The Rival (31 page)

Her hair was down, and she wore breeches and a shirt with full sleeves.  She looked more like her mother than she ever had.

"Forgive us for being late," she said.  "Sebastian had trouble finding me."

"We missed you at the banquet, Princess," Lord Enford said, and he sounded sincere.

"I felt as if I were there in spirit," Arianna said, and flashed him a smile.  She pulled Sebastian in and pulled the door closed.  "My brother tells me he's exhausted and he would like to listen.  Is that all right with you, Daddy?"

Nicholas nodded.  Arianna had thought of everything.  On one level he was pleased.  On another he found he didn't like her talent for deception. 

Lord Canter smiled at Sebastian.  "It is good to see you, Your Highness.  You seem quite yourself again."

Arianna frowned.  She led Sebastian toward the back of the room, and Lord Zela, who had always been friendly to her.  "Was he different earlier?" she asked.

"More animated, Highness, and almost personable."

Sebastian opened his mouth, but Arianna put a long slender finger over it.  "You've never seen my brother, then, when he's feeling refreshed?"

Canter shrugged.  "Apparently not," he said.

"I'm amazed my father never said anything." Arianna glanced at Nicholas with a look of reproach.  He worked to keep the look of surprise off his face.  "We discovered a long time ago that my brother isn't slow.  His body just acts a little differently than the rest of ours.  When he's tired, he moves slowly and talks even slower.  That led people to believe he wasn't very bright.  But he has had periods all his life when he can be as sharp as the rest of us."  She smiled, looking beautiful and innocent.  "My father certainly wouldn't trust the future of this country to someone who is dimwitted."

"Certainly not," Canter said a beat too quickly.

"I'm glad you could make it," Nicholas said, cutting the discussion off.  He turned away from his daughter, from her bright face and glittering eyes, and toward the group.  "We are facing a number of problems here.  But we are more prepared than we were for the first invasion.  Our people at least know how to defend themselves.  My worry is that they'll rely too heavily on holy water."

"It should work," Zela said.

"And if it doesn't, we'll have another slaughter.  We need to get word to all the provinces that the holy water may not work.  We need to make sure people have arms, swords, knives, and other ways of defending themselves.  Each of you need to send word to your own sections."

The lords nodded.  Canter took his seat. 

Nicholas clasped his hands under the table. Finally he had control of the meeting.  "Secondly, our guards are a trained fighting force. They should be able to protect the palace.  We need to call our militia, and make certain that Jahn is protected as well.  The word is that the Fey are in the south.  We'll need to concentrate on the southern entrance to the city."

"Beg pardon, Sire, but we're discussing Fey here.  They may be in the south, but they could attack from anywhere."  Lord Enford spoke softly as if he didn't want to contradict Nicholas.

"I'm aware of that, Enford," Nicholas said.  "We will have to scatter troops throughout the city and the countryside.  Until we actually have a sighting, we can take no direct action here."

"Sire, I have another concern," Miller said.  "What if this is a hoax put on by the local Fey?"

"We would know," Arianna said.

"Ari," Nicholas said without looking at her, "You are here on my good graces. Please allow the meeting to go forward without your comments."

She sighed and said nothing else.  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sebastian take her hand.

"That is a possibility," Nicholas said, "but it would gain them nothing."

"On the contrary," Miller said, "it would give them an advantage."

Nicholas frowned.  "I see no advantage in this."

"If, as the messenger said, the Fey found a way around holy water, then this gives the Fey their might back.  They know we're afraid of the Black King.  They know that we're no longer afraid of them.  If the Black King supposedly arrived, the Fey would be formidable again."

"Nice hypothesis," Nicholas said, "but we cannot afford to believe it, any more than we can afford to believe that the mountains to the south are impenetrable.  We have seen a thousand impossible things since the Fey arrived.  One more should not strain our credulity."

A knock sounded on the door.  Then, in a muffled voice, a guard announced Lord Stowe's arrival.

"Send him in," Nicholas said.  He stood as Stowe entered.  Stowe looked windblown from his ride to the Tabernacle and back.  "The Rocaan?" Nicholas asked.

"He will not come," Stowe said.  "Nor will he help in any way.  He believes this a ploy from the palace to discredit him."

"What?" Zela asked.  "How did he come to that?"

"It seems there were some attacks on the kirks in the Marshes," Stowe said.  "The Danites used holy water but it had no effect.  The Rocaan believes it was switched for real water.  He uses as his proof a murder that occurred on the Jahn bridge tonight."

"A murder?" Egan breathed the word as if it were obscene.

"A Fey was killed with holy water on the Jahn Bridge.  It appears to have happened during the banquet, maybe even during the time we were listening to that Wisp.  The Rocaan believes that shows holy water still works."

"He will not even make more holy water?"  Enford asked.

"He didn't say," Stowe said.  "But I doubt it.  This is something you need to resolve with him personally, Your Highness."

Nicholas ran a hand over his face.  One more thing.  He really hadn't needed one more thing on this night.  "Round up all the holy water you can.  Distribute it throughout the city and to the countryside.  I will not allow any in the palace or near my children.  I will make an appointment with the Rocaan tomorrow.  In the Tabernacle.  This has gone on long enough."

"Perhaps, Sire, if you had held the proper ceremonies  — " Canter started.

Nicholas removed his hand from his face and glared at Canter.  Canter stopped.

"I understand the desire to blame me for all the changes on Blue Isle," Nicholas said tightly.  "Not everything I have done has been popular.  But nothing changes the fact that I rule this Isle and will continue to do so.  The Rocaan doesn't.  I do.  I will meet with him, but I doubt we will need him."

"You believe that messenger, don't you?" Enford asked.

Nicholas nodded.  "And I believe that unless we find a way to stand our ground, we will be a part of the Fey Empire, whether we like it or not."

THIRTY-THREE

The kitchen was warm.  Gift rummaged through drawers until he found several candles and a tinderbox.  He lit them.  The room seemed small and confining, not at all how it had seemed when Gift first saw it, through Coulter's eyes.

Leen stood in the doorway, arms crossed.  The sky was growing lighter on the eastern horizon.  "I don't like it here," she said.

"You don't have to," Gift said.

"We need Cover."

He didn't answer that.  He couldn't bring Cover back, even if he wanted to.  And the last thing he wanted to think about was her death.

He did need a moment to get his bearings, though.  He hadn't been able to reach Coulter through their Link all day.  The end of the Link was blocked  —  Coulter's end  —  and that had never happened before.  It was almost as if Coulter hadn't wanted to hear from him.

"Is that him?" Leen asked.  She held the open door in one hand was leaning into the gray dawn.  Gift stood and peered over her shoulder.  He stifled a gasp. 

He hadn't seen Coulter in person in a long, long time, not since they were little boys.  That was the Coulter he remembered: the boy who was too small for his age, the boy who was round in a world of angles, the boy whose hair was an unnatural yellow.  This Coulter was the Coulter of Gift's childhood Vision, the Coulter who rode with him down the Cardidas, the Coulter whose eyes sparkled when they contemplated the future.

A shiver ran through Gift.

"Gift?" Leen asked.

"That's him," Gift said. 

Then Adrian came out of the fields as well.  Adrian had been a shock when Gift saw him earlier.  Gift remembered a taller man, an older man, and one who spoke oddly.  Either Adrian's mastery of Fey had improved or, through Coulter, Gift had gotten used to him.

"Let me talk to him," Gift said. 

Leen moved away from the door. She went to the wooden counters, and leaned on them, arms loose and near her sword.  She would defend him to the last, he knew that, and he relied on it.  The welcome he had expected was colder than he ever imagined it would be.

Yet when Coulter saw Gift at the door, he grinned, then ran forward, arms extended.  He grabbed Gift, and hugged him, as he would a long-lost brother.

"You should have told me you were venturing into the real world," Coulter said.  Even his voice was deeper, a man's voice, not a boy's.

"I tried," Gift said.

"You told me about the Vision, not that you'd be here."

"Things changed."  Gift pulled out of the hug.  "You blocked the Link."

Coulter's expression grew momentarily flat.  Then he glanced at Adrian.  Adrian stood a few feet back.  He shrugged one shoulder, as if he had no part of this discussion.

"Something's happening to the south," Coulter said.  "I've been trying to concentrate on it.  I shut out all distractions."

That obviously had an element of truth, but that wasn't all.  Gift could feel the nuances through their bond.  "So I'm a distraction now?"

"No," Coulter said bluntly.  "Now you're a diversion.  Let's hope that the paths lead to the same place."

Now the bond felt clear, the Link felt open.  Coulter put his arm around Gift and led him outside.  Leen pulled her sword.  "Wait!" she said.

"It's all right," Gift said.

"Not if something happens," Leen said.

"Nothing can happen," Coulter said.  "We're Bound."

She glanced at Gift for confirmation.  He nodded.  Then he went with Coulter into the fields, leaving Leen and Adrian behind.

The sun was rising, touching the corn with gold.  The morning air had a damp coolness that felt good against Gift's skin.  That kitchen had been stifling.

Flocks of black birds of a type he had never seen flew overhead.  Their caws resounded in the stillness.  The dew on the grass glossed over the footprints left earlier by Adrian, Leen and Gift.

"Why am I a diversion?" Gift asked.

Coulter looked at him.  Coulter's face was still the same.  His eyes were blue and clear, his features square and solid.  He was the same boy, only in a larger body.  He was, oddly, as tall as Gift.

"Let me show you," he said, and took Gift's hand.  Then Coulter slid along their Link.

The impressions that came to Gift were fast and furious, too fast for him to process.  Most weren't visual; he only saw the trails in the night sky.  Most were feelings, changes, oddities in the way the earth felt, and a strange sense of surprise coming from the ground in the south.

Then, as quickly as they began, they ended.  It would take Gift some time to process them.

Now, let me, Gift said through the Link, and he showed Coulter what happened at the palace.  As he reviewed the images from Arianna's attack, Coulter winced and ducked. 

When it was over, Coulter slid back down the Link and let go of Gift's hand.  "Why is the stone boy so important?"

"We're Linked," Gift said.  "Like you and me."

"You can't Link to a bit of stone."

"I didn't," Gift said.  "He has a personality.  It has just taken him longer to develop it.  You and he are the only brothers I have, Coulter.  And he can't defend himself."

Coulter sighed.  "And either you'll die or he'll die if we don't do something."

Gift nodded.  "We need to get him out of the palace."

"But obviously you can't bring him out.  What about your sister?  Could she?"

"She hates me."

"But she loves him, and will do whatever she can for him."

"I don't know," Gift said.  "I don't think we have much time.  If we have another failure, we could be in trouble."

Coulter stepped away from him. The sun was higher, slanting across the corn, the light hitting the center of Coulter's clothes.  "Time," he said.  "This is all about time."

Gift shook his head.  "I don't understand."

"Your Vision happened two weeks ago.  The change in energy did too.  You think there will be some sort of attack against you soon, and I think they've come for you.  Something else has happened.  Something we don't understand."

"They finally decided to make the trip."

"After twenty years?" Coulter shook his head. 

"I'm an adult now."

"Yes, but wouldn't it be better to raise a child in the manner you want instead of letting someone else do it?"

"You think that old man I saw was my great-grandfather."

"I do," Coulter said.  He turned.  "And if it is, will you join him?"

"In what?" Gift asked.

"In conquering the world.  That's what Fey do, isn't it?"

Gift started.  He had never thought of that.  All his life, he had struggled to keep Shadowlands going. Traveling through the Isle itself had been an adventure.  But to conquer the world  —

He shook his head.  "I'm not a warrior," he said.

"Only because you haven't been raised as one," Coulter said.  "That's my point.  If you want someone to take your place, you train him."

"You think the Black King's come to train me?  Why?"

"Because I think he needs a successor," Coulter said.  "And I think he needs one now."

THIRTY-FOUR

The Shaman was not in Shadowlands.  No one had seen her leave, but no one knew where she was. 

Solanda stopped in the Domicile for a meal.  It had been so long since she had magicked food that she had almost forgotten how light it was.  Wind was doing one more check through all the buildings.  Niche waited for them at her place.