The Black King (Book 7)

by Kristine Kathryn Rusch

  Gift shrugged. “He already has. It might avoid the Blood.”

  “It probably would. There’s an argument to be made that someone should break the Binding between you and Coulter so that you wouldn’t have to die.”

  “Coulter says that’s not possible.”

  Scavenger snorted. “You always believe everything Coulter says. You’re a grown man and you still don’t realize that boy likes being you, even in a small way.”

  “He’s not a boy, Scavenger.”

  “He didn’t want to leave here, you know,” Scavenger said. “He liked having your sister all to himself.”

  “He’s been doing well. It’s Matt we’re worried about. He went up against Rugad alone and lost.”

  “If he’d lost,” Scavenger said, “he’d be dead. Which, I assume, is what happened to Wisdom.”

  Gift nodded. He let Scavenger lead him across the dirt yard. Scavenger looked over his shoulder at Bridge.

  “You’re not Rugar,” Scavenger said, “and you’re too young to be Rugad in the flesh. I assume you’re one of Jewel’s brothers.”

  Behind Gift, Bridge chuckled. “And you must be the famous Red Cap who knows more about magick than the rest of us.”

  “That’s my Uncle Bridge,” Gift said.

  “You’d better be trustworthy,” Scavenger said. “I have a lot invested in this side of your family.”

  Bridge smiled. “I’m not very fond of my grandfather.”

  “No one is, but be warned. I’m not afraid of any Fey.”

  “Scavenger,” Gift warned.

  Scavenger shrugged and let them in a warm kitchen. A cistern sat on one side, ovens on the other. In the middle was a large table that seemed to double as a food preparation area. Two young Islanders, a girl and a boy, were chopping vegetables. As Gift came in, the two of them stopped. The girl curtsied and the boy bowed.

  “Your Highness,” they said in unison.

  Gift started. He had forgotten Islander ways. “It’s all right,” he said. “Stand up.”

  They did, but he could see a wariness on their faces, a nervousness at being in his presence. He wondered if Arianna had had to deal with this while she lived here.

  At that moment, the kitchen door opened and Sebastian walked in. Leen was behind him. She grinned at Gift, but waited for Sebastian to reach Gift first.

  Sebastian still moved slowly, but he looked different. His gray skin had no cracks in it. The smoothness made him look younger. When he saw Gift, he smiled. Gift hurried to his brother and hugged him. His skin was smooth and cool, like it had always been.

  Gift had missed him more than he cared to admit.

  “I...did...not...ex-pect...you,” Sebastian said. “It...is...good...to...see...you.”

  Gift smiled. “And you.”

  Then Sebastian gave Dash a worried look. “Where...is...Ari?”

  “On my ship,” Gift said. “She’s safe. She’s with Coulter.”

  “Ship?” Sebastian asked.

  “It’s a long story, and one I don’t have time for, I’m afraid. I have a lot to do here today, and then I hope to go back to Jahn.”

  “The...plan...did...not...work.” Sebastian sounded sad.

  “No,” Gift said. “But it was a good plan, and it gave us ideas on how to get rid of Rugad the right way. Only Matt got badly hurt.”

  Sebastian nodded. Up once, down once. Such a familiar gesture. Gift was amazed at how little his brother had changed. “I...was...a-fraid...of...that.”

  Gift put his hands on Sebastian’s shoulder. “I will come see you when this is all over.”

  “I...can-not...come...with...you?”

  “No. I need you here. There’s a Fey Assassin after Coulter.”

  “Why?” Sebastian asked.

  “I’ll explain it later,” Scavenger said.

  “I need you to make sure that this Assassin stays away from the school,” Gift said. “Coulter’s pretty angry that I didn’t let him come with me today.”

  Sebastian smiled—his slow beautiful smile. “He...would...be. I...will...make...sure...no...one...harms...Coul-ter...or...the...school.”

  “I’ll make sure of it too.” Leen stepped aside and Gift reached for her, pulling her close. She looked different—stronger and older. Gift could see how she had become Coulter’s second in command.

  “Thank you,” Gift said, knowing he could trust her. “Let me make sure Matt’s settled before I go.”

  “I don’t know why you’re in such a hurry,” Leen said as she led Gift through a large dining room with several scratched and well-used tables. “One night won’t make a difference.”

  “It might make all the difference,” Gift said. “Matt caught Rugad by surprise. It’ll take him some time to recover. I don’t want to give him that time.”

  Behind Gift, Scavenger grunted. Sebastian, who had been following, said, “Did...any...one...else...get...hurt?”

  “Several Fey died,” Gift said softly.

  Sebastian didn’t ask any more questions.

  Leen led Gift into a corridor. It twisted and turned, and it became clear that this was where the buildings joined. The corridor’s patterns made no sense otherwise. Finally they ended up in a Domestic area.

  Gift slipped in, followed by the rest of his group. Empty beds sat side by side, healing blankets were folded against the wall, and bottles of potions, wellness liquids and herbs were scattered on a nearby table.

  Matt was on a bed toward the far end of the room, covered with a healing blanket to his waist. The stone material that Chandra had used to bind his wounds was peeled back, and Gift saw mottled flesh and swelling.

  The boy was still very ill.

  Several Healers and Domestics stood around him. Seger looked up at him and smiled. “Gift.”

  He walked toward her, hugging her with one arm. “Take good care of this boy. He almost saved all of us by himself.”

  “It looks like he’s lucky to be alive.”

  “He’s going to need more than we can give him,” one of the other Healers said. “We’ll need the Islander woman.”

  “No!” Matt’s voice was soft.

  Seger went to his side, and put a comforting hand on him. “She’ll want to know, anyway.”

  A tear formed in the corner of Matt’s eye. “I don’t want her.”

  “You’ll need her if you’re going to heal well,” the other Healer said. “Such wounds became her expertise in the war.”

  “What are we talking about?” Gift asked.

  “The Islander woman that they’re referring to,” Seger said, “is Matt’s mother.”

  “What can she do?” he asked.

  “Let these wounds heal,” Seger said. “All we can do is repair the skin with the same clay as Golems are made of. It’s not the best solution, as you can see. He’ll lose range of motion, and he might still succumb to an infection that so many victims of Foot Soldiers get. We don’t have good remedies against our own magick.”

  Matt was watching the whole interchange. The tear had fallen from his eye, staining the pillow.

  “I was going to take you to her anyway,” Dash said from the back of the room. “She’s one of the keepers of the Vault.”

  “No,” Matt said again. “I have to take you to the Vault.”

  “You’re in no condition to go anywhere,” Seger said.

  “You can’t go to the Vault,” Scavenger said to Gift. “It’s got all the holy secrets. Holy water, everything. Matt’s brother is as crazy as Matthias was. He’ll never let you in there.”

  “He’s going to let me in there,” Gift said.

  “Not without me,” Matt said.

  “I’m sorry.” Gift crouched beside Matt. “I’m going.”

  Matt’s skin was so pale that he looked translucent. “You need me, even if Alex isn’t there. You won’t know what to get.”

  Gift smiled gently. “I’ve seen the Lights of Midday before.”

  “Get...them...from...the...Roca’s...Cave,”
Sebastian said.

  “There aren’t enough,” Gift said. “Coulter and Dad used most of them there. We need as many as we can get, and we don’t have time to make them.”

  “You’ll need to focus the beam.” Matt’s voice was raspy.

  Gift frowned. “From the Lights?”

  Matt nodded. “Otherwise you’ll have to lure Rugad outside. Then you’d send a wide beam of light and everyone nearby with Fey magick will be affected.”

  Gift leaned on his heels. He was embarrassed to realize he hadn’t thought of that at all. Matt was right. The light flowed out like a wide flat beam and destroyed anything in its path. That was how it hit Gift and Arianna the first time.

  “So what else do I get?” Gift asked.

  “Diamonds to cut through walls,” Matt said. Seger put her hand on his forehead. She gave Gift a warning look. “Emeralds to narrow the beam. And the black stones, the heart stones, to chose the target.”

  “All right,” Seger said. “That’s enough.”

  “How do I use the stones?” Gift asked.

  “Line them up horizontally. Diamond first, then a hand-span away, the emerald, and another hand-span, the heartstone.” Matt grabbed Gift with his good hand and squeezed. “Whoever holds the heartstone must think of the target and only that target. Or it will not work.”

  “Will I need anything else?”

  Matt’s eyelids fluttered. “I hope not,” he whispered. “I truly hope not.”

  FORTY-ONE

  LYNDRED STOOD ON DECK with her back to those disturbing mountains. Ever since the ship had come close to this part of the river, she had been drawn to the mountains. Now that they had anchored not far from the place Coulter called the Roca’s Cave, the drive to go to there had been even stronger.

  This was as close as she had ever been to a Place of Power, and she found its effect disturbing. The fact that Coulter said everyone with Vision and strong magick had similar feelings didn’t help her at all. So she looked at the city of Constant instead.

  Constant looked like a dreary place. Even though the sun had risen above the mountain peaks, sunlight still hadn’t touched the valley floor. The stone houses were shrouded in shadow.

  She had no idea how anyone could live here, let alone love the place. It looked dank and gloomy and wretchedly poor to her.

  Or maybe it was just her mood.

  She had awakened to find that her father, Gift, Dash, and Ace had taken Matt off the ship. Gift had forbidden Coulter and Arianna to go. Coulter was angry about it although he claimed to understand. Lyndred didn’t. Gift trusted her father enough to take him on this mission, but there was no reason to leave Lyndred behind. She was a full Visionary, more talented than her father, and she was stronger. Her father hadn’t used his warrior’s muscles in years. She would have been a good asset, but Gift hadn’t even thought of waking her.

  Soft footsteps echoed behind her, but she didn’t move. She didn’t want to talk to anyone.

  “Lyndred?”

  Her heart leaped and her hands dug deeper into the rail. She had to will herself not to turn around. Con was behind her. “I’m waiting for my father,” she said in her coldest tone.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt.” He leaned against the rail so that he could see her face. Which meant that she had to look at his, the face from her Vision.

  “I just wanted to know what I have done to offend you,” Con said. “I’d like to make it up to you if I could.”

  He spoke Fey gently, and it was not a gentle language. His accent negated the harsher syllables, making the words pretty.

  She didn’t know how to talk to him. “You didn’t do anything.”

  “Then perhaps we can start again. I’ve enjoyed a good friendship with your cousins. I’d like to get to know you better.”

  “You’re one of the religious Islanders, aren’t you?”

  “I was a second son, given to the Tabernacle when I was a child. I became an Aud. But Rugad came, burned the Tabernacle, and nearly destroyed the religion.” His smile was sad. “There really hasn’t been a place for me since.”

  Her heart turned. She understood that kind of sadness, although she wasn’t sure why. “I heard that you religious Islanders are dangerous.”

  “If I were dangerous, would Gift and Arianna have brought me with them?” He had her, but she said nothing. “What is it, Lyndred? You can’t really hide from me on a ship this size.”

  The water glistened below them. Here the Cardidas was the color of fresh blood. Was this what she had Seen that day? Or had she really Seen blood on the water?

  “I’ve Seen you in my Visions,” she said. “You broke my heart.”

  “I did?” He sounded shocked.

  “You give me a child I don’t want,” she whispered. “So please, stay away from me.”

  “A child?” He looked startled as if the possibility of children had never occurred to him. “Our child?”

  She didn’t have a direct answer for him. The Vision had been clear that the child was hers. Whether or not he fathered it wasn’t clear, only that he would “give” the child to her.

  He looked beyond her, as if he were staring at the Place of Power. “I’ve seen too much magick to deny this. I understand the truth of Visions. I also know that they can be changed.”

  She leaned on her elbows.

  “You and I,” Con said, “we’re so different that I can’t imagine—”

  “You find me attractive, don’t you?” she said in a flat voice. “That’s why you’re worried that I won’t speak to you.”

  He glanced at her quickly, then looked away. “I find you intriguing. Not anything like your cousins.”

  He wasn’t hiding his feelings from her. If anything, his attempt at a denial made his interest in her clear.

  “Well,” she said in that same flat voice. “I find you attractive too. It terrifies me. I thought Vision was something that allowed a Visionary to avoid what’s going to happen.”

  “You think we’re fated.”

  “I hope not.” She pushed away from the rail. “To me, it feels like you’ve already broken my heart and I’ve only known you for two days. This is the first time I’ve really spoken to you. I’m sure the pain I feel from the Vision is only an echo of the pain I will feel. I’d like to avoid that.”

  He nodded. “I feel like I should apologize for something I haven’t done yet.”

  He was a gentle soul. That made things even harder. “I wish it were that easy,” she said, and walked away.

  FORTY-TWO

  SOMEHOW GIFT EXPECTED MATTHIAS, the man who had murdered his mother, to live in a great home. Gift was surprised when Dash led him to a stone cottage that was the same as the other cottages around it. Only this one had the feeling of neglect.

  The bushes out front hadn’t been trimmed in years. Flowering plants still had the dead brown remains of last summer’s blooms. The wooden door was shredded with time and weather.

  Standing on the threshold, Dash behind him and Bridge on the steps, Gift felt ashamed of how he had initially thought of Matt. Gift had assumed he would be as bad as his father. Matt had been shuttled to Coulter because his parents hadn’t known how to deal with him.

  Gift knocked on the scarred wooden door. He waited, listening, hoping to hear some movement inside. There was nothing. He knocked again, and this time, he heard the scrape of a chair move, and a female voice say in Islander, “Twill be just a moment.”

  He recognized the accent from the Kenniland Marshes, so he was surprised when the door opened and he saw a statuesque red-headed woman with care lines that ran down her face. Red hair was common here. And she was tall, like Matthias had been.

  Before Gift could say anything, she gasped, then bowed. “Highness.”

  He was surprised she recognized him. She hadn’t looked that aware of anything. The air from inside was stale, her clothing needed washing, and her hair fell in stringy waves down her back.

  “Stand,” he said.


  She did and moved out of his way to let him in. Dash followed and so did Bridge. She said nothing.

  The front room was clean, but the furniture was meager. The kitchen was spotless, with a single loaf of bread resting in the middle of the table. The bedroom down the narrow hallway had an unmade bed and clothing scattered along the floor.

  She stood behind a wooden highback chair and stared at him as if he were a figment of her imagination. Her face was puffy. It was clear she had once been a great beauty, but the beauty had been destroyed by a grief so deep it had etched itself on her face.

  “I understand that you’re a healer.” He lowered his voice, made it gentle. He hadn’t planned to do that. He had planned to browbeat the woman until she came to her son. But now, he saw that she was broken too. Just in a different way.

  “Na like Fey Healers.” Her eyes were wide, wary. She didn’t know what he wanted and she seemed frightened by that.

  “What do you do?”

  “I make potions. Salves. Ta help with simpler wounds.”

  “I understand you did a lot during the attack on Constant.”

  “Twas different. We dinna see injuries like that ana more.”

  “But you found a way to treat them?”

  Understanding filled her face. “Some. The ones like burns.”

  The loss of skin was something like a burn. He lowered his voice even farther. “Do you have a son named Matt?”

  She glanced at the kitchen, then at him, as if Matt had something to do with that room. “I do. What’s he done?”

  There was censure in the words. Poor Matt. No wonder he had sacrificed so much. He was desperate for affection.

  “Matt nearly died defending my sister and me,” Gift said.

  She put a hand to her mouth as if she could take back the words, and then closed her eyes.

  “The Fey Healers say that we need your help to make him well. Matt doesn’t want you to come. I think he doesn’t want to risk that you won’t come.”

  Her eyes flew open. They were filled with tears. “I’ll come.”

  She went into the kitchen, picking up a basket along the way. In the kitchen, she started filling the basket with bottles and herbs. Her fingers moved quickly as if part of her had started to panic.