Arianna, and not when I'm looking for them."

"But Mother's death  — "

"Was my mistake.  I knew who Matthias was.  I knew what he could do."

Arianna swallowed.  Time to let him know what she had been doing.  "The Shaman says the Black King will come."

"You were listening."

She nodded.  She didn't want him to yell at her, so she continued.  "What if he does come?  And what if he manages to assassinate you?  Then who will rule the Isle?  Sebastian?  This Gift?  Or me?"

"He can't kill me, Arianna.  I'm related to him."

"But not by Blood," Arianna said.  "We don't know all the rules.  And Solanda is gone."

Her father ran a hand through his hair.  "You saw that, huh?"

"I went to her room.  Her stuff is gone."

"We hurt her," her father said.  "She gave up a lot for you."

"She tried to kill me this afternoon."

"She tried to save you, to save all of us."

"She lied to us."

"Yes," he said.  "She did." 

Arianna kept her hand on his back.  He had let Solanda go.  He could have stopped her and he didn't.  He was as angry with her as Arianna was.

Arianna swallowed.  "My point is that we have no more resources.  And we can't trust Fey help any more.  The Shaman said she's going, too.  We're on our own.  You can't believe that they'll let you live.  You can't.  Not when they can put one of their own on the throne."

"You're part Fey, Arianna.  It's not 'their own.'  It's yours too."

"I know nothing of them," she said.  "I know this place."

"And not all of that," her father said.  "I kept you too sheltered."

"You haven't answered me," she said.  "What happens if you die?"

He rubbed a hand over his face.   The black smudge came off on his fingers.  "I don't know," he said.

"If you don't know, the entire country is ripe for chaos.  And if you cancel Sebastian's coming of age, people will wonder.  You have no choice, Daddy.  You have to appoint me."

"I have a choice, Ari," he said.  "I just have to figure out what to do in the short term.  I only learned of your real brother today.  I can't make a decision on such short notice."

"I thought you prided yourself on your decisiveness," she said.

"I do.  But I have time to consider in this instance.  I can gain all the facts before I act."

"I hope you're right," she said.

A knock resounded on the door.  Arianna started.  No one ever knocked on the chamber door.

Her father raised his head, wiped his fingers on the chair, and then put his hand on her shoulder.  "Come," he said.

The door opened.  Lord Stowe was already bowing.  He wore old fashioned clothing, his long ceremonial robe tied tightly at the waist.  His hair was pulled back, and as he bowed, he showed his ever-increasing bald spot.  "Forgive me, Sire.  I had heard that your audience was over."

"It is, Stowe," her father said.

"Your guests are here.  They are waiting for the ceremony."

Something flickered and then disappeared in her father's eyes.  He turned to Arianna.  "Go get your brother," he said.  "Sebastian.  Go get him."

"But  — "

"And make certain he is ready for the ceremony."

"But  — "

"And make certain you are too."

She frowned.  She thought her father was going to consider his decision.  It seemed as if he had already made it.

"Arianna," he said, in that tone that brooked no disagreement.

She sighed.  "Yes, Father," she said, and made her way past Lord Stowe. 

The hallway was cool, and the guards were milling around, trying to listen.  She glared at them, then hurried by.  It wasn't until she reached the stairs that she realized she was shaking.

She had just tried to take her brother's rule.  For the kingdom itself.  And she didn't want it.  Her father was right.  She would be hated for the rest of her life, and she would condemn herself to a loveless future.

But she loved Blue Isle as much as her father did, maybe more because she saw it in ways he never could.  And she wasn't Fey.  Even though she had Fey blood and a Fey face, she was pure Islander.

Her real brother wasn't.

Maybe her father was going to let Sebastian rule after all, with Arianna behind him.  Maybe he would order Sebastian not to have children.  Sebastian would listen.  Then Arianna's children would rule.

The solution was convoluted, but it would work.

It simply wouldn't work well.

Then she stopped as another idea hit her.

It was the obvious, most perfect solution.

She turned around and headed back to the audience chamber.

She only hoped her father would think so as well.

TWENTY-TWO

As he sank, the blood leaked out of the wounds on his face.  The blood floated upward, darkening the moonlight waters. 

Matthias was drowning, his energy gone.  The Fey had cut his cheeks, his arms, his shoulders.  He would die, whether he wanted to or not.

You have a great magick, holy man
.

The face of the dead Fey, the one he had murdered fifteen years ago, the friend of Jewel's, stared at him in the black and bloody water. 

You can survive anything.

He shattered the face with his fist.  Blood split off like tears, floating toward the air.  The movement wasn't as hard as he had thought it would be.

But his lungs were empty.  He couldn't swim this wounded.

We believe because you believe. 

You have a great magick, holy man.

He believed he was going to drown.  So he would.  Simple as that.

But he wanted to live.  He needed to live. 

He kicked, feebly at first, but then with more strength.  His legs were uninjured.  His lungs ached but they didn't burn.  How long could a man hold his breath underwater? 

He didn't know.

He kicked again, harder, the power of his legs forcing him toward the surface.  The blood swirled around him, then it congealed and formed a ropy string that he could tug on. 

He was delirious.

He was dying.

The string broke.

No.  He needed it.  The blood came together again, and braided itself, like a rope.  He continued to pull, and kick, and pull.  He still didn't need any air.  Maybe he was already dead.

If so, he would claw his way to the Face of God.  He wouldn't remain in the dark and the cold and the wet forever.

He kicked again, pulled on the string, and then his head broke the surface.  He was still in the Cardidas.  The moon shone silver on the water, except where his blood flowed.  There the river appeared black.

The Fey splashed on the Tabernacle's banks.   The woman stood, knife still in hand. The boy stripped off his clothes.  Their voices carried across the water, but they were speaking Fey, and Matthias couldn't understand them.

He watched the boy toss his pants on the ground.  He worried that they would do something sacrilegious on that side of the banks.  Then the boy checked his boots and climbed up the bridge.

Matthias pushed himself underneath the bridge, keeping his hands underwater so that they didn't splash.  He was breathing shallowly, but the sound echoed under the stone.  Blood ran warm down his face, onto his neck and into the water.

If they caught him again, they would kill him.

He was exhausted and dizzy.  He had to get to shore.  His clothes were heavy and water-logged.  In this state, he was finding it hard to remain afloat.

He couldn't go back underwater again.  He was too afraid of drowning, of tempting the Holy One too many times.  He made small swirling motions with his hands, propelling himself backwards.

The woman stood on the bank, looking up at the bridge.  She was tall and lean, as Jewel had been, as all Fey women seemed to be.  She didn't appear to have the kind of physical power that had held him so tightly and allowed her to stab him. 

But she had.  If he hadn't played dead, she probably would have continued stabbing him.  But he had, and she had shoved him under the water in disgust.

An odd choking sound came from above him, and then vomit streamed past, splashing into the water.  The stench was incredible.  He used the sound to cover his own splashes, pushing away from the vile stuff as quickly as he could. 

So the boy wasn't battle hardened.  Matthias had never heard of a Fey vomiting before. 

But the boy had said Jewel was his mother.  He had a rounder look to his face, and his eyes were pale. 

Nicholas's son?

But Nicholas's son was simple.  This boy obviously was not.