The Rival (39 page)

"You couldn't have stopped it," Adrian said.  Then he noted Coulter glaring at him.

"Platitudes aren't the answer," Coulter said.

"But it's true," Adrian said.

"It's not true."  Gift spoke softly.  "I am the Black King's great-grandson.  He could not have fought me.  If I had been there to defend Shadowlands, he would not have killed everyone inside."

His words hung in the morning air.  Adrian felt the truth of them.  His heart ached.  He remembered that feeling.  If he had not said yes that morning when Luke had wanted to accompany him on the attack on Shadowlands, they would never have been captured.  Adrian wouldn't have lost all those years, and Luke would never have been Charmed by the Fey.

"But he knew," Gift said.  "He knew I wasn't there.  He kept Shadowlands intact so that I wouldn't die.  He wouldn't have attacked  — "

"Enough," Adrian said.  "This will get you nowhere."

"Besides," Coulter said.  "We have a more serious problem."

Gift raised empty eyes to him.  "Niche and Wind were my parents, Coulter.  There is no more serious problem."

"To me there is," Coulter said.  "If the Black King knew you weren't in Shadowlands, does he know where you are now?"

"How could he?"

Adrian knew where Coulter was going with this.  "How could he get on this Isle without coming down the Cardidas?  I suspect your great-grandfather is a better man than your grandfather was."

"I don't care," Gift said.  "He murdered my family.  I never even Saw it."

"But you Saw your own death."

"Or Sebastian's."  Gift brought his free hand to his mouth.  "The old Fey I saw.  Was that my great-grandfather?"

The thought seemed to sober Coulter.  He put a hand on Gift's back.  "When did you first have the Vision?"

"Two weeks ago."

"That's when you said the energy changed," Adrian said.

Coulter nodded.  "And Visions are brought into play when something happens to inspire them."

"It was my great-grandfather."

"But he didn't kill you," Coulter said.

Gift shook his head.  "He seemed surprised."

Adrian rubbed his nose with his thumb and forefinger.  "This seems like a muddle to me.  Why would he destroy everything associated with you?"

"He could destroy the entire Isle as long as he doesn't touch me or my blood family," Gift said.  He sounded weary now.  Resigned.  "And that doesn't include Sebastian."

"It might," Coulter said.  "He has a part of you inside."

"We have to get Sebastian," Gift said.

"I don't think we can now.  The Black King will look for you at the palace.  We need to hide you."

"We can't let Sebastian face him alone."

"He won't be alone," Coulter said.  "He has his father and sister."

Gift shook his head.  "But what if he and I are bound like you and me?  What if I die when he does?"

"He isn't real," Coulter said.

"He's real."  Gift's voice had a quiet strength.

Coulter looked at Adrian over Gift's head.  "We'll worry about that later.  First we have to find a safe place for you."

"I won't hide," Gift said.  "What's there to hide from?  The Black King can't kill me.  He won't hurt me.  He probably came for me.  That's the only reason he would come to the Isle now.  Hiding me will make no difference.  The worst has already happened."  His eyes teared as he spoke that last, but no tears fell.  "Help me up," he said, extending a hand to Coulter, sounding kinglike himself. 

Coulter helped Gift to his feet.  Adrian stood also.

"What are we going to do now?" Coulter asked.  Adrian finally understood why Coulter had felt so trapped by Gift's arrival.  The events were spiraling too fast to follow.  Coulter had to stay at Gift's side because they were bound.

"We're going to find Sebastian," Gift said.  "And we're going to find my great-grandfather."

Adrian's mouth went dry.  "Coulter, do you know what kind of a risk you're facing?  You were just a boy with Rugar.  He was bad enough.  His father has ruled the Fey for generations.  He'll be  — "

"Even worse, I know," Coulter said.  "You've made that point."  He never took his attention off Gift.  He leaned closer and said, softly, "You can't kill him, Gift, any more than he can kill you."

Adrian glanced at Gift.  The set line of his mouth, the narrowness of his eyes.  He didn't seem like someone who wanted to kill, except for that tingling turmoil around him, that anger as repressed as the tears.

"That's right, I can't," Gift said.  "But I don't need him like he needs me.  I don't have to live in his shadow my whole life."

"What are you thinking?" Coulter asked.

"I'm not going to kill him," Gift said.  "But I'm not going to stand in the way if anyone else does."  Then he smiled, eased away from Coulter's hands, and walked forward.

"Leen," he said in a voice that made chills run down Adrian's back.  "Something's happened."

Her family was dead too, and she didn't know.  Gift told her in that same chilly voice.  And Adrian watched as her expression went from puzzled to complete and total fury.

"I don't like this," he said softly to Coulter.

"You don't have to like it," Coulter said.  "You just have to survive it."

And this time, Adrian wondered if he would.

FORTY-ONE

Titus watched, horrified, as the animals surged around Reece..  For a moment, Reece disappeared beneath a pile of brown and black fur.  He screamed, once, and then the sound was cut off mid-thrum.  The animals pulled back, as if getting their bearings, giving Titus a clear picture of the scene below.

A wolf had Reece by the throat, and although he thrashed, he screamed no more.  Blood spattered all over the tiles, hiding the scenes from the Roca's life.  A cat, at the edge of the animal group, broke away, and began licking the blood off the ceramic. 

Titus reached for his holy water vial.  He had killed with it once before.  Only once, when the Fey were going after the Fiftieth Rocaan.  His hands were shaking.  But before he could grab his own vial, Hume was pouring holy water over the balcony's rail.

The animals were growling below, and there was a horrible smacking sound.  Reece's feet slammed against the tile, once, twice, three times before becoming still.  Several animals ripped flesh, pulling it away.  A big cat ripped off Reece's arm and dragged it to the side of the courtyard, growling at any creature that got too close.  One of the large creatures, the ones that Onha had called bears, swept others aside with its huge paws and wrapped its forearms around Reece's body, dragging him back toward the gate.  Reece's head lolled, his neck a gaping wound.

He was dead.

The holy water splattered onto the tile, mixing with the blood and diluting it.  The Fey animals didn't even look up.  Nothing happened.  Hume ran off the balcony and went inside to get to Titus's stash of holy water vials.  So much for the intellectual arguments.  When it came down to war, Hume fought, as he said he would.

There were shouts and growls from the road.  More Fey were showing up, tall Fey, two-legged normal Fey, their faces sleek and dark, their hands tucked under their arms.  They were wearing tunics and leggings of a kind Titus had never seen.  They were marching in a line that seemed to go on forever.

A bear opened the gate to them, and they came in.

More shouts and a long, whipping cry.  Then the animals surged forward, toward the Tabernacle.

Hume was back on the balcony, holding up the skirt of his robe.  It contained vials.  He grabbed one and tossed it to Titus.  Titus caught it with one hand.  The cut glass diamonds were sharp against his palm, the glass itself cool.

It had come to this.

There were more Fey outside than religious folk inside.  Hume reached the edge of the balcony and, with a wave of his skirt, tossed the vials over the railing.  They glistened in the sun as they spun their way down, sending bits of colored light, like signals, back to Titus.

Then they shattered around a dozen Fey.

The Fey growled and looked up.  Some wiped the glass off their fur.  A piece of glass sliced off a tiny Fey's head, and the entire creature stopped, jolted, and fell over, dead.  They were tied together somehow.

But the water did nothing.

"Is this holy water?" Hume asked him.

Titus nodded.  He had made some of it, Matthias had made some, and the Fiftieth Rocaan had made the rest.  He couldn't even blame the fact that it didn't work on his own error.

The normal Fey pushed their way through the animals, and tried to open the doors below.  The Auds had it barricaded.  The pounding resounded through the morning air as the Fey tried to break in.

Hume grabbed Titus's arm.  "We need to get you to the catacombs," he said.

The holy water wasn't working.  The warnings had been right, and he hadn't listened to them.  In his arrogance, he had blamed Nicholas.

"Come on," Hume said, dragging him.

If the holy water didn't work, then they were all in danger.

"I can make it," Titus said.  "Evacuate the entire Tabernacle into the catacombs.  We have to do it before the Fey break in."

Hume nodded once and was out the door.  Titus held the holy water vial, turned it over in his hand, and stared at it.  They had no protections now.

He glanced below.  The animals were surging forward, surrounding the Tabernacle, the normal Fey mixed in with them.  The shouts and growls and cries were overwhelming.

Titus set the bottle on the rail and then ran to the door.  He pulled it open to find Auds running through the hallways.  "Go to the catacombs!" he yelled. "Quickly!  Warn everyone!"

There was more yelling below.  Lots of yelling.  Screams and cries and warnings that the Fey were about to break in.  He could feel the fear, like a presence in the Tabernacle.

And he couldn't feel God.

His sandals slapped against the stairs.  A Danite nearly ran him down as he passed, without an apology to the Holy Sir.  They already knew what was going to happen.  It was hopeless. The only way they could save themselves was to get to the catacombs, several stories down.

On the third floor, Porciluna was standing on the landing, holding a hand to his chest, and breathing hard.  Several Danites and an Officiate passed him. 

Titus stopped.

"Come, my friend," Titus said.  "We have to get below."

Porciluna's face was flushed.  Sweat dripped off his chin.  "I — can't — " He was taking shallow breaths between each word.  " — Go — "

"No."  Titus put an arm around Porciluna and pulled him away from the wall. Porciluna's robe was soaked in sweat.  "I'm not going without you."

"They'll — kill — you.  You — can't — die — "

"They won't kill me," Titus said.  "Now come on."

" — I — can't — "

Titus wasn't listening.  He helped Porciluna to the steps.  "You're coming.  We're going together."

"No — " He said, but he went down the steps anyway, speeding up as he went along.  His face grew redder, and the sweat ran off him like water.  "There's  — a — rope — ladder — "

Titus understood his fear.  "We'll get you down it," Titus said.

They reached the second landing, and Porciluna grabbed an Aud.  " — Help — me — , boy, — so — the — Rocaan — can — go — "

The Aud looked at Titus.   The boy was maybe eleven.  Maybe.

"I can do this," Titus said.

" — You — have — the — Secrets," Porciluna said.

"I have him, Holy Sir."  The Aud shoved himself under Porciluna's arm and took the brunt of the older man's weight.

"Thank you," Titus said.

The pounding below was growing louder.  It would only be a matter of moments before the Fey broke in.  Fortunately, they hadn't realized that the windows would have been easier to break through: they were only blocked by the tapestries. 

Titus hurried down the steps, his arm soaked from Porciluna's sweat.  The older man's fear stink clung to him, and made his own heart pound faster.

He reached the first floor as the Fey broke through the main doors.  The animals ran in, the little Fey on their backs shouting gleefully.  Cats, bears, wolves all ran through the corridor of the Tabernacle.  A large cat with a wild mane knocked over a candelabrum, and the burning candles scattered. 

Danites screamed, and Auds were running down the hall, cats of all sizes behind them. The dogs had cornered an Officiate near the portrait of the Eight Rocaan, and were snarling at him, drooling as they did.  The stench was horrible.

The worst was the large bear creatures.  One of them had an Aud by the throat and was shoving him against the wall.  Most of the other Fey remained outside the open door, catching those Rocaanists who ran from the building.  Titus could see from his position on the steps.  The Fey caught the Auds, the Danites, the runners, and one Fey would hold the victim while the others skinned him alive.  Skinned him with a single touch.

Titus's stomach churned.  The Danites were throwing holy water as if it were rain.  It did no good.  One of the Auds had grabbed the sword from the wall of the Servant's Chapel and was wielding it like a real weapon.  The Fey animals stayed away from him.

No one had seen Titus on the stairs.  Others ran past him, stopped when they saw the confusion below, and ran back up.  Porciluna and his helpful Aud finally reached Titus.

"We're not going to get out this way, are we?" Porciluna asked.  His breath had obviously come back, although his face was a mottled purple and his robe was soaking wet. 

Titus shook his head.  "Even if we tried, we'd just lead them to the catacombs.  Those who are inside need a chance to escape."

"And what of you, Holy Sir?" the young Aud asked.

What of him indeed?  He was the key to it all, and the one the Fey would most like dead. 

"Get him an Aud's robe," Porciluna said.  "Quickly."

"I'll get it myself," Titus said.  The Fey hadn't come to the stairways yet, but they would, and then Porciluna and the young Aud would be on their own.

The idea was a good one, though.  It might give Titus a chance to escape.