The Rival

Home > Other > The Rival > Page 40
The Rival Page 40

by Kristine Kathryn Rusch


  But traveling north would probably take him out of the Black King's reach.

  "We're wrong," Flurry said.

  Cinder wiped her face with the back of her arm. She left a smear of dirt along her forehead. "Wrong?"

  "Everyone else will be checking the farms. Let's go north."

  "But our orders are to — "

  "Our orders are to find him," Flurry said, "whatever that takes. The farmland is just a place to start. Come on. Let's follow the road north."

  "If I were hiding, I wouldn't take a road," Cinder said.

  "You would if you know people were looking for you in farmland," Flurry said.

  She shook her head, her close cropped hair blowing into her eyes. She brushed it away. "I would find a hidey-hole and stay there."

  She would too. Flurry looked at her. A lot of people would. But the great-grandson of the Black King? Rugad wouldn't stay, nor would his son, Rugar. Jewel wouldn't have stayed either, or her brother Bridge. As for the others? Maybe. But Flurry doubted it. They were taught from birth to lead, and part of leadership meant movement. It didn't mean hiding.

  But he had no idea what this Fey had been taught. He did know, though, that he was searching for the great-grandson raised by the Fey, not the one raised by the Islander. If any great-grandson had the possibility of leadership, this one did.

  Which was probably why Rugad was looking for him.

  "That's a good point," Flurry said, "but such a search would take days. It would be difficult, and we have little chance of success. Let the others try that. You and I will search the road."

  "After we stop and have some nourishment." She crossed her little arms, her frown severe.

  He stared at her for a moment. He needed her. He had to keep reminding himself of that. He needed her. He wouldn't let her run this, but he would have to take her wishes into account sometimes.

  "All right," he said. "We'll stop. But only for a very short time."

  She smiled, flattened her arms against her side, and dove for the ground. He sighed and dove after her.

  She had better get a good rest here. Once they got back in the air, he intended to find Rugad's great-grandson.

  No matter what it took.

  FIFTY-NINE

  The acrid taste of smoke filled her mouth. Arianna felt as if the stench covered her, as if she would never be the same. The flight over the city had left her discouraged and angry, and terrified that her family — her people — would be helpless against the Fey.

  She had promised the Shaman that she wouldn't attack her great-grandfather, but the same promise had to hold for him. He couldn't go after her either. That should give her some leeway. What kind, she didn't know yet.

  Her wings felt heavy. She had used these muscles a lot in the past two days, when she hadn't flown much before that. She should have kept herself in better condition, should have been preparing for something like this, anything like this.

  As if an invasion, anticipated for twenty years but never really believed in, could be prepared for.

  The scrapes, from her encounter with Solanda, still ached. They showed in the thin feather covering on her right wing. That encounter seemed so long ago.

  Arianna sighed. In all her searching, she had seen no sign of that Gift. She had a lot to report, but nothing her brother Sebastian wanted to hear.

  Fey were scattered all over the city below her. But, for the most part, they stayed away from the palace area. That both pleased and worried her. The Black King had a plan for those birds.

  She suspected that she wouldn't like it.

  The palace grew closer. At least it was still standing. She had a fear, after seeing the Tabernacle, that she would return to see the palace on fire as well.

  But it wasn't. It still stood, its three towers tall in the sunlight, the flags flying off its turrets. The windows were shuttered, though, the tapestries down, and that looked odd in the middle of the day.

  The birds remained below, but some had shifted position. They had backed up from before.

  The feathers on her back rose, and she let out an involuntary warble. The sound was small, and carried away by the wind. She barely heard it herself.

  She clamped her beak closed then and flew as low as she could without appearing like she was looking.

  A body lay in the courtyard.

  At least she thought it was a body. It had bones and some skin, and the remains of clothing. Blood spattered everywhere. Some of the birds were still coated.

  She resisted the urge to fly even lower. She would be seen. They would realize she wasn't a robin after all, but had Fey blood just like they did.

  Although she didn't want to claim that blood any longer. No matter what Solanda said, Arianna was Islander. Pure Islander. She would never be part of this savagery, the savagery below her.

  Her heart was pounding hard. Bile rose again in her throat. Someone had died down there. Maybe even someone she knew.

  Her father?

  She hoped not.

  The only thing she could be certain of was that it wasn't Sebastian. She had no idea what was inside his body, only that it wouldn't be that easy to peck apart.

  Then she saw the guard huddled near the kitchen door, his uniform splattered with blood, and she knew what happened. A guard had gone out there, and had died.

  A guard.

  She was relieved it wasn't her father, and ashamed of that feeling at the same time. A life was a life was a life.

  Except when it belonged to someone she loved.

  She swept upward on an air current, and let herself drift toward the north tower. Then she landed on her ledge and slipped behind it, as she had done before. She resisted the urge to look behind her, to peek her small robin's head around the barrier, and see if any other birds had followed her.

  She hopped off the ledge inside the room. It hadn't changed. No birds had come in here since she left. She moved away from the window and Shifted. Her bird's body elongated, her bones filled and her feathers slipped inside her skin. Her fragile wings remolded into arms, and her spiky legs into human legs. Her beak flattened, her nose returned and she had a mouth again.

  The taste of smoke was so strong it lay like a layer of filth on her tongue. She swallowed, and the bile she had been holding back rose up. She put a hand on the dirty wall and vomited, once, twice, three times, until her stomach was empty.

  Her mouth tasted foul, but at least the stench of smoke was gone. She ripped a corner off her robe and wiped her face. Never before had she had such a reaction to Shifting. But she suspected it hadn't been caused by the Shift, but by all the death around her.

  Her body had merely waited until it was safe before allowing a reaction.

  She took a deep breath, and blinked. Her eyes burned, and nothing she did seemed to make them feel any better.

  It was real now.

  It was war.

  And it wouldn't get any better.

  Her parents had met in conditions like this. Her father had hoped to spare her. But it wasn't possible. Not with her heritage. Not with Blue Isle between Leut and Galinas.

  Not with the possibility of Fey failure, a failure that would be known world-wide.

  Solanda had warned her this day might come, but Arianna hadn't known what it would mean. It meant bodies and the smell of burning flesh. It meant smoke all over the city, and being a prisoner in her own home. It meant fear so deep that it was like another power inside her.

  She pulled on her robe and staggered back to the window. It was open and would remain so, unless she did something.

  No birds had followed her, but she had found this place. They might too.

  She put boards and hay across it, building a barrier as quickly as she could. It could be knocked away easily, but the birds might not even try. They would go for more obvious places.

  She hoped.

  Then she tightened the belt on her robe and let herself out of the small room.

  The tower was dark. The lack of w
indow light made it seem like night in the stairwell. The sound of her feet slapping against stone echoed. That feeling of being alone, the one she had had earlier, was back. She resisted the urge to cry out. No one would be here. She had specifically requested that her guards be called off. No one knew about her Shifts except her father, the nurse, Sebastian, and Solanda. No one else could know. The Islanders wouldn't accept it.

  She made it down to the Uprising room where her father said he would wait for her. Then she stopped.

  The stairwell was still empty. If her father was inside, there should have been guards outside.

  There were none.

  Was that body below the last remnants of a fight? Had there been a defection? A kidnapping?

  Had the Black King come and taken her family away?

  She bit back the fear. She had been taught, in a situation like this, to go away from the place in question, to find help. But that teaching had supposed a normal world, and normal events. She gripped her side of the door, and eased it open, preparing to run if she saw something unusual.

  What she saw was her father, standing alone in the center of the room, his face pale. She slipped around the door and came in, remembering Solanda's teachings. Fey could take over a person's body, and become that person. The only way to tell was to look in the eyes.

  "Daddy?" she asked.

  He turned quickly and joy filled his face. Sebastian peeled himself away from the far wall — she hadn't even seen him — and shouted, " … Ari! … " in a tone that matched her father's look.

  Nicholas hurried across the room, but when he came close, she held out her arm. Her sleeve fell away, leaving her skin exposed to the air. She felt as if her entire self were exposed.

  "I'm sorry," she said, her voice trembling. "Let me see your eyes."

  "Arianna," he said.

  "Please."

  He opened his eyes wide. They were blue and bloodshot, the whites nearly red from strain. But there was no gold in them.

  " … It's … him … ," Sebastian said, and she trusted that more than she trusted Solanda's description of a phenomenon Arianna had never seen. Sebastian always recognized dangerous magick, and Sebastian was impossible to duplicate. Solanda had told her that Doppelgängers couldn't become a magick construct. They couldn't even use someone else's magick, only someone else's appearance.

  "Daddy," she said, and fell forward into his arms. He wrapped them around her and pulled her tight. For a moment she felt like a little girl again, safe and secure in her father's arms, as if he could make it all better, as if he were the most powerful person in the entire world.

  No.

  That was her great-grandfather.

  The thought made her pull back, but he father continued to hold her. He buried his face in her hair. He was trembling. For the first time, she felt how frail he was. How deeply terrified he had been.

  She brought a hand up and stroked his head. "Daddy," she said. "It's all right. I'm back."

  He nodded into her hair, but didn't let her go yet.

  "I'm safe."

  " … I … thought … you … would … die … " Sebastian said, and his voice held so much sadness that both Arianna and her father turned to him. They opened their embrace to him, and clung, the small family, backs to the world.

  "I won't die," she said. Although she wasn't as certain of that as she had been just a few hours ago. She had seen more in that time than she had seen in her entire life.

  Finally her father took a deep breath and pulled out of the hug. He caressed Arianna's cheek with one hand, a gesture he had never used before, and then smiled, just a little. "Don't take too many more risks, honey," he said.

  She squeezed Sebastian's side, then let him go. "I can't make that promise," she said. "The Fey are all over the city. They're burning it. People are — " the bile rose again, and she swallowed it back. " — People are dead."

  Her father nodded, as if he weren't surprised. Then he turned, clasped his hands behind his back, and walked to the window. The sky was black with purple markings. The sun, coming through the smoke, had turned hazy white.

  She turned to Sebastian. His cracked face was full of hope.

  "I didn't see him," she said.

  The change in his features was slow. His mouth dropped open, his cracks grew deeper, and tears filled his eyes. She took his hand. "But that doesn't mean anything. He could be anywhere. He's probably hiding from the Fey."

  Her father hadn't turned, but he had obviously heard that too. She couldn't tell how he was feeling about Gift. She wasn't sure she wanted to know.

  He took a deep breath. "What of the Tabernacle?" he asked.

  "It's burning," she said.

  A shudder ran through him, but she didn't know what it meant. Her father had hated the Tabernacle, had hated it for a long time. And yet he had ties to it. He was a part of it, even though he didn't want to admit it.

  "Your great-grandfather is smart," her father said.

  She nodded, even though he couldn't see her. "Why isn't anyone guarding this room?" she asked.

  "No one's left in the palace except us," her father said.

  She frowned. She had only seen one body below. Had the others escaped? Was it just her family being held? "Where is everyone else?"

  "Monte and I have a plan," her father said, and then added no more.

  "You sent them away?" She wasn't understanding this. "You sent guards away, and staff, and people who would protect you and Sebastian? Are you crazy?"

  Her father's shoulders rose and fell as he sighed. "Look at all the birds," he said.

  "I've seen them. There's thousands, and more Fey reinforcements coming. It's an army, Daddy, an army like we've never seen before. And you're not protected."

  "An army gives an illusion of safety," her father said. "I was no safer with the guards here than without. It was just a few more lives as a barrier to the Fey, more people to slaughter before those butchers got to me."

  "I don't understand," she said. "You need protection."

  He shook his head. "I've been thinking like my own father lately, and that's wrong. I was in the middle of the fighting when I met your mother. I was fighting hand to hand with Fey, stepping over bodies to do so."

  "It was a different war," Arianna said.

  "That's right." Her father turned. He looked old and exhausted. His face had sunken in on itself. "It was an easier war. If we lose now, we lose everything. So we have to risk everything. The Fey are already doing that for us. We may as well take the veneer off of it and look at it for what it is."

  "Where are the others, Daddy?" she asked.

  "Monte's leading them into a counterattack."

  "But there's more of them than us. That can't work. It's — "

  "It works. And has worked in the past. I spent years studying military techniques after your mother died. Lord Stowe has a lot of books on the matters. The peasants lost the Uprising even though they had a superior force, did you know that?"

  "Of course I know that. We had better weapons."

  Her father shook his head. "We had the same weapons, and we had, at first, less desire. We had a smaller force, but a smarter commander. He knew how to turn the advantage to us. That's what Monte and I are trying to do now."

  "Why won't you tell me what's going to happen?"

  "Because you'll see it in a moment," her father said.

  Arianna wiped her hand over her face. Sebastian touched her arm. She glanced at him. He was frowning, exposing all the cracks in his skin. "It … is … a … good … plan."

  Arianna sighed. She couldn't get the flames, and the images of all those bodies out of her mind. "What happens if it fails?" she asked. "We're unprotected up here."

  Her father turned. "We're not unprotected," he said. He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. "We have the best protection of all. Your mother's protection."

  "My mother is dead."

  "Your mother gave us the protection of her family."

&nb
sp; "But the Shaman says you might not be able to claim it."

  "But you can," her father said. "The events of this day have shown me, Arianna, that saving Blue Isle might be entirely up to you."

  She bowed her head. "I can't — "

  "You can," he said. "You might have to. This is what you were arguing for last night. You're stronger than all of us. You'll do what's right."

  "I hope so," she whispered. She didn't feel stronger. She felt as if she had lost her whole world. Everything except the two men with her. She couldn't bear to lose them.

  She took Sebastian's hand. He put his arm around her. "It … will … be … all … right," he said, trying to comfort her. "I … will … al-ways … be … be-side … you."

  "Promise?" she asked, suddenly needing his reassurance as much as he had once needed hers.

  " … Pro-mise … " he said. "By … all … I … am, … I … pro-mise."

  SIXTY

  He only had to check the map once.

  It seemed all passageways ultimately ended at the palace.

  Con ran through the darkness, torch before him, heart pounding. Those dirty strangers in the large cavern, and the former Aud, had terrified him. He had been afraid that they were part Fey and would stop him, or worse, even though he couldn't quite imagine what worse would be. All he knew was that they left him with the feeling he was late, too late to do anything, that his crawl through the bridge had been for nothing.

  The passages through here were as dirty and cobwebby as the bridge tunnel had been. No one had been through this area in a long, long time. That reassured him a little, but didn't allow him to slow his pace. He kept glancing over his shoulder, afraid that the others were following him.

  Afraid of what they would do when they caught him.

  The former Aud terrified him the most. He was an obviously learned man, injured, and living like a rat beneath the river. Was this how the sacrilegious ended up? Shells of people, strewn like dirt, in the abandoned tunnels of society?

 

‹ Prev