Destiny: A Story of the Fey

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Authors: Kristine Kathryn Rusch
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of their animals. Her hair and skin were more golden than dark, and she had the Shifter’s mark on her chin — a birthmark that established who and what she was when she was in her Fey form.
    But they couldn’t tell now. All they could do was tell that a cat had spoken to them.
    “Well,” she said, sitting on her haunches and wrapping her tail around her paws. “Where do I start? Do I reprimand you for gossiping in the middle of the day? Do I tell you that I got into the building through a window that some careless fool left open and, if I had been some young Nyeian bent on assassination, I could have walked right past you and you wouldn’t have noticed? Or do I ask that one of you poor, magickless fools get me a robe so that I can have my meeting with Rugar?”
    They didn’t answer her. She raised her chin slightly. Amazing how she could intimidate them, even though she was so very small.
    “By the Powers,” she snapped. “Get me a robe. And put a guard on the window.”
    She nodded over her head toward the room she had just come out of.
    Two of the young men ran off toward the room. The third young man hurried off, presumably to get her a robe. That left the young woman.
    “I really should report this,” Solanda said. “Technically, you put the Black King’s life in danger.”
    “From the Nyeians?” the young woman snorted. “You snarl at them and they run. They couldn’t fight us in the war, and once they found out that they’d remain in charge of their businesses, they really didn’t care that we took them over. Why would one of them try to get in here?”
    “Revenge?” Solanda said. “We did, after all, slaughter half their army. Those young men were related to someone.”
    “Then that should take away half the threat, shouldn’t it?” the young woman said. “After all, the Nyeians believe that only men are capable of fighting.”
    Solanda felt amused. “I have a hunch that belief has changed since they were defeated by us. What’s your name?”
    “Licia,” the girl said.
    “You haven’t come into your magic yet, have you?”
    The girl straightened her shoulder. Magic was always a touchy subject with Infantry. They were tall enough to show that they would get magic, but chances were if they neared adulthood and still hadn’t come into their magic, their abilities would be slight.
    “No,” she said.
    “You showed a tactician’s mind. Why do you waste it gossiping with people who aren’t worthy of you?”
    The girl straightened her shoulders. “I don’t normally guard. I am usually in the field.”
    “But there’s no field at the moment, is there?” Solanda said. “What are you doing here?”
    “Rugar asked me to come. He says his daughter needs more swordfighting training.”
    Solanda narrowed her eyes. Jewel, Rugar’s middle child, was the most promising of all his raggedy offspring. She hadn’t come into her magic yet either, but her height and her heritage suggested when her magic came it would be powerful. She was a good swordswoman now — Solanda had seen her fight in the last of the Nye campaign.
    “Why would she need more training?”
    Licia shrugged. “I suspect it has something to do with the fight Rugar had with his father this morning.”
    Solanda tilted her head to show her interest.
    “They just left that room you came through. They were screaming at each other all morning long.”
    “About what?” Solanda asked, realizing that she was now gossiping. But she didn’t want to go into a meeting with Rugar with less knowledge than he had.
    “About going to Blue Isle. Rugar says he won’t go without his daughter.”
    “Not his other children?”
    “He didn’t mention them.” Then Licia smiled. “At least not at the top of his voice.”
    Solanda suppressed a sigh. The Black King favored Jewel. He felt that her brothers were idiots — and he was right. Their magic was slight, like their mother’s had been. Rugar’s entire life had been about defying

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