Read Online The Black King (Book 7) by Kristine Kathryn Rusch - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Kristine Kathryn Rusch
Tags: Fiction
Ads: Link
magickal, like Enchanters, often lost their minds.
Coulter didn’t expect young Matt to have a quick answer on how to work the dolls, but Coulter did know that Matt had access to the Vault beneath the Cliffs of Blood. The Vault was where the Secrets of the Rocaanist religion were stored. Matt’s father had become keeper of that Vault until his death half a year ago. Now his other son, Alexander, had taken his place.
Alex, like his father, hated the Fey and feared all things magickal—despite the fact that Alex had great Vision. He saw it as a curse rather than something he could control. Alex would never let Coulter into the Vault, but Alex probably wouldn’t deny his brother entry.
Coulter opened the back door and let himself into the kitchen. It smelled faintly of baked bread, overlaid with the sharp spices from the fish stew they’d had for lunch. Three of his students were still doing dishes and laughing as they worked. They stopped when they saw him.
“Do you know where Matt is?” Coulter asked Thea.
She frowned as if surprised that he had asked her. Thea and Matt had built a tentative friendship, some of it based on their feelings of rejection. Thea was half Fey, the result, he’d heard, of a love-match that the Islander family didn’t approve of. They took their pregnant daughter back into the family, and when she’d died in childbirth, had tried to hide Thea from their Islander neighbors.
Then Thea’s magick started appearing. She was a Weather Sprite. She started, as most of them did, making small rainstorms in water basins, then graduated to covering herself with rays of light, even on the stormiest days.
Her abilities terrified her family and they neglected her. She finally ran away, somehow finding out about Coulter’s school, and covering half of Blue Isle to arrive at his doorstep, thin, starving, and wary as a stray dog.
In the short time she’d been here, she’d fattened up and had begun to make friends. Only recently had she stopped stealing food from the kitchen when everyone else was asleep. Coulter had never mentioned it; he figured she needed to view this place as her home.
She continued to stare at Coulter as if debating how to answer him. Even he, the person she trusted most, got assessed much of the time.
“Matt’s in the library,” she said at last.
“Thank you.” Coulter smiled and left. The library was through the dining hall and down some narrow corridors. It was Coulter’s favorite room and it had become Matt’s as well. Many times, Coulter had discovered Matt in there, reading one text or another, always on magick and its history.
He opened the door now. The room seemed musty in the daylight. Usually Coulter visited the library at night, with a fire in the grate and candles burning in the lamps set on the tables.
Matt stood as Coulter entered, looking nervous. He had an illustrated book from Nye open before him—a book of poetry.
Coulter tried not to smile.
“It’s all right,” Coulter said. “I was looking for you.”
Matt nodded, but continued standing. He was a slender boy with a lanky build that implied he would be very tall one day. He had golden curls that surrounded his head like a halo, and distinctive features that in a woman would be considered beautiful.
“I hope you don’t mind that I’m here,” Matt said.
He’d become timid in the last year. Before he’d snuck here while his parents slept. His father had gone insane. When his father died, his family didn’t bother to tell Matt, and he left home for good. Ever since then, he’d been quiet, uncomfortable and somewhat meek.
Coulter was beginning to rethink his plans. “I don’t mind. I’ve told you before you have the run of the place.”
“Leen says books will corrupt me.”
Coulter smiled. Leen was pure Fey, an Infantry soldier who had been beside Coulter since they were young. Once they had been lovers, but that ended long ago when they both realized that Coulter could never
Coulter didn’t expect young Matt to have a quick answer on how to work the dolls, but Coulter did know that Matt had access to the Vault beneath the Cliffs of Blood. The Vault was where the Secrets of the Rocaanist religion were stored. Matt’s father had become keeper of that Vault until his death half a year ago. Now his other son, Alexander, had taken his place.
Alex, like his father, hated the Fey and feared all things magickal—despite the fact that Alex had great Vision. He saw it as a curse rather than something he could control. Alex would never let Coulter into the Vault, but Alex probably wouldn’t deny his brother entry.
Coulter opened the back door and let himself into the kitchen. It smelled faintly of baked bread, overlaid with the sharp spices from the fish stew they’d had for lunch. Three of his students were still doing dishes and laughing as they worked. They stopped when they saw him.
“Do you know where Matt is?” Coulter asked Thea.
She frowned as if surprised that he had asked her. Thea and Matt had built a tentative friendship, some of it based on their feelings of rejection. Thea was half Fey, the result, he’d heard, of a love-match that the Islander family didn’t approve of. They took their pregnant daughter back into the family, and when she’d died in childbirth, had tried to hide Thea from their Islander neighbors.
Then Thea’s magick started appearing. She was a Weather Sprite. She started, as most of them did, making small rainstorms in water basins, then graduated to covering herself with rays of light, even on the stormiest days.
Her abilities terrified her family and they neglected her. She finally ran away, somehow finding out about Coulter’s school, and covering half of Blue Isle to arrive at his doorstep, thin, starving, and wary as a stray dog.
In the short time she’d been here, she’d fattened up and had begun to make friends. Only recently had she stopped stealing food from the kitchen when everyone else was asleep. Coulter had never mentioned it; he figured she needed to view this place as her home.
She continued to stare at Coulter as if debating how to answer him. Even he, the person she trusted most, got assessed much of the time.
“Matt’s in the library,” she said at last.
“Thank you.” Coulter smiled and left. The library was through the dining hall and down some narrow corridors. It was Coulter’s favorite room and it had become Matt’s as well. Many times, Coulter had discovered Matt in there, reading one text or another, always on magick and its history.
He opened the door now. The room seemed musty in the daylight. Usually Coulter visited the library at night, with a fire in the grate and candles burning in the lamps set on the tables.
Matt stood as Coulter entered, looking nervous. He had an illustrated book from Nye open before him—a book of poetry.
Coulter tried not to smile.
“It’s all right,” Coulter said. “I was looking for you.”
Matt nodded, but continued standing. He was a slender boy with a lanky build that implied he would be very tall one day. He had golden curls that surrounded his head like a halo, and distinctive features that in a woman would be considered beautiful.
“I hope you don’t mind that I’m here,” Matt said.
He’d become timid in the last year. Before he’d snuck here while his parents slept. His father had gone insane. When his father died, his family didn’t bother to tell Matt, and he left home for good. Ever since then, he’d been quiet, uncomfortable and somewhat meek.
Coulter was beginning to rethink his plans. “I don’t mind. I’ve told you before you have the run of the place.”
“Leen says books will corrupt me.”
Coulter smiled. Leen was pure Fey, an Infantry soldier who had been beside Coulter since they were young. Once they had been lovers, but that ended long ago when they both realized that Coulter could never
Similar Books
