The Black King (Book 7) (33 page)

Bridge had never expected to be thrown out of the palace. He had thought that Arianna might send him back to his position in Nye. He’d never expected to lose that position completely.

Perhaps he should have. Lyndred had told him that Arianna had brought an Assassin into the North Tower while Lyndred was there. The message was clear: Arianna could find a way to destroy them if she wanted to. That she hadn’t was evidence that she still thought them useful somehow.

“I’m going, Daddy,” Lyndred said. “You can do what you want, but I think we’re better off on the ship.”

He stared at the masts. There were more than he was used to. “I think we should just leave Blue Isle and go back home.”

He had never referred to Nye as home before, but he guessed it was the closest thing he’d ever had. He hated the place, but he felt safer there. And his daughter would be safer too.

“What can we do on Nye?” Lyndred asked. “At least here we might have a chance.”

“A chance for what, honey?” He had his hand on the rope railing. The deck of the ship looked very far away. “A chance to overthrow a Black Queen we don’t like? A chance to be banished just like Gift? What sort of chance do you see?”

“I think Gift might find a way to force her to step down.”

“And what if he does? Are you hoping that something will happen to him? Are you hoping that you’ll be able to step into his place?”

Lyndred gave him a withering look. “I’m worried about the Empire.”

“So am I.”

She ignored him, starting up the ramp instead. It shook beneath her weight. She didn’t look back, and the implication was clear. He could do what he wanted.
She
was going onto this ship.

He sighed and followed her.

A Nyeian met them on the deck. Bridge thought it odd that Nyeian sailors would be on a Tashil ship. Then he remembered the Co clothing of the woman Gift had introduced as his guide. This was a diverse crew, filled with people from all over the Empire. In some ways, Lyndred was right. Gift knew more about the Empire than Arianna ever could. Gift, at least, had traveled across the length and breadth of it, and understood there were a hundred different cultures, co-existing uneasily under Fey rule.

“I have no instructions to allow you aboard,” the Nyeian was saying to Lyndred.

“You don’t need instructions,” she said. “I’m the Black Heir’s cousin. I should be—”

Bridge put a hand on her arm. She had never dealt with Nyeians who weren’t used to following her orders. “I’m sorry. My daughter can be rude. Would you please let Gift know that we’re here? I’m his Uncle Bridge and this is my daughter, Lyndred.”

The Nyeian glared at her before nodding to Bridge. Then the Nyeian snapped his fingers, and another Nyeian hurried to his side.

“See that these people don’t get on board,” the first Nyeian said. “I’ll be right back.”

He headed to the deck house. The second Nyeian stood in front of them, arms crossed. He was muscular, and it wouldn’t take much for him to toss both Bridge and Lyndred into the river.

“Why did you do that?” Lyndred whispered. “I can handle it.”

Bridge just looked at her. After a moment, she looked away.

A movement on deck caught his eye. A Gull Rider, sitting on the railing, peered at them. The Rider looked familiar. Bridge squinted, saw the tiny Fey face on the torso on the Rider’s back, and realized he was looking at Ace. Was that the reason Lyndred wanted to come here? Because she hadn’t given up on her Gull Rider?

He hoped it was more than that.

Lyndred didn’t see Ace. But Ace realized that Bridge was looking at him. Ace took a small running start and flew off the ship.

The Nyeian returned. “You can come aboard.”

He opened the small gate built into the deck—another Tashil feature—and Lyndred walked through it like she was the Black Queen. As Bridge walked through, he thanked the man.

Gift was watching from the door to the deck house. His face was drawn, his eyes rimmed with shadows. He looked thinner than he had two days before.

“I didn’t expect to see you again,” he said to Lyndred.

“We’ve been thrown out.” She sounded proud. Bridge looked at her. She wanted to impress her cousin.

“I don’t believe you.” Gift’s arms were crossed and he leaned against the wooden housing. His posture said that he didn’t want anything to do with them.

“It’s true,” Bridge said. “Arianna knew Lyndred had visited you.”

“Of course she did. It’s the perfect set-up. She warns me that I’m being watched, then she sends Lyndred here to talk with me, then she pretends to throw Lyndred out, so that you can come here, and find out what our plans are.”

“Arianna banished you,” Lyndred said. “I think she knows what your plans are.”

“My daughter has a point. Unless Arianna is worried about something else, something I don’t understand, then she should have no real interest in what you’re doing.”

Gift sighed and leaned his head back against the wood. He seemed very tired. For a moment he said nothing. Then he brought his head down again. “What do you want?”

Bridge turned to his daughter. This had been her idea. She had to speak for them.

She looked at him and raised a shoulder. He knew the gesture.
You tell him, Daddy.
Only Bridge wasn’t going to say anything.

Gift stared at her. He was very still. Bridge had the sense that Gift would wait until one of them spoke. It had to be the Shamanic training. Most Fey didn’t have that kind of patience.

“Um,” Lyndred started, then glanced at her father again. “We were hoping—”

Bridge cleared his throat.

She stopped, licked her lips, and started again. “
I
was hoping we could go with you.”

“Why would you want to do that?” Gift asked. “Have you been banished as well?”

“Kind of,” Lyndred said.

She was still trying to impress him. Bridge had no patience for it. “We’ve been ordered to leave Blue Isle. We can go anywhere we want in the Empire, but we’ll never have any status. Arianna wants us as far from her and as powerless as possible.”

“Without forcing you to leave the Empire.”

“I would see it as a compliment to you,” Bridge said. “We’re an annoyance. You’re a threat.”

“Oh, I’m supremely honored. I can’t think of a higher honor I’d rather have her bestow.” Gift pushed off the wall he’d been leaning on, and stood up straight. “Take your ship and go back to Nye. No one will bother you there.”

“I don’t think it’s that simple,” Bridge said.

“Oh? Afraid you might have to work with the people you mistreated all these years?”

“My father didn’t mistreat anyone,” Lyndred said. “If you’d come to Nye, you would have known that.”

Gift studied her as if he hadn’t expected her to come to anyone’s defense. “I’m not in the position to take on two additional mouths to feed. I am not sure what I’m going to do with my own crew.”

“You’ll need us,” Lyndred said.

“Oh?” Gift raised his eyebrows. “You can sail a ship?”

“No,” she said. “But I’ve—we’ve—been with Arianna a long time. I might know some things you don’t.”

“You seem to assume that I’m going head-to-head with my sister.”

Bridge noticed that Gift didn’t deny it while at the same time making it sound improbable.

“I think you’d be foolish not to. She’s Blind. Besides, as your friend said, you might try to get her to leave without resorting to violence.” Lyndred sounded enthusiastic. For the first time in his memory, Bridge was embarrassed for his daughter.

Gift shook his head. “This isn’t natural. No one should be talking about a Black Queen this way.”

“Then maybe you should see it as a sign—” Lyndred started, but Bridge grabbed her arm.

“Shut up,” he said.

She did. He never spoke to her that way.

“I’m sorry, Gift,” he said. “My daughter has been struggling with Arianna for the past six months. Arianna thought she could rely on Lyndred’s Vision. Lyndred has gotten it into her head that Arianna is Blind. It’s created quite a conflict.”

“And now you want me to take you in, conflict and all.” Gift didn’t sound too eager.

“No,” Bridge said. “My daughter hoped you would. She believes in you, although she’s not showing it well. Frankly, I’m not sure why. Your options are limited and any path you take is dangerous.”

“I know that.” Gift ran a hand through his dark hair. He looked amazingly like Arianna, but his face was softer, and his blue eyes lacked the cruel edge that made Arianna seem so formidable. “What do you think of my sister?”

“She wasn’t what I expected,” Bridge said.

Gift let his hand drop. His gaze was on Bridge now, and it was intense. “What did you expect?”

“Someone who was more compassionate. Someone who had a commitment to peace. I expected her to be more like my sister, Jewel, only without the warrior’s stance. And I thought she’d act more like a Shifter—emotional, a bit mercurial on the surface, strong and solid underneath.”

If anything, Gift’s eyes grew bluer. He stared at Bridge. “You just described my sister.”

Bridge shook his head. “No, I didn’t. Your sister is nothing like that. She stands like a warrior. She calls peace a rest between battles. She is harsh and has no compassion at all.”

“I know,” Gift said. “But what you expected, the woman you thought you were going to meet, that is my sister, Arianna.”

“They say she went through quite a change just before we got here,” Bridge said.

Gift glanced over Bridge’s shoulder. Without turning, Bridge knew where he was looking. The palace. There was no longing in his face, only a sadness, as if Arianna had died. “What do you think happened to her?”

“She says she finally came to her senses and understood what ruling was all about.” Bridge shrugged. “I have to admit, one of the reasons I came here was because I disagreed with her policies. In Galinas, bands of young warrior Fey roam in the countryside. They’re hard to control when there’s no war. Our people aren’t meant for peace.”

“So you agree with her new policies.” The intensity left Gift’s eyes.

“No,” Bridge said, and even Lyndred looked at him. “I thought perhaps she hadn’t considered the effect of peace on the warrior class. It’s not that they’re bored by lack of fighting, it’s that they’re born to fight. It’s in their blood and not to provide it means their magick tortures them. I wanted her to find a solution for that. I thought maybe going on to Leut might be good, but I wasn’t sure. I was willing to talk with her.”

Gift’s face was impassive. He was watching Bridge closely.

“But when I got here, she wanted nothing to do with family. She didn’t want to see anyone, and she only admitted us into the palace when she found out that Lyndred had Vision.”

“So you hold to the Blind theory?” Gift asked.

Bridge sighed. He had been thinking about that a great deal and come to no conclusions. “I’m not sure. She’s savvy, and she’s clearly had Visions before. My father went for years without a Vision. Perhaps that’s what’s happening to her, and she isn’t ready for it.”

Gift nodded. It seemed he’d thought of those things as well.

“No,” Lyndred said. “She’s Blind. I know it.”

Gift didn’t even glance at her. “Have you ever experienced a personality change like this before?”

“I didn’t know it was a change until you arrived. Up until that point, I thought the rumors I’d heard about her were wrong.”

“But you interviewed the servants,” Gift said. “You tried to find out what happened.”

Bridge shrugged. “It’s my method.”

“Arianna is worried about me, about the Blood, and I’m worried about the same thing,” Gift said. “I could use an older and wiser council.”

Lyndred glanced at her father. Bridge tried to ignore the feeling growing inside his chest. No one had ever considered him important before.

“You’ve been around Rugad when he was Black King. Your father was being groomed to be Black King and so was your sister, my mother,” Gift said. “You’ve seen a lot more of the traditional Fey world than I have. You probably know more.”

“I doubt that,” Bridge said.

Gift tilted his head. He had the look of them—the ones who had the talent, the heritage and the charisma to be ruler of the Fey. “In all these years, you’ve done nothing to take the Black Throne for yourself. Why?”

At last, the question. Bridge wouldn’t have stayed if Gift hadn’t asked it. Arianna had not asked it, which, Bridge suddenly realized, was strange given her paranoia.

“I have a small Vision,” Bridge said. “It was clear from the time I was a young man that I would never compare to my sister.”

“But it was my understanding that my mother didn’t come into her Vision until she came to Blue Isle.”

“She was taller than me,” Bridge said, hoping to end the conversation there.

Lyndred was watching him as if she hadn’t thought of these things either.

“She could have come into a different kind of magick.” Gift was smart, just like the others. Smart and compassionate. Jewel had had compassion.

Bridge smiled. “My sister was always a half-step better at everything than the rest of us were. She was more vibrant, more alive, and she commanded a loyalty even when we were children. The more I’ve watched this family, the more I realize that the best rulers command that loyalty, at least when they are young.”

“When they are young?” Gift repeated. He missed nothing.

“I think my grandfather commanded that loyalty for the first twenty years or more of his reign as Black King. Those warriors who were with him from the beginning would do anything for him. I think the years of rule and the harshness he used wore that charisma away, and in the later years he had to use force and intimidation instead of warmth.”

“So did your father,” Gift said.

Bridge started. He had forgotten that Gift had known his father. Gift had been a young boy when Rugar died here on Blue Isle. “I’m surprised you remember him.”

“He stole me from my parents and would have raised me himself if he could,” Gift said. “Fortunately, he died before he had too great an effect.”

Bridge stared at Gift. Was the difference between Gift and Arianna that slight? That one had been raised—however briefly—by a potential Black King and the other had been raised by an Islander. “Perhaps he had a positive effect.”