Sacrifice: The First Book of the Fey (77 page)

The two Islanders were talking softly in their own language. Jewel had found a Fey who understood Islander to translate. Rugar could understand none of it. Jewel was listening intently to the translation, her mouth curving downward as she did. Rugar put his hand on Jewel’s arm. “Enough of this mawkishness,” he said.

Jewel nodded once; then she glanced at him. “It would work better,” she said, “if you stopped the proceedings instead of me.”

It would look as if he had the power, as if she were trying to stop him. He understood the game, but he never quite knew how to think up twists for himself. Perhaps that was why his father was relieved to see him go. With Rugar out of the way, someone with a more devious mind could rule the Fey.

He stepped forward and clapped his hands.

“In Nye,” she reminded him softly, so softly that no one else could hear her.

“Enough!” he said, his Nye harsh and accented. He never could lose the accent, which always annoyed him. He had a mind for warfare, not for the delicacies of speech. “Any more of this talk and the boy stays.”

The boy actually shot Jewel a mooncalf look, which his father, fortunately, did not see. The father had turned toward Jewel almost in supplication, but Rugar spread his feet and crossed his arms, staring down at them so that no one would argue with him. The father nodded once, although the movement seemed to be against his better judgment, and drew his son in close.

The boy’s expression was equally sad. It wasn’t as if they would never see each other again. Islanders—their sentimentality would be their weakness.

“Burden,” Rugar said in Nye. “Escort the boy to the edge of Jahn.”

Burden left Rugar’s side and took the boy by the shoulders, easing him away from his father. The father grabbed the boy’s arms as if he would not let go.

“Adrian,” Jewel said softly in Nye. “We had an agreement.”

The man caressed his son’s arms as he let go. Then he bit his lower lip and watched as Burden took the boy to the Circle Door. Burden chanted the opening spell for those without the ability to open the Door on their own. The Circle appeared wide and beckoning. Through it Rugar could see the black bark of the trees, the green of the forest floor, and a bit of blue sky. The scent of evergreen flowed in on the wind.

Burden stepped through the Circle Door, pulling the boy alongside him. The Door shimmered as the boy stepped through. The father took a step forward as the boy went through the Door. One of the Domestics grabbed his arm and held him in place. The Circle Door closed, and the man turned to Jewel.

“I’ll keep my part of the bargain,” he said in Nye, “but you’d better keep yours.”

“I keep my word,” Jewel said.

“I hope so,” the father said. A Domestic took his arm, and he followed her to the Domicile. Jewel and Rugar remained beside the Meeting Block.

“I hope you haven’t made a mistake,” Rugar said in Fey.

“I expected something from him,” Jewel said. “This was rather mild. I thought he might leap through the Door with his son.”

“And then what would you have done?” Rugar asked.

“Kill them both,” Jewel said without any emotion at all. Rugar glanced at her. She wasn’t just the Black King’s granddaughter. She was also his daughter. That ruthlessness was his.

Rugar smiled and put his hand on her shoulder, wishing for a moment for the closeness he had seen between the Islander father and son. Such affection had never been his way. “You’ve done well,” Rugar said.

“Thanks,” Jewel said. She put her hand on top of his. As she did, the Circle Door opened. Rugar turned. He could feel the sudden stiffness in Jewel’s shoulder. They both expected Burden to come back in to report a problem with the boy.

Instead Frill and Ipper stepped through. Frill was a boy who was so slender as to be almost frail. Ipper had been spying for Rugar since Rugar had taken his first command. He had the thickness of age, but a grace that the younger boy did not have. They were both frowning as they came through.

Rugar took his hand off Jewel’s shoulder. “Have you messages for me?” he asked.

Ipper nodded. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”

So the messages were not simple ones. Rugar sighed. He had been hoping for simple. Just an acknowledgment that the Doppelgängers were in the religious center would have been enough.

“My cabin,” he said. “Jewel, you’ll come with us.”

He led the way. The muscles in his shoulder were tight. They had been tight all year, and his stomach was growing more and more upset. He was tired of all this concern, all this lack of control. It was time that things turned in the direction of the Fey.

When Jewel reached their cabin, she bounded up the steps and opened the door. A faint odor of woodsmoke met them, even though the fire was out and the cabin dark. Jewel awoke the Fey Lamps as Rugar pulled out chairs. Ipper shut the door.

“All right,” Rugar said. “What is it?”

“Tel disappeared,” Frill said. He straddled the chair nearest the door, his long, sticklike legs extended before him.

“Disappeared?” Jewel asked.

Frill nodded. “He was supposed to meet me at midnight. I waited until dawn, when Ipper came and got me. Tel never showed.”

“Any possibility that you were in the wrong place or had the wrong time for the meeting?”

“We set up the meetings with Solanda before she left on her jaunt,” Ipper said. “Unless you believe she could get her information wrong.”

Rugar smiled. Solanda had a memory that was long and detailed. He knew that from personal experience. “She never gets her information wrong.”

“Quest showed for our meeting,” Ipper said. “And he had news.”

“Does he know the secret?” Rugar couldn’t keep the excitement from his voice.

“No.” Ipper pulled out his chair and sat down. “And his news wasn’t promising.”

“Oh, dear.” Jewel sat as well.

Rugar continued to stand. He would hear this all out.

“Quest managed to get into the Tabernacle, but he wasn’t able to become a Black Robe with a high rank. He figured he could get into position to do that better from the inside. The problem is that only two of the Black Robes know what’s in the poison—and they’re the ones who create it. They must touch it at all times. He isn’t even sure he can become one of them. He’s afraid he will die right away.”

“He’s checked this information?” Rugar asked. “He’s sure that his person doesn’t have the information wrong?”

“Oh, he’s sure. All the religious types know that learning the secret to the poison is one of the perks of that job. It is as if a Fey can switch his magickal talents as he becomes more experienced. It would be as if I learned Visions or how to be Solanda.” Ipper sighed. “I think, since Tel didn’t appear, that he tried to become one of the Black Robes and died.”

“Otherwise he would have been able to come see us,” said Frill. “He knows better than to miss a meeting. He hasn’t since we’ve come to Blue Isle and I’ve worked with him.”

Rugar swore under his breath. Of the six Doppelgängers he had brought along, three had died in that Tabernacle. Two had died in the palace. One remained at risk in that Tabernacle and might be dead even as this discussion took place.

“Papa?” Jewel said. Someone had been speaking to him.

“Sorry,” he said. “Thinking.”

“Forgive me, sir,” Ipper said, “but I’m thinking we should get Quest out of there. If he can’t learn anything without dying, then he’s not going to be of value to us.”

“I can’t think of a better place to have him at the moment,” Rugar said.

“But he’s the only Doppelgänger we have left,” Jewel said.

Rugar frowned. The anger had come back, thick and strong. He hated being trapped there. He hated being at the mercy of the Islanders’ poison. He needed to think his way out of this, but in a year of trying, he had come up with very little.

“When are you meeting him again?” Rugar said to Ipper.

“Tomorrow,” Ipper said. “He hoped he would have better news for us then.”

“Did he have a plan?” Rugar said.

Ipper shook his head. “Only that he would observe the two Black Robes who make the poison and see if it was a part of them. If it wasn’t, he would meet me in his new form.”

Rugar let out his breath slowly. It seemed nothing on this island was easy. “If he is in his new form, he will know the answer to the poison, am I right?”

Ipper nodded.

“If he’s not, he will have trouble or die getting the information.” Rugar glanced at Jewel. She was watching him intently. “When you meet him tomorrow, have him come back to Shadowlands.”

“No matter what?” Ipper asked.

“No matter what.” Rugar templed his fingers together. “If we can’t discover the secret to the poison this way, at least we’ll know who to torture to get it.”

SIXTY-FOUR

It had been weeks
since Alexander had been out of the palace. The wind ruffled his hair, and a strand fell in his eyes. He had borrowed one of Nicholas’s leather thongs to tie it back, but his hair was shorter than his son’s, and it didn’t stay as well.

He wore the breeches and tunic of his guards in an effort to be inconspicuous. Lord Stowe worried that the Fey might try to assassinate Alexander to weaken the morale of the Isle. While that might have been a serious crisis a year before, it wasn’t now. Nicholas had grown into his role as Prince, and he was ready to become King. If anything, Alexander’s death would rally his people to fight the Fey even harder.

Still, he went everywhere with a contingent of guards. Since he was going outside the palace this afternoon, the guards were all around him. Some had even been planted along the route. Just once he wished he had the freedom to go where he chose when he chose. But he did not. He was valuable, not just to himself, but to Blue Isle.

The keep was located at the back of the guards’ quarters, on the other side of the palace gate. The keep itself was isolated from the rest of the town by a row of trees, planted in a square around the building. Guards stood inside that grove of trees, watching the entrances anytime there was a prisoner. The punishments were very harsh, since the guards used this building to discipline their own.

When Monte had come to him saying that they had a Fey prisoner whom Monte did not want to bring to the dungeons, Alexander’s senses went on alert. Any captured Fey disappeared in captivity—or, if they lacked the ability to do that, they found a way to kill themselves. No Fey prisoners taken in any of the battles and skirmishes had come back to Jahn alive.

Nicholas had wanted to interrogate the prisoner himself, but Alexander wouldn’t allow it. He had heard that the Fey could charm and enchant, and he suspected that such a thing had already happened to Nicholas when he’d met the female Fey the day of the invasion. Nicholas, because of his youth and inexperience, might be too susceptible to this kind of magick. Alexander shouldn’t be interrogating the prisoner himself, but he wanted to judge whether the prisoner was bluffing or not. Alexander planned to maintain as much distance between himself and the prisoner as possible.

When he reached the keep, he found Monte waiting for him at the door. Alexander handed one of his guards a vial of holy water and kept his distance while the guard tested Monte. Then Monte nodded, and Alexander followed him, stepping inside.