The Black Queen (Book 6) (36 page)

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Authors: Kristine Kathryn Rusch

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BOOK: The Black Queen (Book 6)
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“Tis you they need,” she said. “I canna do it alone, Matthias.”

“Yes, you can,” he said. “The last thing you need is a crazy husband who’ll be little more than an infant soon. I could live for another forty years. If I do that and get worse, as I have been, then what? You’ll have no life.”

“I have no life without ye,” she said. “Matthias, please.”

He kissed her again. “Let me go, Marly.” His words were soft. “Tell me you understand. Please. I know you do.”

She bowed her head. Tears dripped off her face. Alex was squeezing his own hands so hard that his fingers ached.

“I canna convince ye,” she said. “I never could. Ye’d always been the man ye said ye were, and ye always were fair with me.” She took a deep breath and stood up straight. Alex had never realized before that his parents were of a height. “Well, then. Ye gave me the best years of me life, Matthias.”

“And some of the worst,” he said with a smile.

“N I wouldna trade em for the world. Go with God, then, and if somethin heals ye in the Roca’s Cave, come back to me.”

Alex’s father caressed her face. “I never knew what I did to deserve you,” he said. “But I’m thankful for it, every day of my life.”

Then he looked over her head at Alex. “Tell your brother to remember what I taught him.” His gaze softened. “And you, take care of your mother. She needs you.”

Then he bent his head, kissed Alex’s mother one last time, and turned away from both of them. Without a look back, he walked into the Vault.

“Where’s he going?” Alex asked.

“Tis a small tunnel, hidden, in the back a that room,” his mother said. “He dinna want me to tell ye about it. He dinna want anaone to know. But tis too late for that now. The tunnel leads into the mountain. He’s gone there before.”

“When he killed the Black King.”

His mother nodded, her eyes filled with tears. “Tis ye n Matt he’s doin this for.”

“No,” Alex said. “We have nothing to do with it. He doesn’t want to be crazy any more.”

His mother didn’t seem to hear him. She walked to the small wooden door that led into the Vault. She put her hand on the frame and stared inside.

“Go with God,” she whispered again. “Go with God.”

 

 

 

 

EIGHTEEN

 

 

IT FELT AS IF she were climbing out of a long dark tunnel. Arianna kept her eyes closed for a moment, feeling an exhaustion that she had never felt before. It was as if she had been struggling for days, fighting against a giant hand determined to hold her down, keep her in a dark place where she couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t even think.

The giant hand had relaxed for a moment, and she leaped past it. The breath in her lungs was her own. Her body lay at an odd angle, and her left arm was asleep. Her right leg had an ache in the knee; she had been in this position too long.

She didn’t want to open her eyes—so much of her wanted to sink back into that exhaustion—but she did.

She was on her bed. Sunlight was falling across it. She had been talking to Seger, she thought, telling her about the awful day Rugad had taken her mind, the day Sebastian had saved her and then shattered, the day she had met Coulter. What had changed?

Arianna had a vague memory of struggling, fighting to get out words. Words about—

Her brain skittered over the thought, and she felt a lancing pain, as if someone had stuck a pin in a sensitive portion of her mind. She winced and forced herself to sit up.

Something was very wrong with her.

She put a hand to her head and moaned just a little. A rustle beside her made her stop. Luke had been standing by the window, looking into the garden. Apparently he hadn’t realized she was awake until she made a sound.

He looked awkward and uncomfortable, as if he had been caught doing something wrong. He came over to the side of the bed and sat in a chair that hadn’t been there before, a chair someone had placed there.

“Seger asked me to stay with you,” he said. He reached out toward her with his blunt, scarred fingers, then pulled his hand back as if there was something improper in his compassion. “How are you?”

Arianna let her own hand fall to her side. The pain inside her mind—it wasn’t a headache so much as something that stabbed her from within—was easing now.

“I did it again, didn’t I? I lost time.”

He nodded.

“What did I do to you this time?”

“Nothing,” he said. “Seger got me. Talking with you helped her realize what was happening. Apparently you told her something—”

The baby
. The thought came unbidden, and right on its heels, another stabbing pain. She had to close her eyes. It felt as if the needle that was piercing her would come out of her eyeballs if she didn’t protect them somehow. She held back a moan, and made herself concentrate.

The baby
. She could picture him now, a little boy no more than a few hours old. He had been crying. She had picked—

Another stab. She had to bite the inside of her cheek to prevent herself from crying out.
Concentrate.

Concentrate
.

—picked him up and cradled him to herself, carrying him with her—

The pain was getting so bad that she was going to black out if she continued doing this, continued remembering it. Luke was still speaking to her, and even though she heard his voice, she wasn’t sure what he was saying.

Concentrate
.

—carrying him with her to the center part of herself, the place where she dwelt, where she ran everything—

Black spots danced before her eyes. She clenched her right fist and felt the fingernails dig into her skin. Tears were running down her cheeks and she concentrated on their wetness as a way of avoiding the pain.

—carrying him with her to the center part of herself—

Another stab.

Concentrate
.

—and she never saw him again.

The pain released her, and she fell back against the pillow. The sharpness was gone, but there was still an echo of it, a feeling that if she tried to think again, the pain would be back, and it would be worse. How could she concentrate on something without hurting herself? Obviously this was an important memory, something that held the key to everything that was happening to her.

She opened her eyes. Luke was standing beside her—hovering was a better word—holding a linen handkerchief, and obviously trying to decide to wipe her face with it. She solved his problem; she wiped the tears off her cheeks and chin with the back of her hand.

“What happened?” he asked.

She had never seen him look so unnerved. His pale face was even paler, his blue eyes seemed almost glassy, and he had bitten through his lower lip. She felt a moment of compassion for him: people used to taking action felt so helpless when faced with illness, something internal, something they couldn’t bludgeon or threaten or beat up.

“Pain,” she whispered, her voice a mere croak.

“Do you want me to send for Seger?”

“Yes,” she said. “You go.”

“I can’t,” he said. “I’m under orders not to leave you alone.”

“Hers or mine?” Arianna asked.

“Both, if you’ll remember.”

If you’ll remember. She gave that order before, but had she given it again? These blackouts made her question herself and that wasn’t good.

In fact, it was the worst thing a ruler could do
.

That thought came in Fey, in another voice, almost like someone else was speaking inside her head. Still, she looked about the room, just to see if there was another speaker.

The bedroom door was closed. She and Luke were alone. No wonder he had looked so uncomfortable when she woke.

“What just happened?” he asked.

She couldn’t answer that. She couldn’t answer anything. Could Sebastian handle the day to day business of the Isle until Gift returned? She didn’t know. Seger had been worried about him to, with that mysterious voice.

Rugad’s voice.

Another stab of pain, this one not with a needle but with a knife. She hunched over, clutched her head, bit back a scream.

Get out of me,
she thought.
Someone please get him out.

A laugh, this one inside her head once more, echoing as if it were in an empty room.
You invited me in, little girl,
the voice said in Fey, and now she knew it for what it was. Rugad’s voice. Rugad. He had left a part of himself in her mind.

Very good
, he thought.
Very, very good. It only took you fifteen years to figure that out.

Get out of my mind
, she thought.

I couldn’t if I wanted to.
He sounded wryly amused. She closed her eyes, actually saw him, a lanky teenage Fey boy with long dark hair and a handsome face. Rugad’s face—the old man’s face—had not been handsome. It had been a strong face, with its high cheekbones and dramatic eyebrows, but it had been an unkind face, the sort of face that no one would turn to for romance or comfort. This boyish face held promises that it would never fulfill—the promise of love, the promise of hope, the promise of a life well lived. It held the promise, as well, of the face that Arianna remembered, but she found it fascinating that he could have chosen another way.

Stared long enough?
he asked.

I didn’t expect to see you
, she said.

Of course not. You have an amazing gift for forgetting the unpleasant
.

She didn’t forget how he had felt in her mind the first time, a whirlwind determined to destroy her, to bend her to his own will.

And I will achieve that
, he said.

She gasped, felt the air run through her body, as well as heard the reaction in her mind. Luke actually touched her shoulder. She wanted to shake him off, to warn him—

I’m not interested in that man,
Rugad said.
I already have you.

She crossed her arms. She found she existed in two places: within her mind as a small being that could stand and fight and move around, and within her body as she had always known it. When she crossed her arms, the small being crossed hers while the large body did as well.

You lost the last time you faced me in here. I Shifted until I could control you.

He smiled. It was a beautiful smile. Early on, then, in his rule, he had combined the natural leadership abilities of a Fey Visionary with the charisma of a handsome man. It surprised her. She had always thought him the embodiment of evil.

She suppressed a sigh. He had probably heard that too.

Of course,
he said.
You are drawn to me because I am part of you. You cannot throw me out this time, neither you nor your Golem. You willingly took me to the part of you that controls everything and I grew there. I am you now. I can Shift you at will, make you say what I want, do as I say.

If that’s true,
she said,
then why haven’t you taken complete control?

She felt a whisper then, a moment when he didn’t control, a bit of an answer floating by her. So that was what her thoughts felt like to him. Only he knew how to control his.

His smile grew wider.
I am a trained Visionary, with 92 years of life in my own body, and 15 more years of life in yours. I know the edges and corners of the magick, things you never bothered to learn, and things you can’t even imagine.

He held out his hands to her, and there was something warm about him, something about his energy that made him draw her to him.

Together
, he said,
we would be the most formidable team the Fey have ever known. We would take the Triangle, and no one would know until it was done. You and I would lead our people to greatness
.

No,
she said.
I don’t believe in making war. I’ve seen what it does. It destroys everything.

It is necessary to our way of life.

To yours,
she said.
Not mine. I am retraining the Empire, teaching them how to grow with what they have. The expansion would eventually destroy it.

His eyes narrowed and his hands dropped. The warm feeling of welcome was gone.
You have no understanding of what we are
.

It was her turn to smile.
I do. You have no idea of what you had become
.

We are a warrior people. Take that away from us, and we will turn upon each other. I am preventing that.

And when there are no more lands to conquer?
Ariannaasked.
What then?

We will have the Triangle
, he said.
The power that comes from it is unimaginable.

How does anyone know if no one has seen it?

His dark eyes narrowed, as if he were contemplating telling her. Then he said,
I have had Visions of it.

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