Victory: The Fifth Book of the Fey (Fey Series) Read online

  Victory

  THE FIFTH BOOK

  OF

  THE FEY

  Kristine Kathryn Rusch

  Copyright Information

  Victory

  Copyright © 2012 by Kristine Kathryn Rusch.

  Published 2012 by WMG Publishing

  Cover Art Copyright © 2012 by Dirk Berger

  Cover Design Copyright 2012 WMG Publishing

  First Published 1999 by Bantam Books

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  The Fey Series

  (In chronological order)

  Destiny: A Short Story of The Fey

  The Fey: Sacrifice

  The Fey: Changeling

  The Fey: The Rival

  The Fey: The Resistance

  The Fey: Victory

  The Black Queen: Book One of The Black Throne Series

  The Black King: Book Two of Black Throne Series

  The Place of Power Series: Book One [Coming Fall 2012]

  All of the Fey series will be published by WMG Publishing

  in both electronic and trade paper editions

  in chronological order starting in the summer of 2011 and ending in the spring of 2012.

  Short Table of Contents

  Start Reading

  Copyright Information

  About the Author

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Thanks on this one go to Dean Wesley Smith for discussing the future of the Fey; Kathy Oltion for her boundless enthusiasm; Sandy Hofsommer for expecting the unexpected; Paul Higginbotham for nagging; Anne Lesley Groell for having the sturdiest desk and quickest response time in all of publishing; and to all the readers who ask questions, keep me on my toes, and who've let me know how much they're enjoying the series.

  For Chris and Steve York

  with thanks for all the years of friendship

  THE ATTACK

  ONE

  Luke huddled in the small trees that separated his neighbor Medes' farm from the farm the Fey had been using as a strong hold. He could barely see across the yard. The moon had set when and his three companions had started on this mission. Luke wasn't nervous, but he could hear Jona's heavy breathing and the rustle of Medes's clothing as he moved, and could feel Totle's occasional jumps of fright.

  None of them had ever done anything like this. The three men with Luke were farmers. They had tilled land, grown crops, and worked in daylight since they were tiny boys. When the Fey first invaded Blue Isle twenty years before, Totle hadn't even been born. Luke had fought, but Jona and Medes hadn't.

  Luke had been captured. The Fey's treatment of him and his father had changed his entire life.

  Now his father was missing, and the Fey's second invasion of Blue Isle had deposed the King, destroyed the main city of Jahn, and forced the farmers—all the Islanders—to work for Fey glory. Luke had decided that he would do that, in the daylight. At night, he would concentrate on destroying the Fey.

  The others had come along because they too wanted the Fey off the Isle. They knew, as he did, that this mission was probably futile—that they could as easily die as succeed—but they also knew that the Fey had a weakness.

  Their weakness was in their own arrogance, their own confidence in themselves, their own belief in their undefeatability. Luke had seen what happened to the Fey who had lost that belief. They made mistakes. They died.

  He hoped to shake that confidence to its very roots tonight.

  He glanced at his companions. Jona, the neighbor who had helped him set up this small resistance force, was a slender man, almost as old as Luke's father, with the thin, wiry look of a person who'd worked in the sun his whole life. His skin was naturally dark from all those years outside, but Luke had insisted in covering him with dirt anyway. Jona wore the darkest clothes he owned, and those too had been covered in the rich, black ground that gave the Islanders such healthy crops. Except for his bright eyes, he was nearly invisible in the dark.

  Totle was the youngest of them. He was from a farm several miles away from Luke's. Luke had never met him before. He had come with Jona when Luke had sent out the word. Totle was in his early twenties, and had taken over his farm when his father had died the year before. He still had that leanness only the very young and the very active had. His skin had been burnt by the extra hours he had spent in the fields before the Fey forces arrived in this part of the country, and he bore a bruise on his left cheek that he had received when he had tried to guard his farm from the invaders.

  They hadn't killed him. The Fey respected farmers too much. They had taken Blue Isle partly for its strategic location—halfway between the continents of Galinas, which the Fey had conquered, and Leut, which the Fey wanted next—and partly for its incredible richness. With Fey scattered over half the world, their demand for supplies and raw materials was great. They had already given the farmers in this section of Blue Isle instructions on how to improve yields and on what the Fey expectations would be for the future.

  The last member of Luke's party, Medes, crouched beside Jona. Medes was a thick man, with corded muscles that ran the length of each arm lie had small, spindly legs, and he bore much of his weight in his torso, which was rounded with muscle. He too wore black dirt. His silver hair proved to be the largest problem. They had had to cake the dirt in it to hide the color, and even then Jona would occasionally glance at him, curse, and rub more dirt in his hair.

  They were sitting on Medes's land. The small trees served as a windbreak between Medes' farm and the farm the Fey were now using. That farm had belonged to a man named Antoni and his family. The Fey had told Luke that Antoni and his family had gone to work for one of the southern farms, but he had learned differently last night.

  He had been reconnoitering this place, searching for a first strike for his small band, when he had gone into the barn. Inside, he had discovered Fey pouches. The pouches, which contained skin and blood and sometimes bones from the victims of a battle, were used by Spell Warders to devise more magick spells. The pouches also had other uses, things Luke did not understand, but had heard of.

  He had found his target.

  He had also found Antoni. Luke had hit his head on a small lamp, and its illumination had flooded the barn. Inside the lamp were tiny figures composed of light: Antoni and his family. The only way their souls could have been trapped in that lamp was if their bodies were gone.

  They were dead; they just hadn't realized it yet.

  The Fey often captured souls and used them for light. The Fey were not wasteful conquerors. They used each part of a victim for their magick, and they used all the resources of the countries they conquered, renewing those resources whenever possible and using them to continue to build the strength of the Fey Empire. This conquering strategy was, Luke believed, one of the many things that gave the Fey their power.

  Through the copse of trees, he had an imperfect view of the farmhouse. Fey were inside it, and outside. The guard on this building was not traditional for Fey. Usually, they put some kind of magick spell on the place, or they created a Shadowlands, marked by a tiny rotating circle of lights. The hoped that the fact the Fey used real soldiers as guards, instead of trusting their magick, meant that there were few magickal Fey around. The Fey guarding this place had looked, in the daylight, young. Most Fey did not come into their magick until their earl
y twenties, forcing many of them to serve in the magickless infantry during those years.

  Luke guessed that Infantry held this patch of land, not any of the higher orders. He guessed, but he did not count on it.

  He was fully prepared to die in this raid.

  He would do his best to make sure that Jona, Medes, and Totle did not.

  Their target was not the farmhouse, but the barn, and those magick pouches. There were only two guards on the barn, both near the main entrance. It showed, Luke thought, that the Fey, for all their military knowledge, and their demands regarding yield and production, knew very little about actual farming. He had gotten into the barn the night before by crawling through an open slat in the back.

  The group would do the same tonight.

  And tonight, the light was with them. The moon, which had been full the night before, had set. They had very little time before dawn to conduct their raid.

  Luke nodded to his companions. Totle patted his side. He had rags hanging from two pouches. Medes held up the small bottle of grain alcohol that he had brought. He had said it would help them. Jona took the wicks he had carried and held them in one hand. Luke had the flints. He didn't trust anyone else with them. He also had a few rags and a few wicks. He figured he could make do without the alcohol if he had to.

  He pointed to the barn. Totle's shoulders rose and fell as he took a deep breath, then he crouched and scuttled away from the trees. Medes followed a moment later, and then Jona. Luke brought up the rear, as he had planned.

  Luke had thought to go first when he set this plan into motion, but Jona had talked him out of it.

  "You're the only one of us with knowledge of the Fey," Jona had said. "If they see anyone, it'll be the first. And then they'll kill him. The rest of us can get away."

  Luke knew that wasn't the case; when he had been captured, he had been in the center of the attacking force, but he agreed with Jona anyway. Luke was less afraid of the Fey than he was of having his small band backing down at exactly the wrong point. By going last, he could prevent one of them from turning around, running, and calling attention to the whole group.

  Totle had reached the first hay bale. Luke's biggest worry was that Totle, who was the least familiar with this field and farm, would go in the wrong direction. So far, he was following instructions to the letter.

  Medes then left the hiding place at the copse of trees. He scuttled across the field as well, but his larger form was more visible, at least to Luke. Luke glanced at the farmhouse. The Fey weren't talking as they had been the night before. He couldn't see the guards very clearly at all.

  But he knew they were there.

  All he hoped for was that their lack of magick would help him. He hoped they would shout, or converse among themselves, before coming after Luke's small group.

  But he had seen the Fey in action too many times. They always appeared silently at first and then they began their shouting. He suspected that if they saw this small band, things wouldn't be any different.

  Medes made it to the first bale. Totle started for the second just as Jona left the copse of trees. Luke had set it up so that only two members of the group would move at one time. He figured that way only half of his force would get caught if the Fey weren't diligent.

  If they were diligent, the whole group would die.

  Jona moved the best of all of them—so low to the ground that he was almost invisible. He looked like a shadow in the darkness.

  Fortunately, all of the men were farmers. They knew how to move on a cut hayfield without making any noise. They knew how to avoid the stalks that would crunch beneath their feet. They knew how to approach a bale without making it shake.

  Luke was glad that these three had joined him. He had others in his small resistance movement, thanks to Jona's efforts, who would not have made as good stalkers. Indeed, Luke had been surprised: in the day since he had first spoken to Jona, Jona had gotten the word to a good dozen farmers who had, in fact, spread the word to at least a dozen more. The group had not met yet, and Luke doubted it would ever meet in full force, but they all knew of each other, and they had already developed signals and meeting places. He hoped they would have time to develop systems to fool the Fey, but he thought that might be wishful thinking. The Fey rarely gave anyone plenty of time to plan.

  Jona had reached the hay bale. That was Luke's cue. He swallowed hard—his mouth was suddenly dry—and started across the field.

  He moved much more like Medes, and he knew it. Upright and quick, placing his feet on the exact right places, he hurried toward the bale. As he did so, he scanned the field. The house was dark, unlike the night before, and the guards weren't as obvious. The two trees that served as a windbreak behind the house were completely still.

  There wasn't even a breeze this night, which was, he thought, both good and bad. Good because the Fey couldn't smell something different on the breeze, and bad because every noise was amplified. One misstep, and they would have the guards' attention.

  He reached the hay bale as Medes reached the next one. Ahead, he could see Totle pat Medes on the back.

  Jona grabbed Luke's arm, pulled him close, and put a finger to his lips. Then he pointed at the barn. Luke squinted. Finally he saw what Jona did.

  Three guards.

  The night before they had had only two.

  Well, that took care of one of his fears. With the farmhouse so dark, he had been afraid that the Fey had moved on without his knowing, that they were gone, and their pouches with them, and this entire raid had been for nothing.

  But in taking care of that fear, it had given him another. Had they known about his visit the previous night?

  The Fey lamp had gone on. He had made no attempt to hide the light. But he had leaned a rake against it, making it look as if the rake had fallen and jarred the light awake.

  Maybe the Fey hadn't fallen for that.

  Maybe they knew someone else had been in their barn. But how?

  He took a deep breath to bring down the panic. They were Fey. They had powers he did not. He shouldn't question how. He should merely accept it.

  He would just have to be cautious. He hoped that Totle would be. He had tried to warn the boy. But he didn't know Totle well, and that worried him. Luke had checked for all the signs of Fey influence, the ones his father's Fey friend Scavenger had warned him about, but Luke didn't trust the Fey in any way.

  There might have been one that Scavenger had left out.

  Luke nodded at Jona just as Totle started for the third bale. Luke pushed Jona slightly, and he headed forward, moving as they planned.

  The field wasn't very large, but this system made it feel as if it were the size of eight fields. The waiting made Luke nervous, and he checked the sky to see if there were any sign of the sun.

  No. The darkness was still as complete as it had been before. There were clouds above him, and that added to the blackness. Some kind of luck was with him, just as there had been the night before. Something wanted him to get to that barn.

  He only hoped that something wasn't Fey.

  Totle and Jona reached their respective bales. Then Luke and Medes left their posts and moved forward. Luke felt exposed as he crossed the emptiness between bales. But he could see more of the barn. No Fey on the side closest to him. And two Fey at the door of the farmhouse.

  Two Fey only.

  None of the guards noticed him as he crossed the fields. They didn't notice Medes either.

  So far, so good.

  Totle was nearly ready to start the long trek in the open to get to the back of the barn. Luke couldn't help him with that either, couldn't warn him any more than he already had about the possibility of more guards in the back.

  And about how to find that loose board. Luke didn't know how hard it would be in this darkness. He wanted to set the fire inside the barn, not outside. It would be too easy for the Fey to spot if he set it outside, and they would be able to put it out.

  He wanted the fi
re to rage before they even noticed it existed.

  He made it to his second bale. Jona clapped him on the back. Luke smiled and nodded. Then Jona left for the third bale, just as Totle crossed the field toward the barn.

  Luke held his breath. He watched the boy's frame, noting the low crouch, the rapid movement. Totle was doing everything he was told, moving with complete purpose, not stopping to check his surroundings, getting to the next site and then securing it.

  This was the difficult one.

  This was the unknown part.

  Luke wondered, if this was how his father had felt when Luke had volunteered to go on that first mission against the Fey. When Luke insisted on going. Luke felt incredible nerves now, and he didn't even know the boy. Imagine how he would feel if the boy were his son.

  Totle disappeared behind the barn.

  Luke held his breath another moment — and heard nothing. No scream. No cry for help. No announcement from the Fey that they had captured one of the Islanders. Nothing.

  Luke let out the breath he had been holding. He noted that Jona had made it to the third bale.

  There was still no sound from behind the barn. Maybe a Fey had been there and grabbed Totle, wrapping a hand around Totle's mouth to keep him quiet.

  Maybe the Fey were just waiting there, waiting to see who else would come. Maybe they hadn't noticed the four invaders at all.

  Medes glanced at Luke, as if he too were uncertain about what to do next. Luke saw Medes's movement, but he didn't know if Medes could see him clearly. Despite the uncertainty, Luke nodded, as if to tell Medes to go ahead.

  Medes did.

  Luke couldn't watch him because Luke had to cross to the third bale. As he moved, he saw that the three guards hadn't left their posts. Neither had the guards near the house. The sky was unchanged. Very little time had gone by, although to Luke, it felt like hours.