Heroes' Reward (4 page)

“We don’t really
select Shields in that way,” Taro explained in a soft voice. “I didn’t look at
all the Shields at the Matching and decide I wanted Shield Mallorough.” He
threw me an apologetic look, which wasn’t necessary. I knew how it all worked.
And, well, I hadn’t exactly wanted Taro, either. “It’s something that just
happens. No one knows why.”

“Aye, that’s
what you lot all say. But none of us know what you people are up to, do we? All
these secrets that we have no way of learning.”

I would have
told most regulars that the Triple S really wasn’t all that mysterious, that we
really didn’t have much going on that regulars didn’t know about. But it wasn’t
the thing to say to this particular regular, I decided.

Besides, I was
no longer sure it was true.

“That’s it,
then?” Colin challenged. “That’s all you have to say?”

“Is there
anything we can say to make you feel better?” Taro asked. “What can we say?”

Colin swore,
spat at Taro’s feet, and stormed out.

Well, that had
been terrifying.

The innkeeper
looked at Taro. “I’ll send up some hot water.” Then he and his friend left,
too.

Taro pulled off
his shirt, which had been spattered with blood.

“How are you?” I
asked him.

“Humiliated. And
thrilled my nose isn’t broken.”

I sat on the
bed. I was trembling in reaction to the violence.

The shirt Taro
put on was dark blue. Less likely to show blood if someone else decided to try
to make it flow. I wondered if that was his intention.

He sat beside
me, and I took his hand.

It wasn’t the
first time I had witnessed regulars perpetrating violence against members of
the Triple S. During our assignment in High Scape, the city went through a
horrific summer: blizzards and hail, drought alternating with floods. Many had
lost their livelihoods; some had lost their lives. The regulars had looked to
us to do something – anything – to stop the destruction. They hadn’t understood
that controlling the weather had been beyond our abilities. Fury and fear had
turned ordinary residents into a rioting mob that had pretty much torn the
Triple S accommodations apart.

The reminder
made me even more apprehensive about our travels. We didn’t just have to worry
about thieves, but any regular who felt any kind of grudge against us. And what
could we do if we were attacked? Taro and I had lived through some scrapes, but
neither of us could really truly fight.

Trying to sleep
that night was futile. People were moving about all over the building and I
worried that each trail of footsteps would end up at our door. And when I did
doze off, I dreamed of the fight again. The farmer was even bigger, and he
didn’t stop at one punch. I kept waking to make sure Taro was still alive and
conscious.

I was exhausted
the next morning, with eyes that felt full of grit, and a piercing headache. I
would have been better off if I hadn’t tried to sleep at all.

Taro tried to
pay the innkeeper with some coin. He always had money on him, in case he got
the opportunity to gamble. The innkeeper spurned the offer, stiffly announcing
that he knew the law.

So we couldn’t
win, no matter what we did.

Our horses and
tack were unmolested. We had enough food that we didn’t need to requisition
breakfast, and if we pushed hard and ate little, we could reach the next
village without running out.

Though if the
people of the next village resented us as much, I didn’t know what we would do.

Chapter Four

We arrived at
Shidonee’s Gap without getting killed or beaten or robbed, but the journey had
been a harsh education. Nowhere else had we been confronted as we had been in
Fair Stop, but there was definitely a great deal of hostility in the air. Even
in the bigger cities, where we went largely unnoticed, I had felt I had to keep
a clear eye out for trouble, constantly, and I’d never experienced quite that
sort of tension before.

I was relieved
to see the first homes on the fringes of Shidonee’s Gap. Surely we would be
safe there. For the first time in weeks, the large painful knot high between my
shoulders started to ease.

No one spared us
a glance as we trotted up the stone streets. The residents were busy, calling
out the prices of their wares, hauling barrels, leading cows. They were so used
to Sources and Shields that we were common to them. It was soothing to be ignored.

“Do you want to
stop somewhere?” Taro asked. “Get something to eat?”

I was starving
and filthy, but I didn’t want to dwandle. I looked forward to being safe inside
Triple S walls. “I’d rather push on. Find out what this is all about.”

We rode to the
Source Academy, where the Triple S council lived and presided. One pleasant
aspect of these circumstances, perhaps the only one, was that I would finally
be able to see Aryne again. I hadn’t since Taro and I had left her at the
Source Academy years before, despite my promise to do so. When I’d made that
promise, I’d been posted at High Scape, where the presence of multiple Pairs
made it possible to be taken off the roster once in a while. Once we’d
transferred to Flown Raven, I hadn’t been able to leave. Aryne and I had had to
make do with letters.

I hated breaking
promises.

When we reached
the gate, I told the staff member on watch who we were and who we were there to
see.

The staff member
didn’t open the gate. “If you’re here to see the council, you’re to go to the
Council House.”

“The council no
longer sits here?” I asked.

“They crafted a
new building on the fringes a few years ago.”

“Why?”

The staff member
shrugged.

“Nothing of this
was mentioned in our summons.”

“I don’t know
anything about that.”

Of course he
wouldn’t. It was stupid to complain of it to him. “Where is it, then?”

“It’s on the
west side. You can see it from the end of Bridal Street. You’ll know it when
you see it. It’s the only building in that area.”

We got back on
our horses and I followed Taro through the streets.

The first thing
I noticed about the building I presumed was the Council House was that it was
surrounded by a high stone wall. That was unexpected and alarming. I’d grown up
surrounded by walls – the Academy needed to keep the Triple S students from
mingling with regulars and risking a spontaneous Bond with the other children –
but as far as I was concerned, no other building needed them.

We dismounted
and went to the solid iron gate and Taro hit the gong.

The iron visor
slid open and a pair of eyes stared at us. “Yes?”

“Source Karish
and Shield Mallorough,” I announced.

She pulled the
gate open, and it looked like it took her considerable effort to do so. The
gate was heavy, then. She was neither a Shield nor a Source. The Triple S did
hire regulars as staff, but she was wearing what looked like the uniform of a
Runner – a professional criminal catcher – minus the cape. Black high boots and
black trousers and a black tunic. Runners working with the Triple S
was
unusual.

Immediately
beyond the gate was a wide cobblestone path, very white against the luscious
green grass, which led straight to a stone structure. The building looked
almost like a small castle, with very small windows and corner turrets. It was
absolutely bizarre. Why would the Triple S need a building constructed for the
purpose of protection?

After removing
our bags from our horses, we jogged up to a door that seemed too small to be
used for a castle. I knocked on it and it was promptly opened by a young man in
the same black outfit as that worn by the woman at the gate. “Source Karish and
Shield Mallorough,” I told him.

The man stared
at us as though he suspected I was lying. Twit. I dug out the letter from the
Triple S council and handed it to him. He read it quickly, gave it back to me,
and said, “This way.”

The foyer was
cold, empty stone with no art on the walls and not a scrape of furniture. It
felt barren and intimidating.

The young man
took us through a maze of corridors and then to another door, on which he
knocked. Upon being asked who was there, our escort announced, “The Flown Raven
Pair.”

“Hang there,”
was the response.

A moment later,
the door was opened by a young man. He had a white braid on his left shoulder.
A Shield. “Thank you, Runner Telvien.”

So, yes, a
criminal catcher. Why was he there?

The Runner left
and the Shield said to us, “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to your rooms.”

Rooms? Plural?

Yes, on the
second floor. The Shield took us to a small bedchamber. “I hope you’ll be
comfortable here, Shield Mallorough. This way, Source Karish.”

Taro didn’t
move. “I’ll be here with Dunleavy.”

The Shield’s
expression became stiff and cool. “That is inappropriate.”

“Do you honestly
think that by putting us in separate rooms, you’ll stop us from sleeping
together?” I asked.

“These were the
instructions I was given. Please don’t make things difficult.”

Pompous little
prat.

Taro rolled his
eyes but followed the Shield down the corridor. Probably just to get rid of
him.

I dumped my bags
on the bed before searching through my smallest satchel for paper, a pen, and
my ink pot, arranging them on the tiny desk that had been crammed into the
small room. I sat on the wobbly chair – who had this room been designed for,
anyway? – and wrote on the first page,
Dear Mika
.

Taro had told me
several times that when students were found to have unique talents, they were
sent somewhere by the Triple S and were never heard of again. Was this where
they were sent? Did the Triple S expect us to just disappear?

Well, if they
did, they were out of luck. Fiona and a whole lot of other people in Flown
Raven knew where we were. My brother, Mika, would be the next to find out, and
I would be sending letters to anyone I could think of.

Only a few
moments later, Taro stepped into the room with his bags. “So mine is as bad as
yours. At least you have a window.”

“Yes, and it
looks like it even opens.”

Taro hadn’t even
finished unpacking before a staffer came in with a wooden tray of the sort I
remembered from my Academy days. It held plates of hot sliced meat, fried
potatoes and a pile of cut tomatoes.

He stopped short
after a glance at Taro. “You are expected to be in your own room, Source
Karish.”

Taro waved a
hand in a languid gesture. “Meeting expectations is direly boring, my good
fellow.”

“You are only
making things more difficult for yourselves.”

“I’m pretty sure
we’re making things more difficult for you all, too, which is delightful.”

The man didn’t
know how to respond to that. It was sort of funny.

And in one
moment, Taro slipped from fool to aristocrat. He snapped his fingers. “You may
go fetch my meal now.”

The man frowned,
but he didn’t object. He set the tray on the desk, letting it drop for the last
inch right on top of my letter, and left without another word.

“I must say, I’m
shocked to experience this lack of respect from Triple S staff,” Taro
commented. “He’s paid to be here, right?”

“Not everyone is
delighted with their occupation.”

“That’s no
reason to cut into us. We didn’t do anything to him.”

The staffer came
back with Taro’s meal, which turned out to be lukewarm.

“Is there a
reason we can’t just eat wherever everyone else is eating?” I asked. I assumed
there was a dining hall somewhere.

The staffer
didn’t bother to answer us before leaving the room.

This was becoming
aggravating. Was this what we could expect from everyone? So far, none of the
people we’d encountered had so much as smiled.

During our five
years in Flown Raven, the world had skewed into something almost unrecognizable
without our knowing about it. We needed to learn what was going on.

I looked at the
small bed dubiously. “Not much room.”

“We’ve had
less.”

“Yes, but having
any fun will be difficult.”

He smirked.
“Where’s your creativity gone?”

“I’ll leave that
to you.”

“I shall
endeavour to rise to the challenge.”

I picked up a
pillow and hit him in the face with it. He deserved it.

Chapter Five

I was yanked
from a deep sleep so quickly I was left disoriented and unsure of where I was.

“What the hell?”
Taro disentangled himself from me and rose from the bed.

A sound came. A
knock on the window.

So, of course,
Taro went right over to it and opened it without demonstrating any thought
about being cautious. “Who the hell are you?”

“Told you, you
should have visited me,” an unfamiliar voice complained. “You can’t even
recognize me.”

“Aryne?” Taro
exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

“Are you going
to let me in or what?”

Taro stepped
back while I hastily lit a candle to illuminate the slim young woman who
crawled through the window.

When she was on
her – bare – feet, I could see she had grown quite tall in the six years since
I’d seen her last. Her posture was better, too: spine straight and shoulders
back. And she was absolutely beautiful, with lovely almond-shaped black eyes,
warm brown skin, fantastic cheekbones, and a fine jaw.

Taro grinned at
her. “Can I still hug you or are you too grown up for that?”

She rolled her
eyes at him before throwing her arms around him. I hugged her, too, but I was
much less comfortable about it. She noticed, of course, because she’d never
been an idiot. “You’ve gotten rigid again,” she told me. “Too much northern
influence.”

I narrowed my
eyes at her. “Your accent has changed. Considerably.”

“I was told my
original accent and vocabulary would prevent everyone from taking me seriously.
Complete bollocks, but none of the stiffs would listen to me.”

That last
sentence sounded more like the Aryne I remembered.

“How did you get
up here?” Taro was looking out the window.

I joined him,
and I shared his astonishment. There was nothing to assist her to get to the
window, no ladder, nothing to stand on. “Did you climb the wall?” I demanded.

“It’s easy. Just
takes practise.”

“Practise?
Practise where?”

“Everywhere.”

“But how did you
get out of the Academy grounds?”

She snickered.
“If you know what to do, the gate practically swings open. And I’m not the only
one to crack it, you know.”

There had been
those who chose to escape the grounds when I was a student, to fulfil a dare or
to satisfy curiousity. Though most hadn’t suffered for it, one Shield had
spontaneously Bonded with an undiscovered Source, and they’d formed into a
complete mess of a Pair, emotional past all use. That had proved to be an
effective deterrent, at least for a while.

“How did you
know we were here?” Taro asked.

“Everyone knows
you’re here.”

“In the city,
fine, but this building? How did you even know this building exists?”

She sprawled on
the bed. “We know you came to the Academy – a lot of the staff seem to think
we’re all deaf and stupid – but that they didn’t let you in. So I figured you
were here. And I know about this place because the regulars do. They talk about
it sometimes.”

“You actually
talked to the regulars during your escapades?” I was appalled. “Aryne, you know
better. You could have Bonded.”

She smirked.
“No, ‘cause I was already Bonded.”

Taro and I
stared at her for a long, silent moment.

“What?” Taro’s
voice broke in the middle of the word.

“Her name is
Druce Steeler. She’s brilliant.”

“That’s
impossible,” I declared. “You’re all Sources.”

“Not me. I’m a
Shield!” She pointed at me. “Ha! Just like I told you!”

Taro hissed,
“Keep your voice down. People might be walking around.”

This appeared to
irritate Aryne. She pulled in a deep breath through her nose and let it out,
slowly. Calming herself down.

“Oy, that’s
familiar,” Taro muttered.

“How did this
happen?” I demanded.

“I was at the
Academy, taking all those lessons, including politics and law and trash.”

I wasn’t sure
why she glared at Taro. Did she know he’d asked the Headmistress to add those lessons
to a curriculum that didn’t normally include those subjects? She seemed to know
a lot she shouldn’t.

“Anyway, Druce
came back from a training tour. I was coming out of Tausen’s office where she’d
been tearing a strip off for a trivial infraction and Druce was coming to
report about her tour. That was that.”

“When did this
happen?”

“Few weeks after
I got there.”

“When you were
eleven?” Taro rubbed his face.

Oh, that could
be bad. “And you’re all right?”

“I was angry a
whole lot at first,” she admitted. “Things – stupid things – made me furious.
It was like I couldn’t think. And then I’d hit people. When they didn’t need to
be hit.”

“How did the
professors handle this?”

“They don’t
know.”

“They don’t
know? How is that possible?”

“They just
thought I was being uncivilised, right? Bad upbringing, starting training when
I was so old. I calmed down after a while and it was fine.”

Taro was pacing
in the tiny room. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

She frowned at
him. “You always told me not to tell anyone anything.”

“I didn’t
include us in that suggestion.”

“I didn’t want
to write anything down. Sometimes letters go astray.”

I wasn’t
thrilled that Aryne had inherited Taro’s – our – paranoia. “How do you manage
things, if no one knows?”

“Druce is
twenty-six. She goes to Matches. She never gets Chosen. People are giving up on
her. She finds it aggravating, of course, but we think we should wait a few
more years to tell everyone. We know we’ll have to, eventually, but maybe it’ll
look less freakish if we lie about when it happened.” She scraped her hand
through her hair. “Do you have a better idea?”

No. None. “Let
us think about it a bit. But you’re not getting any Shield training. That’s
dangerous for both of you.”

“I grew up
Shielding myself,” Aryne reminded me.

Aryne was the
only person I’d ever met, or even heard of, who could channel and Shield
herself while doing so.

Though not well.
She had kept herself alive, but had been able to channel only the weakest of
forces. I wouldn’t want her trying to Shield anyone else relying only on what
she had known as a child.

What a
nightmare. “And Steeler? What does she think of this?”

“Druce is a very
sensible person.”

That was an
excellent non-answer. “How are you getting on with her?”

“She wasn’t
thrilled when it happened. I don’t blame her. It made her a sort of freak, too,
didn’t it? But she was good about it, and she treated me well right from the
beginning. I like her. She’s smart, too.”

That was
something. That was a lot. At times I had feared Aryne wouldn’t be Bonded at all.

She had insisted
she was a Shield. I had believed her true nature had been one of a Source, so I
had forced my will upon hers. If she had gone to the Shield Academy, she
wouldn’t have met Steeler until she was ready to leave, and she wouldn’t have
appeared so much of an anomaly. “I’m sorry. You were right. I should have
listened to you.”

She shrugged.
“I’ve gotten past it. Would have Bonded to Druce either way, wouldn’t I?
Eventually.”

“That’s not the
point.”

“Well, I’ll
remind you when I want you to do something. Always good to be able to guilt
people into doing what I want.”

I deserved that.

“Does Steeler
know about your night time excursions?” Taro asked.

“Sometimes she
comes with me. Though she can’t climb worth a damn.”

So, not so much
of a settling influence there. Not that I wanted Aryne changed in any
significant way, but her life would be easier if she could pretend to be like
other people when it was necessary.

Aryne remained
for about an hour, talking about Druce and the classes she was taking. As far
as I knew, the Source Academy didn’t actually know that Aryne was of Imperial
blood, but they seemed to have gone beyond what Taro had asked in making her
familiar with all that a potential heir to the throne might need to know.

Eventually we had
to kick her out, against her wishes. She pouted and called us old and climbed
back down the wall.

I sat on the
bed. That accent, her deportment. I wouldn’t have thought of trying to change
those. “It sounds like they know she’s of the Imperial line. How did they find
out?”

“I didn’t tell
them, but maybe someone else did.”

“But I thought
no one outside the family and their solicitors knew about it.”

“The Empress
told us. I presume she told Thatcher. Maybe she told others, and those others
weren’t discreet.”

Which meant all
sorts of people could know.

I didn’t like
the idea of people knowing about Aryne’s connections to the Emperor. They might
try to take advantage of her, try to shape her to their will, with the hope
that her lineage would benefit them at some point. Aryne was strong, but she
had had a hard life during her first eleven years, a life of neglect
interspersed with abuse. Thatcher, her caretaker, if he could be called such,
had kept her docile – relatively – by telling her she was a slave with cruel
owners who were still looking for her. She had been so young when he had found
her, she hadn’t known any better.

She had been
furious when she learned the truth – that she’d never been a slave, that
slavery didn’t even exist on Flatwell. Thatcher had merely wanted control of a
member of the Imperial family, planning to use her to his benefit some day.

She had every
reason to hate the world. I didn’t blame her, but if she were given the power
of a monarch, I feared what she would do with it. It was likely she would abuse
it just as much as Gifford did.

Even if she
didn’t, she had no experience with the vicious politics employed by the
titleholders who lived in Erstwhile. The Academy couldn’t prepare her for that.
She was highly intelligent and, as far as I could tell, an excellent judge of
character, but the residents of Erstwhile were a breed apart. She might end up
listening to the wrong people, or not listening to the right ones.

I was very
ashamed of my feelings, and I would never, ever admit to them to anyone.
Besides, it wasn’t my decision to make. I would stay well clear of the whole
business.