“This morning,” Skya said softly.
“Then I saw Arianna crumbling.”
“Crumbling?” the Shaman asked.
“Like a dirt rock that someone squeezed. And then I saw all the Blood.”
Gift hadn’t moved. The Shaman’s mouth was open slightly. Skya was frowning.
“That’s all?” the Shaman asked.
Lyndred shook her head. This time, she turned to Gift. “You have to understand that I’m trusting you and I’m only doing it because I don’t know where else to turn.”
He was watching her, his features smooth, as if he were holding himself rigid. Only his eyes had changed. They were darker, their blue almost black.
“What else, child?” the Shaman asked.
“I Saw you,” she said to Gift, “holding a baby and crying.”
Skya closed her eyes and turned her head away, but no one else seemed to notice. The Shaman continued to watch Lyndred.
Gift hadn’t moved, but all of the color drained from his face.
“And,” she said, her voice trembling, “I Saw you kill my father.”
“What did you See?” Gift’s tone was low and menacing. Maybe she could believe that he meant to harm her and her father. Maybe she had been wrong.
“My father is drowning. You’re in a boat. You do not save him.”
“That’s not killing him,” Skya said.
“He’s in the water because of you,” Lyndred said, not taking her gaze off Gift’s face. “Everything happens because of you.”
He shook his head. “That’s not how I Saw it. I was the one drowning. A man—he looks like Rugad—reaches for me.”
“They could be part of the same Vision,” the Shaman said.
All of them looked at her. The silence in the room was so profound that Lyndred felt as if everyone could hear her heartbeat.
“You could have fallen overboard,” the Shaman said to Gift. “Her father, who has the look of Rugad, could have reached you. Somehow you tip the boat. You get aboard, but he drowns. Or perhaps starts to drown. Did you actually see him die, child?”
Lyndred shook her head.
“Or it could have happened in reverse,” Skya said softly. “Maybe it’s a death Vision for Gift.”
Gift turned to her, his expression filled with surprise. “I thought you knew nothing about Visions.”
“I told you I didn’t like Visionaries,” she said. “That’s different.”
“You told me,” he said softly, “that you didn’t like Shaman.”
“Because of their Visions.”
Lyndred felt as if she had walked into the middle of a private conversation. The Shaman put her hand on Gift’s shoulder. He straightened, nodded toward Skya as if they would finish the discussion later, and then glanced at the Shaman.
“You said, child, that everything happened because of Gift. Do you mean the drowning?”
Lyndred swallowed against a dry throat. “I meant everything I Saw.”
They were all silent, as if they didn’t believe her.
“You have to understand why I came to you, why I would risk all of this,” Lyndred said.
“Because you believe Gift is the center, the one who should rule,” the Shaman said.
“No.”
“Because you hope you can pit me against my sister, and the door will open for you to take the Black Throne,” Gift said.
“No.” The room was getting close, stuffy. A bead of sweat ran down Lyndred’s back.
“Then why, child?” the Shaman asked.
“Because Arianna’s Blind.” Lyndred spoke louder than she wanted to. “Don’t you understand? That’s why you frighten her. Because she can’t See anything. She asks me for my Visions and doesn’t share hers. I’ve never seen her fall prey to a Vision and neither has anyone else, not since she’s been ill.”
“Arianna was ill?” Gift asked.
Lyndred nodded. “She was unconscious for more than two days, and she had horrible headaches before that.”
“After you arrived.”
“Before,” Lyndred said.
“Then how do you know?”
“My father found the Islander servants. They told him. She released most of them after she awoke. She’s been different since then.”
Gift glanced at the Shaman. The Shaman took a step toward Lyndred and then stopped. “When was this?” she asked, as if she were afraid of the answer.
“More than six months ago,” Lyndred said.
“When exactly?”
“I don’t know,” Lyndred said.
“You have Vision.” Gift spoke with a calmness that sounded forced. “Six months ago, did you see a light threaded with black?”
“No,” Lyndred said. At least, not that she could remember. All she remembered was that coldness that swept over her, a coldness that had worried her father. “But right about the time we left Nye I had the oddest feeling, as if everything had changed.”
“Changed?” the Shaman asked.
Skya was looking as confused as Lyndred felt. Why was this important?
“Like I had been touched by a darkness in my magick,” Lyndred said. “and then the feeling went away.”
“Darkness,” Gift repeated. He put a hand to his face and closed his eyes. Then he turned away. “Darkness.”
“What is it?” the Shaman asked.
“Gift?” Skya asked.
Only Lyndred watched without saying anything. Gift had gone to the bed and sat on its edge, his face hidden by his hands.
“Gift?” Skya asked again.
“My mother had said that Arianna had been infected by a dark magick.” Gift’s hands made his voice sound muffled.
“You think it was the Light from the Throne?”
Gift nodded.
The Shaman frowned. “That wouldn’t Blind her.”
“Islander magick is different. It changes Fey magick. Maybe, in seeking her out, the Light hurt her.” Gift stared at Lyndred. “Are you sure about this Blindness?”
“She won’t tell me her Visions. No one has seen her have Visions. She seems to want to know about any kind of Vision. She’s almost ravenous for them.”
“Then that’s what it is,” Skya said.
They all looked at her. She held out her hands as if in explanation. “I had the funniest feeling looking at her, as if she were two people, one overlaying the other.”
“What’s your magic?” Lyndred asked.
“She’s a Warder,” Gift said.
“Could you see these people?” the Shaman asked.
“No,” Skya said. “But if she had gone Blind, she would be two people. The woman she once was with Vision and strength, and the frightened person underneath who knows that she lost it all.”
Gift shook his head. “The woman I saw wasn’t frightened.”
“She was frightened enough to banish you,” Skya said.
“No,” Gift said. “It’s not like she’s afraid of me. It’s like she’s trying to control me.”
“Because of what you might do,” Skya said.
“Because of the Blood,” Gift said. “She thinks I’ll unleash it.”
“You might,” the Shaman said, “if you discover that she’s Blind.”
Gift looked at Lyndred.
“I might be wrong,” Lyndred said, “but I was raised to believe that a Blind ruler was the worst thing the Fey could have.”
Skya was biting her lower lip. The Shaman stared at Lyndred as if she didn’t quite know what to make of her.
Gift ran a hand through his hair. “What do you expect me to do? I can’t overthrow her. That’s what she expects, and that will bring on the Blood.”
“Will it?” Lyndred asked.
“You know it will.”
“There have been bloodless coups in Fey history.”
He raised his head. Those blue eyes were intense. “Is that what you’re advocating? A coup?”
Lyndred shook her head. “I’m not advocating anything except th
at you should find out what’s wrong. You don’t seem pleased by today’s events. I just don’t want you to close any doors.”
“You might be the one who is provoking the entire crisis,” Gift said. “it could be your meddling that causes the Blood.”
Lyndred flushed again. She had never put herself on the line like this before, and had never been treated this way. She was beginning to get tired of it.
The Shaman apparently noticed that Lyndred was getting angry. She held up a hand. “You said everything happens because of Gift?”
“Yes,” Lyndred said.
“I’ve Seen that too. I’ve told you, Gift, you are the center whether you want to be or not. And we now have another Visionary confirming it.”
“Arianna has banished me from the Empire.”
“Her threat is idle,” the Shaman said.
“Is it?” Gift looked at her. He seemed quite young, suddenly, almost a boy. “She threatened everyone on this ship if I don’t leave.”
“Because she knows you have attachments. Because she believes she can use them against you. And if you let her, this tactic will work.”
“What if she is Blind?” Skya asked. “What then?”
“We can’t force her to step down,” Gift said.
“I’m sure we could find a way,” the Shaman said.
“It would be impossible to prove.”
“Actually,” the Shaman said, “it’s quite simple. Lyndred could have done it on her own if she wanted.”
“How?”
“By asking her to make a Shadowlands.”
Only Visionaries could make Shadowlands. They were like boxes of air made in the sky, only an entire army could hide in them.
“I don’t know how to make a Shadowlands,” Lyndred said.
The Shaman shook her head. “Then your father committed a grave oversight in your education. You should know how. In fact, when you return, ask Arianna to teach you.”
“She’ll see through that.”
“She might,” the Shaman said. “She might not.”
“You’re advising me to stay?” Gift asked.
“She gave you two weeks,” the Shaman said. “A lot can change in two weeks.”
Gift stood. The frown on his face was deep. “I’m curious about one thing. You Saw Arianna crumble, like dirt. Have you touched her?”
Lyndred nodded. “You think she’s a Golem, right? My father asked the same thing. Her skin is warm and soft and feels like mine.”
“A Shape-Shifter Golem can’t shift its skin can it?” Gift asked Skya.
“No,” Skya said. “Golems feel like stone. And a Golem that lives on its own is very rare.”
“I know,” Gift said. “My brother Sebastian is a Golem.”
Skya shook her head once, as if she hadn’t known that.
“I’ve seen no trace of your Golem,” Lyndred said. “The Fey servants said he tried to harm Arianna and fled the palace months ago.”
“Did she destroy him?” Gift asked.
“No.”
“Do you know where he went?”
“With a Healer named Seger and someone called Coulter. They took a carriage east.”
Gift shook his head. “This makes no sense. Arianna says she asked Sebastian to leave the palace.”
“Maybe she did,” Lyndred said. “I’m only telling you the gossip.”
“It can be easily checked,” Skya said.
Gift nodded. He turned those sharp blue eyes to Lyndred. “What’s your interest in all of this? What do you want?”
“I once thought I could live a small life in Nye,” she said, “but my father made sure that wasn’t possible. Then as we were coming here, I thought maybe I could find a way to take the Throne. Now, I just want to be free of this place. Arianna watches me. She guards me like I’m something that she owns, and I don’t want that. And there are so many blond men—”
“What?” Skya asked.
Lyndred swallowed. She had done that to herself. “Blond men,” she said softly. “One of them will hurt me badly some day. It’s a Vision.”
“Visions,” Skya said. “Visions and prophecies and warnings. This is why I said I didn’t want to come on this journey, Gift. When you’re with a Visionary, these things dominate your life. You don’t seem to have the ability to make any choices without them. And the worst part about it is that those Visions don’t always come true.”
“Sometimes we avert them,” Gift said.
“And usually you misunderstand them. Your sister has banished you from your home. Stand up for yourself.” Skya’s eyes narrowed. “Stand up for me.”
“It’s not that simple,” Gift said.
“It is simple. You’re the Black Heir. You’re the one who has touched the Throne. You’ve been all over the Empire. Arianna hasn’t. Establish yourself as the Black King. The people will follow you.”
Lyndred held her breath.
“If I do something like that,” Gift said, “I’d have to watch my back at all times.”
The room had grown unbearably hot. Lyndred felt another trickle of sweat run down her cheek. No one else seemed to notice. All she knew was that she couldn’t stay here any longer. “I’m going to go. I’ll be at the palace. If you need me, just send for me.”
“I think Arianna will have something to say about that. You know that she’s put someone on me, to watch me?”
Lyndred hadn’t known that, but it didn’t surprise her. She shrugged. “Arianna expected me to ally with you.”
“She did?” the Shaman asked. “Was that Vision?”
“No,” Lyndred said. “She knows I think she’s Blind.”
“You told her that?” the Shaman asked.
“Yes.”
“Was that wise?”
“She’s smart,” Lyndred said. “She would have figured it out on her own. Just like she’ll figure out that Shadowlands thing.”
“I don’t know if we should let you go back, then,” the Shaman said.
“She can’t kill me any more than she can kill Gift. Unless, of course, she manipulates it.”
Gift’s mouth narrowed. “It’s your choice, Lyndred.”
They were kind to think about her. Even in their mistrust, they were kind. “My father’s there,” she said. “I’ll go back.”
“Be careful,” the Shaman said.
Lyndred nodded. “I’ll do my best.”
EIGHTEEN
ARIANNA SAT on the stone bench and watched as Dash prepared the carriage. He knew horses and was an excellent carriage driver. He was the one who helped them escape Jahn six months before.
Con was helping him. Con would be going with them as part of the team. He was bringing his sword, the one that had helped put Sebastian back together. The unspoken idea was that if Arianna shattered, Con had the means to reassemble her.
Dash was securing bedrolls and food to the back of the carriage. They were taking more supplies than Arianna thought necessary, but Coulter wanted them to be able to hide for a long time if they had to. Matt was supposed to send them a message when he felt they should come to the palace. Coulter thought that might take weeks.
She didn’t want to take weeks. She wanted to face Rugad and get him out of her body. She wanted to be able to move again.
The last few days had been torture. She wanted to leave as soon as Matt had, but she knew she had to wait. If anyone saw them coming into Jahn so soon after, word might get back to Rugad. He would figure out what was going on. Coulter said he wouldn’t, but Arianna had decided underestimating Rugad was the worst thing they could do.
Dash went back into the kitchen for more supplies. Arianna stared at the carriage. The trip would be a long one. She wasn’t looking forward to it. But she was looking forward to seeing Jahn. She had missed it more than she wanted to admit. And she was going to take it back.
Coulter was worried that their plan wouldn’t work. Coulter was worried that they’d get caught, maybe even killed. He was also afraid he would have to
use his magick like he did in the first battles against the Black King. And Coulter was afraid he’d freeze, just like he did then.
Arianna had her own concerns about that. But she was different from Coulter. The first plan might not work. It might cost some lives, but they were at war. They had to expect some risks.
So she had come up with a secondary plan that she told no one about. It wasn’t one she liked much. She liked her third plan better, but she wasn’t sure she could pull it off, not yet.
She had lived too long in this body thinking it immutable stone. She was trying to change that. For the last two nights, she had come to the magick yard after everyone else went to bed and she had held out her hand, trying a simple Shift that infant Shifters could do in their sleep—literally. It was why so many infant Shifters, born to non-Shifter parents, died.
She tried to turn her fingers into flame.
Both nights nothing happened and she had finally given up, going to bed angry and upset. She was trying to do something easy, but it was also something that had come so naturally to her and had first happened so young that she had no memory of learning it. So she spent a lot of time imagining her fingers in flame, trying to remember the feeling, trying to control the body.
She was trying to convince herself that Shifting was as natural to her as walking. If she could walk in this stone body, she could Shift it.
The problem was that she knew some of the theories of Fey magick. No one knew whether the magick resided in the soul or in the body, but some believed that certain magicks—Shifting being one of them—resided more in the body than others. Still, no one had proven that. She had to control her own thoughts. Until she believed she could Shift in this body, she wouldn’t be able to.
If she could Shift, she suddenly had a variety of options open to her. She could walk into the palace as herself, skin feeling like flesh and blood, and show the Fey around them that there was at least one imposter in their midst. Or she could appear as Gift—she had done that before—or even, if she practiced, Rugad himself. That would scare him.
She smiled. That would scare everyone.
Behind her, she could hear Coulter giving last minute instructions to Leen. Leen and Scavenger would run the school while Coulter was gone. Leen would be in charge, but Scavenger would handle much of the magick instruction. His knowledge made him invaluable.
The Black King (Book 7) Page 20