Heroes at Odds (20 page)

“And what happens if you don’t? Get married?”

“My family’s reputation would be ruined.”

“That’s all?”

“That seems to be enough, according to them.”

She thought about that for a moment. “It was my understanding that a person’s personal obligations were terminated if they’re called to one of the academies.”

“Aye.”

“But the Prides would have darkened the Mallorough name anyway? Wouldn’t that have fired back on them, under the circumstances?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’m pretty sure everyone knows a Shield can’t be held to a marriage contract.”

“My family fears people won’t.”

“Then what’s the point of all this?” She waved a hand at the starting ditch of the race.

“If Taro wins, I won’t have to marry Marcus.”

“But you don’t have to marry him. Everyone already knows that.”

“Marcus offered the challenge to either void the contract or enforce it. Taro felt compelled to accept.”

“Reviving the contract,” Browne murmured.

“What do you mean?”

“The contract was dead. It would have stayed dead if you had just sent them away. I think the tests resurrected it.”

An additional layer of unease coated my chest. “I don’t understand.”

“Just what I said. A contract can lapse if both parties don’t enforce its particulars for a long enough period of time, but can be resurrected if the parties then resume enforcing the contract.”

While I was busy being horrified, I latched on to something irrelevant. “How do you know that?”

She shrugged. “I dabbled with the idea of being a solicitor for a while. Decided it was too boring.”

I didn’t feel any better learning that she probably knew what she was talking about. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not going to marry Marcus, either way.”

“I really doubt it’s that simple. There’s a spell involved. I don’t think that’s normal.”

“My parents don’t believe spells actually work.”

“Perhaps it doesn’t matter if they do. Perhaps the contract and its enforcement have some kind of spell written through it. What was the process of creating this marriage contract?”

“I don’t know. I assumed it was just a normal contract written up by a normal solicitor.”

“There was probably more to it than that. I think whoever designed the contract might have been a caster. There is a ritual in creating contracts. The laws are specific about wording, who can draft contracts, how they’re signed. From what I understand, only a certain kind of paper can be used, only a certain kind of ink. It all has the making of a spell. Changing the terms would have an element of casting, too. But none of you really know what you’re doing. The end results could be unpredictable.”

“But we all agreed to the new terms.”

“Did you use a ritual?”

“No. Well, yes. There was some kind of ritual involved when Marcus challenged Taro. Apparently, it was traditional.” Only Marcus hadn’t had a proper emblem. Because he wasn’t an aristocrat. “It wasn’t exactly how tradition dictated, though.”

“Listen, I’m just guessing. I do believe your being sent to the Shield Academy may have successfully severed the contract. The academies are places of power on their own. It’s possible, even likely, that if you had left things alone, the contract would be void. By agreeing to these tests, you have resurrected the power of the contract. Possibly in its original terms.”

I glared at her. “Are you saying that if Taro loses the tests, I’ll have to marry Marcus or my family might suffer serious repercussions enforced by a spell?”

“Or the spell involved might force you to marry Marcus.”

“How could it do that? It can’t force me to show up for the ceremony, or say things I don’t want to say.” Could it?

“I can’t be sure, of course, but that would be my guess.”

Browne was a smart, smart person. Damn it.

My mother was standing a little off by herself, staring intently in the direction from which the runners would appear. I would ask her how the contract had been created. Later. When I could yell at her in private.

Dias wasn’t anywhere in sight.

Mika and Linder were together, laughing, the heartless bastards. Linder put his hand on the small of Mika’s back, and Mika leaned into him. Hmm.

Marcus came into view, Taro nowhere near him. That was disappointing, even though I’d been expecting it. Some of the spectators starting cheering, which surprised me. What did they care who won? And if they did care, why didn’t they support Taro? He was less of a stranger to them than was Marcus.

Or maybe they would have cheered for whoever came first regardless of who it was. Fickle lot.

Marcus crossed the ditch. “I declare Marcus Pride has crossed the termination mark and has successfully completed this test,” Fiona announced.

Marcus, slightly out of breath even though he probably hadn’t needed to push himself as hard as he did, walked over to stand beside his father. Cars slapped him on the back in congratulations. Then everyone watched for Taro.

He didn’t show.

This was really embarrassing.

Taro really put up with a lot of trash because of me. Here he was putting himself on display for crowds of strangers because of something stupid my parents did. It just wasn’t fair.

How could I show my appreciation?

And then, finally, Taro came into view. He had clearly been running as fast as he could, but looked to be at the end of whatever strength he’d had. Should I cheer for him? No one else had. Even the conversations had stopped and we were watching Taro stumble along in silence. Would my lone voice raised in support just sound pathetic? Just make the lack of everyone else’s support more noticeable?

I stayed silent. So did everyone else.

Taro crossed the ditch. “I declare Shintaro Karish has crossed the termination mark and successfully completed this test,” said Fiona. “As arbiter, I find Marcus Pride the winner of this test.”

And I felt that jittery sensation again.

Ah, hell.

“Mother,” I whispered, ignoring everyone else in the area. “Do you have a copy of the contract with you?”

“Of course.”

“Can you bring it to my suite?”

“Certainly.” She strode back into the manor.

I stepped over to Taro, wrapped my arm around his and rested my forehead against his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“There are two more tests.”

“I got drunk yesterday,” he said with disgust.

I wasn’t sure what to say to that. “Aye, you did.”

“I’m sorry.”

I rubbed his arm. “I don’t blame you.”

“How can you not?”

“I am a beneficent and wondrous person and you should worship me.” That got a smile out of him, at least, weak as it was. “Can you go up to our suite? Mother is going to show me the contract.”

He nodded and kissed my forehead and left.

Mika was deep in conversation with Linder. “I envy you,” Mika was saying. “I’ve never been there.”

“I thought traders traveled everywhere.”

“In time, perhaps. My father travels a lot. He’s been taking my brother about more frequently, but never to Red Swan.”

“You wouldn’t believe how much—”

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” I broke in. “Mika, I’m sorry to interrupt, but I really need to speak to you and Dias and Mother. Can you go up to my suite?”

Mika looked mildly annoyed, but he nodded. “I’ll catch up with you later, aye?” he said to Linder.

“Of course.” Linder stroked Mika’s cheek, smiled at me and followed the Dowager back to her house.

That had happened quickly.

“Where’s Dias?” I asked Mika.

“In bed, the last I saw him.”

“This late? Really?”

“He’s enjoying sleeping late here. We’re not often able to do that at home.”

“Huh. Could you dig him out?”

“Yes, Mother,” he muttered.

“Thank you, my love.”

Finally, I approached Fiona. “My lady,” I said quietly. “I have a favor to ask. Another one.”

Fiona seemed weary, but she said, “Certainly.”

Which made me feel worse about asking. “Our contract dictates that my family provide housing for the Prides at this time. Your manor is the closest thing we have to a home.”

“You want me to invite them to stay with us?”

“It is a great deal to ask, I know.”

She shrugged. “Sure.”

People who didn’t ask troublesome questions were fantastic. “Thank you.”

Taro and my mother were in the suite when I got there. Taro was pacing, his expression grim. Blaming himself for his loss. And yes, technically, it was his fault, but I couldn’t really hold him responsible. His intoxication was just so uncharacteristic. Something was odd about the whole thing.

My mother was holding a scroll. “Is that it?” I asked her.

She held it out to me. “Don’t expect to understand all of it. Some of the language is dense.”

The scroll was thicker than I would have liked. Just to check, I unrolled it, to see how long it was. I had to stretch my arms wide. It was ridiculous.

After a knock, Mika and Dias came in. I felt the tension in the room crank up. “I’m ready to hear you,” said my mother, and she was saying it to Dias.

“Oh?” was all my brother said as he dropped into a chair.

There was a stiff pause as I tried to think of a way to divert the potential argument without revealing how irritated I was that they were going to indulge in one in the first place. We had important matters to discuss.

Before I could act, my mother ran out of patience. “You have appalling behavior to apologize for, boy.”

“I’m not a boy,” Dias snapped.

“You’ve certainly been acting like one.”

“You always say that. The accusation is getting stale.”

“I’m entitled to some respect.”

“And I’m entitled to some freedom.”

“You have to earn freedom.”

“Just like you have to earn respect,” said my brother, and I had to admit I agreed with him.

“Not as a parent.”

“As anything.”

“I’m not even concerned about your reprehensible manner toward me yesterday—”

“I said nothing I’m ashamed of.”

“—but you got Taro drunk—”

Taro stopped pacing to lean against the wall. “I got myself drunk.”

“—and he lost the race today.”

Taro pinched the bridge of his nose as Dias stared at him. “You lost?” he demanded.

“I would have lost anyway. He was fast. Faster than I could ever run, hungover or not.”

“Getting drunk didn’t help,” said my mother.

“Getting drunk was entirely my fault.”

“And you have a habit, do you, of getting drunk in the middle of the day?”

Taro hesitated. He didn’t want to incriminate my brothers. He didn’t want to get in the middle of their argument. He was a smart man.

“When was the last time you got drunk, Shintaro?” my mother asked.

She had no right to ask him that. Taro agreed. His smile was slight. “I don’t remember.”

“This one makes a regular habit of it.” Mother thrust a thumb at Dias.

I didn’t like this. What was she hoping to accomplish? If she merely wanted to give him a dressing down, it should be done in private.

“Why are you attacking him?” I asked her. “You said yourself there was a clause in this contract that stated we would suffer weakness and disharmony if we failed to provide the Prides with housing.”

“So what if there is? It’s just a weird coincidence.”

“Do you really believe a solicitor would put language in a contract that had no use or meaning?”

“You clearly haven’t read any contracts.”

That was true. Still, it didn’t make sense to make a contract longer than necessary. Unless . . . “Are solicitors paid by the word?”

Mother looked pained. “Of course not.”

“Then every word must be significant. We were supposed to house the Prides. We didn’t, and now you two are at each other’s throats.”

“We always are,” Dias said flippantly.

“In front of others?” I asked.

Dias frowned, clearly thinking about it.

“Taro does not get drunk when he might have to channel,” I declared.

Taro scowled.

“How do you explain that?” I asked my mother.

“How do you?” Mother countered.

Oy, this was going to be awkward. “I believe the contract is supported by a spell.”

Mother stared at me. Dias snickered. Mika raised his eyebrows.

“What happened to you?” Mother demanded. “You’ve always been so sensible.”

“Spells are real. Casting is real. And I have reason to believe that casting was involved in the creation of the contract.”

My mother and my brothers all stared at me. “Are
you
drunk?” my mother asked.

Of course, they couldn’t just take my word for it. “Excuse me.” I went to the bedchamber and closed the door behind me. I unlocked the overmantel and took out the ingredients I would need. After putting the overmantel back together, I returned to the sitting room.

I hesitated for just a moment. I was showing my ability to cast to people who didn’t believe in spells, who might be shocked. But surely there was no danger. This was my family.

“Choose something,” I told my mother. “Anything you can easily pick up with your hands.”

With a sigh of impatience, she stood and picked up a small vase.

“Put it anywhere you like in the room, as long as it’s in sight.”

She merely moved it from one table top to another.

With the ingredients I needed, and the words I’d learned, I made the vase rise from the table top. I heard gasps and a “What the hell are you doing?” from my mother. I set the vase back down.