The Rival - Kristine Kathryn Rusch, ebook
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THE FEY: RIVALbyKristine Kathryn RuschAlso by Kristine Kathryn Rusch The White Mists of Power Heart ReadersTraitors Facade Alien Influences Sins of the Blood The Fey: Sacrifice TheFey: Changeling THE FEY:RIVALKristine Kathryn RuschMILLENNIUMAn Orion BookLONDONACopyright 1997 Kristine Kathryn Rusch , All rights reserved The right ofKristine Kathryn Rusch to be identified as the author of this work has beenasserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act1988.First published in Great Britain in 1997 by Orion Books Ltd Orion House, 5Upper St Martin's Lane, London we2H 9EA A CIP catalogue record for this bookis available from the British library isbn 185798 488 9 (cased) isbn i 85798489 7 (trade paperback) Typeset at The Spartan Press Ltd Lymington, HampshireI Printed in Great Britain by ; Clays Ltd, Stivesplc.For Jerry and Kathy Oltion, whose enthusiasm for this project has beeninvaluable.ACKNOWLEDGEMENTSThanks on this one go to Chris York for waiting all these months; to TornDupree and Caroline Oakley for their insights; to Nina Kiriki Hoffman for herhonesty and her trusty red pen; to Dean Wesley Smith for letting me stealfrom a lifetime of mountain experience; and to all the readers who let meknow how much they liked The Sacrifice.ATHE ARRIVALTHE ARRIVALOne The mountains rose before him, an impenetrable stone wall.Rugad clung to the fine strings holding the front part of his harness. Abovehim, the strings' ends were looped around the talons of twenty-five HawkRiders. The swoop of their magnificent wings sounded like cloaks snapping inthe wind. They bore him hundreds of feet above the raging ocean toward themountains that lined the southern end of Blue Isle.He angled toward the sun, but it brought him no warmth. Instead, its harshlight covered everything with a clarity that was almost eerie.The mountains themselves seemed to be carved out of the blue ness of the sky.Nothing had prepared him for those mountains. Not his Visions, not all thetalk of the Nyeians, not even a visit to the Eccrasian Mountains, the Fey'sancestral homeland. These mountains were sheer gray stone, rubbed smooth onthe ocean side by centuries of storms, waves, and severe weather. The oceanslammed into their base as if the water wanted to pound a hole through therock, and the surf sent white foam cascading into the air. Even at thebirds' height, angling upward to reach the top of those peaks, Rugad couldfeel the spray pricking his exposed skin like tiny needles.The higher they climbed, the colder he got.That was one contingency he hadn't prepared for. He had ordered the harnesschair from the Domestics back on Nye. They had spelled a dozen differentmodels. Some of the rope was too thick for the Hawk Riders to hold. Somehad been so thin that it cut into the Riders' talons. This materialsupported his weight and didn't put too much of a burden on the Riders abovehim.The Riders had two forms. In their Fey form, they looked nearly human,except for their feathered hair and beaked noses. In their bird form, theywere all bird except for the small human riding on the bird's back. Theylooked like tiny Fey riding on a bird, but they were, in truth, part of thebird, their legs and lower torso subsumed into the bird's form. The onlydanger they posed in bird form was that they had two brains and sometimes thebird's instinctual one took over.Rugad hoped that wouldn't happen here. He had wanted the Domestics to createa rope that the human part of the bird could hold in its hands. But thehands were too little. They couldn't carry anything of substance.They needed a strong, magicked fiber to lift him from the ship to the top ofthose peaks. Rugad swallowed, glad he swung from the harness alone. Hewasn't certain he could mask his nervousness. His feet dangled over theocean. He was flying higher than he had ever been in his life, and he wouldhave to go higher still.He had sent a scouting party to the top of those mountains. They hadreported a small level landing area, but he couldn't see it from here. Fromhere, the mountains looked as if they rose to jagged points, sharp as theteeth of a young lion.The birds changed their angle of flight, an5 his harness swung backward,making his breath catch in his throat. He gripped tighter, remembering theDomestics' admonition not to pull on the ropes. An exhilaration rose in hisstomach, a lightness that he almost didn't recognize, i '. He wasfrightened. , He hadn't been frightened in over seventy years, not since hisfirst battle as a teenage boy before he came into his Visions, when his youthand lack of magick forced him into the Infantry. Frightened.He grinned. Somehow the feeling relieved him. He had thought that part ofhim was dead. So many other parts were.Logic conquered fear, he remembered that much. They had tested the harness,put in a strong wood base and an even stronger back, making it like a sedanchair carried by Hawk Riders. Above him the ropes looped over a small ringand then attached to the talons of an inner circle of birds. Another groupof ropes ran higher, to a larger ring, and then to a larger circle of birds.Right now, they were angling upward in perfect formation, as if they shared abrain, the tiny Fey riders on their backs laughing and shouting across theair currents.In all of his campaigns, Rugad had relied on Beast Riders more than any otherform of Fey. He had brought most of his Bird Riders along on this trip,knowing that he would need them to traverse the distance between ship andshore.The Hawk Riders had a majesty the other bird riders did not. From thisangle he could only see one of his own men on the hawk's back, his lower bodyvanishing into the hawk's form. Only the man's torso and head were visible,looking as if he were actually astride the hawk. The hawk's own head bentforward slightly to accommodate the unusual configuration but that was theonly concession to the difference. The Rider and the Hawk had been one beingsince the Rider was a child.These Hawk Riders had flown him dozens of times before, testing the finalharnesses, but never this high, never at such risk.Landre, head of the Spell Warders, had tried to talk him out of this course.He had suggested that Rugad listen to the Bird Riders, and send a few Scouts,then trust their opinions. Rugad had discarded that idea before the fleetleft Nye. Then Landre had suggested that Boteen do some sort of Enchanterspell that would enabled Rugad to share the Bird Rider's sight. But he hadrejected that as well.He had to see Blue Isle for himself.Blue Isle. It had a reputation as being impenetrable. The river that ranthrough the center of the Isle was navigable, if the ships had a current mapof the harbor. The first Fey invasion force sent almost twenty years ago hadhad such a map, but still the Isle had defeated them.Just as Rugad had known it would.The Isle would not defeat him.The Hawk Riders' angle grew steeper. The harness swung back, making himgiddy. The mountains were close now. Their sides no longer appeared smooth.They were made of volcanic rock, polished by the elements, with cracks andcrevices, and broken edges all along the face. Nothing grew on the oceanside, no scraggly trees, no windswept bushes struggling to survive. Therewas no soil here, and probably hadn't been since the mountains rose out ofthe sea, thousands of years before.His grin grew. The sheer cliff faces of legend were not smooth as temperedglass. They had flaws. Imperfections.Handholds.Then the Riders pulled him over the top of the mountain, and his breathcaught in his throat. The mountains still rose beside him, but underneathhim was a plateau, and through it, a long narrow crevice.If he squinted, he could see blue sky through that crevice.The Gull Riders and Scouts had been right. A concealed A lower torsosubsumed into the bird's form. The only danger they posed in bird form wasthat they had two brains and sometimes the bird's instinctual one took over.Rugad hoped that wouldn't happen here. He had wanted the Domestics to createa rope that the human part of the bird could hold in its hands. But thehands were too little. They couldn't carry anything of substance.They needed a strong, magicked fiber to lift him from the ship to the top ofthose peaks. Rugad swallowed, glad he swung from the harness alone. Hewasn't certain he could mask his nervousness. His feet dangled over theocean. He was flying higher than he had ever been in his life, and he wouldhave to go higher still.He had sent a scouting party to the top of those mountains. They hadreported a small level landing area, but he couldn't see it from here. Fromhere, the mountains looked as if they rose to jagged points, sharp as theteeth of a young lion.The birds changed their angle of flight, ana his harness swung backward,making his breath catch in his throat. He gripped tighter, remembering theDomestics' admonition not to pull on the ropes. An exhilaration rose in hisstomach, a lightness that he almost didn't recognize, f ' He was frightened.; He hadn't been frightened in over seventy years, not since his first battleas a teenage boy before he came into his Visions, when his youth and lack ofmagick forced him into the Infantry.Frightened.He grinned. Somehow the feeling relieved him. He had thought that part ofhim was dead. So many other parts were.Logic conqu...
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