The Black Queen (Book 6) (48 page)

This woman would be useful in more ways than one. “How much time would this save me?” Gift asked.

“The trip from Btsan to Tashco by sea will save you one month alone. I have no idea how much time it will save from your trip to Blue Isle, but if the maps I’ve seen are even slightly accurate, Tashco is closer to the Isle than any port in Nye, and that portion of the trip has the added benefit of keeping you out of hostile territory.”

“Hostile?” he asked, and at the look on her face, stopped before adding,
I thought everything was part of the Empire.

“How long were you hiding among the Shaman?” she asked.

“I was studying,” he said, “for five years.”

That wasn’t a good enough answer. He could see it in her face. She was beginning to think him an idiot. “The Co have always hated the Fey, and lately they’ve been more aggressive about it. They would love to have the Black Heir in their territory. Your sister would get a message from them with a bit of your ear, maybe, or a finger, demanding ransom. If they decided to let you live. They might kill you and see what happened from there.”

“I take it the Co aren’t the only ones?”

“Is this a game?” she asked. “Or a test? Because I hate tests.”

“It’s neither,” he said. He may as well admit to her now how little he knew. She would learn it on the journey anyway. “I was raised on Blue Isle, outside of the Black Family. When my sister took control, she took it after Rugad’s death without his prior training. While she spent time studying the Empire, my training hasn’t been that formal. I’ve only picked up what I’ve learned in my travels.”

“And obviously the Shaman taught you nothing.”

His smile was bitter. “They taught me less than nothing. But they did manage to introduce me to some things that surprised me.”

Skya looked pointedly at Xihu. “Yet you travel with one.”

“Xihu has volunteered to serve as Shaman to my family. We’ve been without Domestic Vision for a long time.”

“So she will be traveling with us.”

Gift clasped his hands behind his back. “Do you object to that?”

“I don’t like Shaman. They get in the way with their Visions and their pronouncements and their rules.”

Her words hung in the air for a moment, then Gift said, as calmly as he could, “You’ll be traveling with two Visionaries. And you’ll have to listen to my pronouncements, and follow my rules.”

This time her cheeks flushed. “I didn’t mean—”

“Yes, you did,” he said. “And I’m beginning to understand why you don’t Ward.” The Spell Warders had more rules about behavior than any other group of Fey.

She jutted out her pointed chin. “Do you still want me?”

Gift’s mouth opened slightly. Want her? He warmed at the possibility. But he answered the question the way she meant it. “Jalung says you’re the best guide in Ghitlus. You’ve already saved me a month, maybe more. Of course I want you.”

There was more warmth in his voice than he intended. The double entendre caught them both.

Her flush deepened. “We haven’t talked payment.”

“We haven’t decided how far you’ll guide us.”

“I can take you to Tashco, and find you a good Navigator and several Sailors for the ship.”

“You claim to have seen maps,” Gift said. “I don’t know of any Fey maps that include Blue Isle, and the Nyeian maps only go from Blue Isle to Nye.”

She licked her lips, a clearly nervous gesture. “They’re not Fey maps.”

“I believe I just said that.”

She was breathing hard now. “They’re from Dorovich.”

“I don’t believe I’ve ever heard of Dorovich,” Gift said.

She glanced at Jalung, who looked as confused as Gift felt, and Xihu, who seemed slightly worried. “Dorovich,” Skya said. “It’s not part of the Empire.”

Gift felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. “Really? Is it a city or a country?”

“A continent.”

“And why do they have accurate maps of Galinas and Blue Isle?”

She shrugged. “I just saw the maps. I didn’t draw them.”

“Have you been to Dorovich?”

“No,” she said. “I haven’t been out of the Empire.”

“Then where did you see the maps?”

“Tashco,” she said. “A Co trader had them.”

“Co,” Gift said. “The people who so dislike the Fey.”

“Yes.”

“And how recently was this?”

She shrugged. “A year ago, maybe more.”

He stared at her for a moment. She no longer thought him an idiot, that much was clear. None of them did. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel like an impostor. He felt like a man who was close to the throne.

A man who wasn’t happy with what he was hearing.

“You expect me to base my travels on a foreign map made by people who are not native to this region?”

“Yes,” she said.

At least she didn’t try to justify it. She wasn’t trying to justify anything.

“How do you know the map is accurate?”

“Because it is in other parts.”

“So you’ve met people from Dorovich?”

“No,” she said. “But I have the map.”

“Here?”

“No,” she said. “But we can pick it up along the way. If you still want me.”

Again that phrase. This time, he answered her. “I want you,” he said, his voice deliberately husky.

Her eyes widened, and she ducked her head. She had apparently thought she had misunderstood him the last time. There was no mistaking him now.

He was a bit surprised at himself. He had never spoken to a woman this way, never felt this instant attraction, or this instant challenge.

“I will be your guide, and that’s it,” she said.

He feigned surprise. “Isn’t that what we’re discussing?”

She took in a sharp breath. “Do you expect me to guard you as well as guide you or will you be hiring someone else for that?”

“I can take care of myself,” he said.

“Forgive me,” she said, not sounding contrite at all, “but you have Domestic training, not warrior training, and while I’m good, I can’t be everywhere. A Shaman is worthless in some of the areas we’re going to. You kill first and ask questions later.”

“I can take care of myself,” Gift said again.

“I don’t want to get blamed for your death,” Skya said.

“Believe me,” Gift said. “No one will even know you’re with the Black Heir.”

“Of course they’ll know,” she said. “You come in here, announce yourself, make everyone bow to you. That kind of behavior is not common.”

He let himself smile. “That’s a good thing, considering my family are the only ones who should be behaving like that.”

“That’s not what I meant,” she said.

Gift ignored that. “If you’re as good a guide as Jalung says, then we don’t need to tell anyone who I am, at least, not until we get to Tashco.”

She sighed. “If we do that, I can’t get you the proper accommodations. They’re just not available to the average traveler.”

“I don’t care about the accommodations,” he said. “All I want to do is get home as quickly as possible.”

Something crossed her face, some flicker of suspicion? anger? He wasn’t sure. She turned to Jalung. “Would you leave us for a moment, and close the door?”

Jalung inclined her head, as if she felt uncomfortable not bowing, and then left. After a moment, the wooden door closed, its bang echoing in the room.

Skya walked toward him until she was an arm’s length away from him. “I cannot be party,” she said, “to the overthrow of the Black Queen, no matter who you are, no matter what your reasons.”

“What makes you assume I want to overthrow my sister?” Gift asked.

“You didn’t come to study Shamanism. You came to visit the Black Throne, and now that you have its approval, you want to put yourself on that Throne.”

“Interesting assumption,” Gift said. “And how would you see yourself helping in this illegal overthrow?”

“By getting you there quickly, before your sister know what you’ve done.”

“I see.” Out of the corner of his eye, Gift could see Xihu. She was sitting on one of the benches, legs out, as if she were enjoying the show. “I admire your ethics. I don’t see ethics like that very often.”

Skya’s face went completely blank. “Making fun of me won’t—”

“I’m not making fun of you.” Gift took her arm. The silk of her robe was soft, the layers thick. He couldn’t actually feel her arm through the fabric. He pulled her closer, until their faces nearly touched. She didn’t flinch. He had thought she would.

Her eyes were a dark brown, her skin flawless. He wanted to rub the back of his hand along her cheek.

“I admire your concern,” he said so softly that he doubted Xihu could hear him. “I wasn’t making fun of you. I was complimenting you. I have told you the truth—or as much of it as I know. I did study Shamanism, and now I have a family emergency that I must tend to.”

“Something happened to the Throne,” she said.

He tried not to let his surprise show. “What makes you say that?”

“I am still a Warder, even if I chose not to practice in the acceptable methods. I felt a ripple and so I pinpointed its source.” She blinked once, her long lashes just brushing the tops of her cheeks. “Warders are the only Fey who can do that, you know. Identify the source of a magick.”

He put his other hand on her other arm, mostly to stop himself from touching that magnificent face. “I do know something about the Fey.”

“I wasn’t certain. I—”

He put a finger on her lips. They were generous and warm. He could feel her breath against his skin. “I touched the Throne and rejected it. That’s what you felt. The violent reaction the Throne had to my rejection.”

She removed his finger from her lips. But she didn’t let go of his hand. Instead, she wrapped it inside her own, and held it against her shoulder. The gesture was intimate, and Gift didn’t move for fear of destroying the moment.

“You’re a Visionary,” she said, and it was clear to him she was finally beginning to understand. “You’re hurrying to Blue Isle because of something you Saw.”

“Yes.”

“And you won’t tell me what that is?”

He let out a small breath. She was Charming him, and it nearly worked because she was not a Charmer but a Warder, with tiny bits of all magick. Most Charmers angered Visionaries; the Charmer’s magick never worked on true Leaders. But apparently Charm itself did.

He leaned forward and kissed her. She tasted sweet as she kissed him back, apparently thinking he was still under her Charm. He let his free hand slip into her hair, taking it from its bun and setting it loose down her back. He wondered how far she would take this to find out what he knew, who he really was, what he needed from her.

Then he ended the kiss, and pressed his forehead against hers. “Mmm,” he said. “You’re very good.”

His hand was still wrapped around her own. She tilted her head toward him, apparently willing to Charm him farther. He was tempted to let her do so, but he didn’t. He needed her at his side—she had already proven invaluable—and he didn’t want her to angry at him.

He slid his other hand from her hair to caress her cheek. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Xihu stand. He would wager she knew what was going on, and that she was getting ready to put an end to it.

“Very good,” he whispered. “But a little bit of Charm in the hands of a talented Warder doesn’t match my Vision. It’s nice to know you have this ability, though. We’ll be able to use it.”

She disengaged herself from him so fast that he almost lost his balance. Then she cursed him in three different languages, her dark eyes flashing.

Xihu sat down. Gift laughed. Skya stopped swearing and stood, legs spread, arms crossed. “You had no right—”

“No right?” Gift asked, his laughter fading. “If you had tried that trick on my grandfather Rugar, he would have had you killed. I shudder to think what my great-grandfather would have done.”

“So you’re going to punish me?”

“Depends,” Gift said. “If you consider traveling with me and Xihu punishment, then yes, I will. If you look forward to the trip, it won’t be punishment at all.”

“You’re not what I expected,” she said.

“And neither are you.”

“I had a right to know what you were asking me to do,” she said.

“I told you exactly what I wanted.” Gift’s hands were still tingling from the touch of her skin. This reaction wasn’t simple Charm. It was more. It was a real reaction to her. “You could accept or decline my offer to hire you. And that’s as far as this transaction had to go.”

“You touched the Black Throne.”

“Indeed, I did,” he said. “Unwillingly, at the urging of another. And then I rejected the Throne. And it released some sort of power in the form of light.”

“You’re going to warn your sister of that?”

Gift stared at her for a moment. Then he sighed. “This interview is done. We will not require your services.”