Heroes Return (38 page)

“I don’t think this is what Fiona needs to be hearing right now, Lee,” Taro chided me.

“Of course she does. She needs to be prepared. Whoever is doing this has moved from trying to make her death look accidental to not giving a damn what things look like. That can’t be good.”

“Shut up!” Taro hissed.

“I’m cold,” Fiona said, her voice suddenly sounding a little slurred.

“Let me rip the sleeves off your nightgown, Fiona, before the blood dries them to your arms.”

“All right,” Fiona said, still sounding slurred.

Taro carefully picked at the tears of her sleeve and ripped it up to the seam at her shoulder. There the tear ended, and after a few solid tugs Taro wasn’t able to tear any further. He settled for making sure the various cuts were clear of all material.

I couldn’t help myself. I had to take a look. It was difficult to tell in nothing more than dim candlelight, but the cuts weren’t nearly as deep as I’d feared. I was sure they hurt like hell, though.

Frances returned with a jug of water and some towels over her arm. “Thank you, sir, ma’am, for staying with Her Grace. I shall look after her now.”

“I will wait for Healer Browne to come,” I said.

“Her Grace would be more comfortable with privacy,” she argued.

“Lord Tarce asked us to remain until he returned, and so we shall.” She wasn’t going to drag us out by the arms and we all knew it.

So we waited. Fiona had gone silent and drowsy, speaking only to say she was cold. Frances had her lie out on a settee and covered her with a duvet, making sure her arms rested above it.

I was trying to figure who was attempting to kill Fiona. I couldn’t see why anyone would, really. She was such a thoroughly decent person, I couldn’t believe she had somehow earned anyone’s murderous rage. True, I didn’t know her well, and neither did Taro. I, in particular, was a terrible judge of character.

So, if she didn’t garner such anger due to her actions or her personality, the next logical reason was her position. Someone thought they would benefit from her death, by having the title left open. And the first choice to come to mind for that motive was Taro’s mother.

It made a sort of sense. She had been hinting that there was a possibility of removing Fiona from the title so that Taro, in her twisted reasoning, could claim it. She had tried to convince Taro to act out against Fiona. She had arranged for that stupid test that could have killed Fiona.

However, although hers was the first name to come to mind, I couldn’t see her actually hiring someone—and someone would have to be hired; she wouldn’t do it herself—to murder Fiona. It seemed too dirty for her. She seemed to take only the actions that could be cloaked in tradition or political maneuvering. Surely, if she had ordered the death of a person as important as the titleholder of Flown Raven, the Emperor would have to see even her properly punished.

Who else would benefit from the death of the titleholder?

Well, there were those among her people who probably thought they would. But it was a difficult thing for a person to bring themselves to kill one of the High Landed, no matter how much they hated or resented them. They would know they would get the harshest sanctions possible. Besides, it was unlikely that the tenants would know Fiona’s schedule and movements, or that they would be able to move about the manor unnoticed.

And really, why would a tenant murder a titleholder? They had no reason to believe the next titleholder would be any better for them.

Which brought me to Daris. She lived in the manor. She would know where Fiona was at all times and she could go wherever she wished. And she hadn’t come out in the hall after all that racket.

Of course, if she were drunk, she might not have heard it. And she wouldn’t benefit from Fiona’s death. I had no doubt that Stacin had already been designated as Fiona’s heir.

But then, Stacin was far too young to act as titleholder. Until he reached his majority, someone else would have to act as titleholder on his behalf. And that person, that trustee, would have complete control over Stacin, could mold him, could possibly raise him to be nothing more than a spineless face to hide the real power.

I’d never thought of that. That was a possibility Daris would consider. I had no idea whether Daris was capable of killing her sister or not.

Tarce and Browne finally arrived. Taro and I lingered outside Fiona’s suite waiting to hear word of the extent of her injuries. I whispered to Taro my suspicions, even about his mother.

“I really doubt the Dowager is so crazy as to try murder, Lee,” Taro said dryly.

“Then who do you think it is?”

“I have no idea. I can’t see one of the tenants doing it. I can’t see Daris having the wherewithal to do it.”

“She’s not drunk all the time. On the other hand, she might have had to be drunk to come up with something so stupid.”

“It’s probably someone we know nothing about.”

“We have to do something.”

“There’s nothing we can do except keep our eyes and ears open and tell Fiona of anything we think is strange.”

Poor Fiona. Her husband dead, someone trying to kill her, unable to rely on her own family for support. Except Tarce, maybe, but he really didn’t seem the most supportive of people, either.

In time, Browne left the suite, and she told us that while multiple cuts had been inflicted, most of them were shallow, and only two of them had required stitches. Tarce didn’t come out, and it seemed there was nothing more Taro and I could do, so we went back to bed.

But I didn’t sleep. I lay in bed, stared at the ceiling, and listened for footsteps. There was a would-be murderer in the manor. They were going to try again.

Chapter Twenty-eight

At sunrise, I could hear the wind wailing and the rain hitting the window. I wondered if there was something of a windy, rainy season in Flown Raven. I lay in bed and listened to the mournful noise and tried not to let it depress my mood. It wasn’t a felicitous way to wake up.

It did, however, prompt me to rise and take some spell-casting supplies from the overmantel. I sat on the floor and put the ingredients in small bags to more easily pack into my purse. There had been a spell to stop earthquakes in the book Reid was studying. There were spells for each natural disaster, but given the nature of the events that were striking Flown Raven, I’d focused my attention on the spell for earthquakes. I couldn’t easily carry all the supplies needed for all the spells.

I hadn’t had a chance to practice the earthquake spell, of course, but I had memorized it. That was all I could do to prepare. That and assemble the ingredients needed for the spell. The next time we channeled, I would be ready.

Taro strode back into the bedroom from our sitting room, still dressed in his nightgown. “Miserable place,” he muttered, flinging himself into a chair. “Miserable weather and nothing to do.”

“Well, you’ll have to get used to it. We’re stuck here for at least a few years.”

“I don’t want to get used to it.”

That was particularly childish of him. I just looked at him without speaking.

He sighed. “What are you doing?”

“These are things I need for a spell to calm earthquakes. I told you about it.”

“I don’t like the idea of you using a spell to channel.”

“I have to do something. I can’t let things continue as they are.”

“I don’t like it. It’s unnatural.”

There were those who felt everything we did was unnatural. “It’s either this or I’m telling the council we can’t channel here.”

“Whether I like it or not.”

“Whether you like it or not. Our pride is not as important as our safety and the safety of everyone who lives here.”

He offered up a bent smile. “I can’t see you admitting that there is something you can’t do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” There were lots of things I couldn’t do. I knew that. “I can admit when I can’t do something.”

“Uh-huh.” He sat down in front of me and rested one of my bare feet on his lap, rubbing my sole with his thumb. “I wonder if we were sent here because I chose Fiona as the titleholder.”

“What would one have to do with the other?”

“I don’t know. But the Dowager wanted me here as the titleholder, and the Emperor was agreeable to that, even though it would take breaking the law to accomplish. I made that impossible by choosing Fiona. Fiona refuses to do what the Dowager demands, refuses to do what the Emperor orders. And the next time we turn around, we’re sent here when Triple S policy says we shouldn’t be. And the Dowager is telling me I could still have the title. Would she still be telling me that if I chose a titleholder more open to her influence?”

I shrugged, but I wondered if he didn’t have a point. Maybe his mother merely wanted a puppet in the title. I didn’t know why she thought Taro was likely to be that puppet, but I didn’t really understand anything about the Dowager.

“And did the Emperor really tell her I could still have the title?” Taro went on. “Or is she just claiming he has?”

“There is no way for us to know.”

“Except that he did send us here, and it wasn’t to reward me for anything, no matter what he’s said in that regard.”

“But why would he want you here? Why would he even care?”

“Unless it’s some kind of favor to the Dowager.” He grimaced.

“What connection could there be between the two of them?”

“I shudder to think.” And he actually shuddered.

“You’re sending my mind to unwelcome places, Taro.”

“Good. It can keep mine company.”

“I don’t want to try to figure out what your mother and the Emperor are up to.” Largely because I thought it was a waste of time. I didn’t know either of them well enough, and I didn’t think Taro did, either. “It doesn’t matter anyway. The Triple S doesn’t like the idea of our being out here. It’s only a matter of time before we’re transferred.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “You show enormous faith in the council.”

Actually, I didn’t know what to think of the council. Sometimes I thought that, of course, they would protect their interests, as they had done for centuries. At other times, I felt their power relied entirely on the respect of others, and if the Emperor felt no respect for them, they were helpless.

Taro had stopped rubbing my feet. I tapped his hand with my toes to remind him of what he was supposed to be doing. “It can’t be good for them to have an Emperor who feels he can do what he likes with us,” I said.

“I’d rather they didn’t make us the example for some kind of struggle between the two of them. I want us to be forgotten.”

“Even if it means we’re left here for however long the Emperor wants us here?” I didn’t want that. I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life in Flown Raven. I didn’t think it was good for Taro.

He frowned. “I don’t know what would be best, to be honest.”

This was ridiculous. We weren’t supposed to matter to anyone beyond being just another Pair. And that was all we were, wasn’t it? We were good at what we did, but so were other Pairs, and there was no reason for us to have any significance beyond the roles of Source and Shield. That we meant anything to people like the Dowager and the Emperor, that they were engaged in some kind of plan for us, was a ludicrous idea. “We’re probably finding schemes in smoke,” I said.

“You’re probably right,” he answered.

And neither of us really believed that.

Lila walked in with a large tray. “I have tea and coffee, sir, ma’am.”

“Thank you, Lila,” I said, pulling my foot from Taro’s lap. I was feeling less embarrassed by being interrupted by her all the time. I was getting used to it, I supposed. “How is Her Grace this morning?”

“She appears hearty, ma’am.” She curtsied and left.

Now, Fiona was someone with real problems. Someone was trying to kill her and there was no way of figuring out who. I couldn’t imagine what that must feel like.

I felt Taro’s protections fall. I put up my Shields as I jumped to my feet and pulled out my purse, dumping all the ingredients onto the bed.

This would be the test. Could I perform this spell while channeling? I’d done it once before, but then my eyes weren’t filled with water and my mouth with salt.

I poured hanan powder, dark orange, on my left inner wrist. “Soil to obey me.” I poured white icin powder on top, and rubbed it in. “Air to subdue soil.” I opened a vial of whale oil and poured it on top. “Soothe the waters.” I took out a red-bladed knife, procured from Browne. “I call to you all.” I slid the knife lightly over my wrist, calling up the slightest trace of blood. “Bide by me.” I picked up a pinch of soil and put it in the palm of my hand, curling my hand into a fist. “I hold the soil still. Soil trembles no more. Bide by me.”

Something whirled in my stomach and flooded it into my mind. From there it rushed through me and into Taro.

I heard him gasp. “What the hell is that?” he demanded.

“Don’t worry about it,” I said, though I didn’t know what I was talking about. Maybe it was something to worry about.

“Something is happening.”

It was. I could feel it. The forces whipping through him slowed a little, and the pressure on my Shields lessened. So did the salt in my nose and throat and eyes. This enabled me to concentrate more thoroughly as I repeated the words of the spell.

The force from within me roared into unprecedented strength, flowing from me to Taro and then beyond. I could practically see it, watching it soaking into the soil, pressing hard into it. It felt strange, like my mind was being stretched beyond the limits of my skull. It was a little frightening.

But I felt no tremors.

It still took longer than I liked, but at no point did I fear I would lose control and fail Taro. I felt Taro manipulate the forces and for the first time in a long while, I didn’t worry about how things would end.