The Black Queen (Book 6) (24 page)

“Then what is the point of a prophecy?” Gift asked. “The Mysteries and Powers give us ability to see the future, and they provide us with prophecy. Isn’t that to help us avoid the problems ahead?”

“Or is it to help us prepare for them?” Xihu asked.

“Now you understand why there is debate,” Perdom said.

“The prophecy also says,” Kerde said as if the others hadn’t spoken, “that when the light shoots forth from the Throne, the Fey will no longer dominate the land.”

“Who will?” Gift asked.

“Prophecies are not that simple,” Xihu said. “If they were, we would understand them better.”

“The Throne will belong to another, the prophecy says.” Kerde made her voice carry over the other conversation. “One who shall lay down the Sword and abandon the Crown.”

“Crown?” Gift asked.

“Scholars believe this means that the Throne wants us to turn away from our warlike ways,” Xihu said, “as your sister has led us. And now you have turned away from the Crown, not accepting your proper rule.”

“But you said the Throne already belongs to my family,” Gift said. “The interpretation makes no sense.”

“And we will not understand until it comes to pass,” said Perdom.

“What are the other prophecies?” Gift asked.

“There are none,” Kerde said, “except the Warning heard by Madot.”

“Madot and the other three,” Xihu said.

The Shaman turned toward Madot. She licked her lips, then said, “‘The hand that holds the scepter shall hold it no more, and the man behind the Throne shall reveal himself in all his glory.’”

“But this was not a Vision,” Perdom said. “I do not trust it. I still believe you were wrong in taking the boy to the Throne on the basis of this Warning.”

“She Saw him,” Kerde said. “She Saw him receive the gift of the Throne from his sister.”

“No,” Gift said. “She did not See me. Tell them what you really Saw, Madot.”

Madot glanced at Kerde, then closed her eyes, as if she didn’t want to face what she was saying. “I Saw a Fey man with coal-black hair. I Saw him from the back. I watched as Gift’s sister handed the Throne to him.”

“You told us this was Gift,” Perdom said.

“When I Saw him, I thought it was.” Madot swallowed so hard Gift saw her throat move. Then she opened her eyes. “But as he pointed out, I did not see the face. It could have been a Shifter—”

“There is only one Shifter in the Black family and you saw her give the Throne to Gift.”

“Now,” Madot said. “There is only one now. I do not know how the Black Queen will look fifty years from now. She’s a Shifter. She may keep her appearance unchanging.”

Xihu sucked in her breath. Gift watched the other Shaman. They shifted in their seats for the first time since all of this began.

“You tell us you were in error?” Kerde said.

“I interpreted as I thought best,” Madot said.

“But you took him to the Black Throne,” Kerde said.

“At your direction. I fought it.”

“And while I stood there,” Gift said, deciding to throw more garbage into this mess, “she promised me she’d train me as a Shaman if I touched the Throne. Obviously that promise was a lie.”

“I knew the Throne would want you,” she said. “I thought I wouldn’t have to fulfill.”

Gift raised his eyebrows and said nothing. The rustling among the Shaman continued. Then Ylo, one of the kinder Shaman, stood. She worked in the garden with Gift quite often. She didn’t say much, but when she spoke, he had learned to listen.

She said, “I too Saw the dark-haired Fey receive the Throne from Arianna.”

“So did I.”

“And I.”

Two other Shaman stood. Gradually, six more stood as well, all confessing to Seeing the same Vision.

“But,” Ylo said. “I did not See the man’s face.”

“Nor I.”

“Nor I.”

The remaining six hadn’t seen the face as well. They continued to stand. Another Shaman, one of the old-timers who never spoke with Gift, stood.

“I did not see her give the Throne,” the older Shaman said. “I saw him take it.”

“There can be that interpretation of my Vision as well,” Ylo said.

“And when he did,” the older Shaman said, “he spoke of destroying Protectors Village so that he could discover the Triangle of Might.”

Gift shuddered.

“It was a familiar voice I heard in my Vision,” the older Shaman said.

“I have had the same Vision,” another Shaman said. She had been sitting near the back. She stood as well. “I have Seen the Black King, his face in shadow, give an order to destroy the Village, kill any Shaman who get in the way, and take the Place of Power.”

“I have Seen the troops come over the mountain, like ants,” said a different Shaman as he stood.

“I have Seen all the old leaders, dead before the stairs,” said an apprentice, her voice shaking.

“My Vision is of a young man, trained in Nye, apologizing as he pulls out his sword,” Kerde said. “He is Fey and he knows he must kill me. We are standing before the stairs.”

Gift had Seen none of these things, yet he felt shivers run through him. He had never heard the Shaman do anything like this, although he knew it happened. This was what he had come here for. This was what he needed.

“I have Seen the Black Queen standing before the Throne,” Perdom said, “looking at it with such longing that I fear she shall devour it somehow.”

“I have Seen that as well,” Gift said. “The Black Queen, my sister. I Saw that after I touched the Throne. I also Saw her without a face calling my name.”

“I have Seen you,” Kerde said, “with a knife to the throat of a blond-haired man.”

She spoke with such hatred that the room was silent for a moment. Then Gift said, “I have Seen two Shaman at the doors of the Places of Power, preparing to find the Triangle of Might.”

“I have Seen that as well,” said another apprentice.

“I have Seen the Blood against Blood,” said Madot. “Just last night, I saw it, and it was Bridge’s hand that tried to stop it.”

“Bridge,” Perdom said. “I have Seen him comforting his daughter on Blue Isle.”

“I have Seen her look at the Black Queen with hatred,” said another Shaman.

“I have Seen a Golem training Infantry,” said Xihu.

“Sebastian?” Gift asked, mostly because he could not stop himself. “Sebastian couldn’t do that.”

“In my Vision, he trains them with the comfort of one who has done so for a long, long time,” Xihu said.

“I have Seen a fleet heading to Leut. A Fey fleet, with Nyeian and Islander ships. A war fleet,” said Kerde.

“I have Seen a people who live in the mountains and decorate themselves in blood,” said Perdom.

“I have Seen blood flowing like a river,” said an apprentice.

“So have I,” said another.

“And I,” said a third.

“I have Seen Blood against Blood,” said a Shaman in the back.

“And the chaos it brings,” said another Shaman as she stood.

“I have Seen hands reaching for the Throne,” said a third Shaman.

“And blood.”

“And blood.”

“And blood.”

The voices ended up speaking in unison. Everyone in the room was standing. It had grown hot. All of the souls in the lamps were standing as well. Gift’s heart was pounding hard. He felt a trickle of sweat run down one side of his face, even as another shiver ran down his back.

Gradually the voices stopped. Gift’s mind was filled with images that he didn’t know how to assemble. But he had one question, only one, that they had not answered.

“Has anyone else Seen my great-grandfather?” he asked.

“Have you?” Perdom asked.

“Is this the dead about whom you were referring?” Kerde asked.

“The first Vision I had after I touched the Throne,” Gift said, “I Saw him sitting on Blue Isle’s throne. And then again, I Saw him in a boat.”

“But you have seen him on Blue Isle’s throne when you were a boy,” Kerde said.

Gift shook his head. “I never did. I never saw him in person. I wasn’t in the palace until Rugad was dead. I have never seen him in a boat either. These were Visions, not memories.”

The Shaman looked at each other. Finally, one said, “I have heard his voice, speaking as if he were still alive.”

“I have Seen him kill a man with no tongue,” said Xihu.

“I have Seen him touch the soil in Leut,” said Madot, softly.

“Was it Rugad or was it one of his grandsons?” Kerde asked. “Bridge, it is said, looks more and more like him as he grows older.”

“How can we know?” Xihu said. “We have not seen anyone other than Shaman for generations. We have met Rugad. The man I Saw looked like him, but Gift has some of him, in the set of the mouth, the shape of his nose. Only the eyes are different. Rugad’s were so black that you could not see into them.”

“There is no way to know,” Perdom said, “without seeing Bridge and Rugat and Golden. And I, for one, do not want these sons of Rugar, grandsons of Rugad, here.”

“Nor do I,” said Kerde.

“They are not welcome here,” said Madot, “especially after some of the Visions we’ve heard of Shamanic blood being spilled.”

“We do not know when that will happen, and we cannot isolate ourselves more,” said Xihu.

“We can do as we chose,” said Kerde.

“We must do what is right for our people,” said Perdom.

“The Fey?” Gift asked. “Or the other Shaman?”

“Or the rest of the world?” said Xihu.

Her words were greeted with silence. Slowly the other Shaman sat down. The apprentices remained standing, bright-eyed for the first time since this began. Gift watched all of them, and then sighed. He had a headache caused, he thought, by too much information.

Kerde pushed her way back into the center of the room. She tilted her chin so that she could look Gift directly in the eye. “We no longer want you here, either. You will leave first thing in the morning.”

“No,” he said, startling himself as much as he startled her.

“No?”

“I have some things to finish here first. Then I’ll go. I would like one of you to come with me.” When he said that, he looked at Xihu.

“Why?” she asked.

“My family needs a Shaman. I had hoped to be that person, but it is clear I will not be. I need someone who will serve as advisor on this level, someone who’ll be willing to work with me and my sister.”

“That’s not how it’s done,” Kerde said.

“You need two Shaman, then,” Madot said. “I will come, if you’ll still have me.”

Gift looked at her. He still felt the sting of betrayal that had haunted him all week, ever since they had gone to the Throne. “One should do,” he said. “Arianna and I have the same goals.”

“Remember the Visions,” Xihu said. “And remember that goals change.”

“My sister is one of the strongest people I’ve ever met,” Gift said. “She can hold her own.”

“Even strong people can be changed,” Xihu said. Already, Gift sensed, she was doing her job as Shaman to his family.

He turned to Madot. “I will think on it. I will tell you tomorrow.”

“You will leave tomorrow,” Kerde said.

“I will leave when I am ready,” Gift said. “And not before.”

He stepped away from her so that he could face the other Shaman. They looked exhausted, as if everything that had passed in this room had nearly defeated them.

“Thank you,” he said, bowing slightly in the Blue Isle manner, “for sharing things not normally shared with my family. For enabling me to hear all your Visions, and to hear the prophecies and legends about the Throne. If there is anything else you feel I need to know, but which you haven’t said here, you can find me in my room. I will leave soon, but I want to make sure you all have your chance to be heard.”

Then he turned and left the room without a second glance at anyone. In the corner of his eye, he saw Kerde frowning, and knew she would probably discourage more talk. It didn’t matter. He’d heard what he needed. He knew now that something was happening, that his sister was in trouble, and the business with the Throne would somehow make things worse.

The corridor was dark. All of the lamps were in the room. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, before he found the main room, and the door.

He let himself outside. It was wonderfully cool here, and the air smelled of pine trees that covered the lower elevations. He took a deep shuddering breath, and as he did, he felt the familiar pull from the mountain.

He turned. The shimmer winked at him from above. He hadn’t lied to the Shaman. He would leave. But not until he completed one more duty.

Not until he went to the Place of Power, and tried to summon the spirit of his mother, so that they could talk face to face.

ELEVEN

SEGER PLACED HER HANDS on Sebastian’s throat. His skin was cool and smooth as stone, with jagged edges along the cracks. She wondered for the first time why she had never tried to repair the cracks. It would take some stone, the same stone she had used to put him back together, and a bit of time, and he would look as normal as a Golem could.