Changeling: The Second Book of the Fey (Fey Series) by Rusch Kristine Kathryn

Author:Rusch, Kristine Kathryn [Rusch, Kristine Kathryn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: WMG Publishing
Published: 2011-06-11T07:00:00+00:00

THIRTY-ONE

Rugar knocked once on the door to the Wisps' cabin, then let himself in. The cabin smelled of woodsmoke and fresh baked bread. Gift was sitting on the floor, as he often was. When he saw Rugar at the door, he let out a small yelp and backed away. Rugar terrified the boy and he wasn't sure why.

"Mama!" Gift cried, then stood and backed away until he was braced against the wall. Rugar smiled at him, but did not put him at ease.

Gift was a beautiful child. His hair was shiny black that reflected the flames from the fireplace as blue. His eyes were round, startling, and full of intelligence. His upswept brows, high cheekbones and thin features made him appear Fey, but his face belonged to his father. Anyone who saw him and Nicholas together would know Gift's paternity.

Rugar could never forget it.

Niche peered out of the back room. She was holding a towel. Wind was at her shoulder, his delicate features haggard. They had the look of people who had gone days without sleep.

"I thought you'd be in mourning," Niche said. Her voice was cold. She set the towel on a tiny table to her left and came into the room.

"I heard the boy had some trouble."

"He's fine now."

Gift was watching them from the wall. For one who had supposedly come close to death, he looked the healthiest of all of them.

"The Shaman had said he would not survive the night. I would like to know what happened," Rugar said.

Niche looked at Gift. His eyes were wide. "Gift, will you leave us please?"

"No," he said, his tone surprisingly adult.

"Gift," Niche said. "I need to talk with your grandfather alone." She had turned toward the boy to speak with him and Rugar saw that her wings were bandaged and held close to her side. Something had happened here. Something serious.

"Come, boy," Wind said. "Let me take you outside."

"No," Gift said again. He hadn't taken his gaze off Rugar. The boy's old eyes had a malevolence to them that they had never had before.

Rugar crossed the room in two strides and crouched in front of Gift. The boy tried to push himself even farther into the wall. "Do you have something to say to me, son?"

Gift pursed his lips. Niche shook her head at him. He didn't even look at her. His eyes narrowed, and he looked just like his father had when Rugar tried to take the baby.

"You let her die." The boy's words were stark, flat and cold.

Rugar took a step back.

Niche put a hand over her heart and looked at Rugar, as if asking him to explain. Wind straightened his brows in confusion.

Rugar felt as if the air had been knocked from him. "What?" he asked.

"I been thinking about it," Gift said. "You let her die."

"No one's dead, Gift," Niche said.

"Then why should he be mourning, huh? And why do you make me call him Grandfather? You don't call him father. Neither of you."

Niche looked at Rugar as if pleading with him.

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