Heroes' Reward (14 page)

Chapter Sixteen

The next
morning, an Imperial Guard took me to a part of Erstwhile I had never seen
before: a small lawn – surrounded by a wall, of course – with a square building
of dark stone and small windows, grim and depressing in the cold rain. Did the
casters live there? Was that why I rarely saw them?

I was led to a
plain wooden square of a room occupied eighteen people I assumed were casters,
who all stopped talking and looked at me as I entered.

I pulled in a
deep breath. “Good day, everyone. I’m Shield Dunleavy Mallorough.”

“
Erstwhile
Shield Dunleavy Mallorough,” an older gentleman corrected me. “That’s your
proper title.”

Fine. I didn’t
care. “Thank you for the amendment. May I know your name?”

He nodded.
“Caster Quennel Dench.”

That was the
first time I’d heard anyone use the word ‘caster’ as a title.

And then he
bowed
.
That was all kinds of wrong.

It got worse.
Every single one of them bowed as they introduced themselves.

And they all
used ‘caster’ as a title. That was almost as disturbing. It was as though
they’d erased their former lives.

Each one was
respectful. Some even smiled. It put me off my stride. I’d been expecting them
all to be hostile. “I’d like to observe you all for a time as you perform what
casts you can, so I can see where your skills are.”

And undermine
all of them.

Everyone was
swift to agree. They separated and began searching through their ingredients. I
wandered around and watched them. It quickly became clear that they were not
particularly talented, nor particularly well taught.

Ideas came to
me, ideas about crippling their efforts. I would divide them into groups. Not
just the bad ones from the better ones. Maybe smaller, more numerous units.
Teach them all different things, so that when they talked to each other, they
wouldn’t have anything in common to say. Praise some too highly, denigrate the
worst. That might make them dislike each other, and most people couldn’t work
well with people they didn’t like.

After a couple
of hours, I thanked them and dismissed them. Dench chose to remain behind. “You
didn’t mention the black cloud cast,” he pointed out in a mild tone.

“I didn’t see
anyone demonstrate the kind of skill I consider necessary to perform a cast of
that difficulty.” This was not actually a lie. “Are there some able to do so?”

“The only ones
who had acquired the skill died in the prison riot.”

“I’m sorry to
hear that.” Sort of. They were people who died, but they were also people
helping Gifford engage in cruel, reprehensible acts. I wasn’t sure how to feel.

Dench shrugged.
I supposed he didn’t care. “But you will teach us in time.”

“Of course, once
I know it’s safe to do so.”

That
was
a lie.

“Excellent.” He
bowed again and left.

Really, I wasn’t
entitled to a bow, but while I hadn’t been there long, I thought I was
beginning to see how Erstwhile worked. Or, rather, didn’t work.

No one actually
knew the rules because the rules changed all the time. People didn’t know what
they could do, what anyone else could do. Probably everyone was spying on
everyone else, and everyone knew it. Gifford demeaned us by having Taro running
errands, but the casters seemed to think I was a route to the Emperor’s ear.
They didn’t know how to treat me, so they sort of went all over the place. The
casters bowed to me because I had, for the moment, been put in a position of
authority over them, and they assumed I would be reporting about them to
someone. But they couldn’t get too attached to me, either. I might be executed
the next day.

How could a
government run that way? How could anything?

As we had in
Shidonee’s Gap – perhaps this had been inspired by our schedule at the Arena –
I was to teach the casters in the morning, and then Taro and I were to teach
the Pairs in the afternoon. I went looking for Taro, who wasn’t likely to be
playing cards but fetching wine and delivering messages.

And that was
what he was doing, so it took me ages to track him down. “Ready to go?” I asked
wrily. “Or do we have an excuse to skip it all?”

“I wish,” he
muttered.

Another Imperial
Guard showed us to another building that looked exactly like the building the
casters were in, but in a different part of the city. As though the two groups
were being kept apart deliberately. Interesting.

There were no
Pairs waiting for us. The Guard left to round them up. He didn’t leave the
building, so I assumed the Pairs were just waiting in other rooms. It was
reasonable to believe that they’d known we were coming, and at what time. So
why hadn’t they gathered in the large, empty wooden room that was clearly built
for lessons?

To make some
kind of point?

The first Pair
to be brought in was one I hadn’t seen in years, but remembered very well.

Shield Miho
Ogawa and Source Val Tenneson had been on the High Scape roster when Taro and I
had first been posted there. A particularly brutal channelling had killed off
all Pairs other than Ogawa and Tenneson and Taro and me. The experience had
left Ogawa terrified of Shielding again, fearing it so much that the next time
Tenneson channelled, Ogawa couldn’t force herself to protect him. This would
have killed both of them.

I had happened
to be visiting with them at the time, and had been forced to step in and Shield
Tenneson myself. One wasn’t supposed to Shield someone else’s Source. It was
not only discourteous but more dangerous and difficult than Shielding one’s own
Source. In this instance, however, I was able to do it.

Ogawa had
immediately resented it. I had saved both of their lives, as well as
potentially thousands of lives among High Scape’s residents, but Ogawa had
accused me of showing off at her expense. She hadn’t forgiven me before the
Triple S had called her and Tenneson back to Shidonee’s Gap.

It had been the
end of a fledgling friendship. I hadn’t heard any word of them since then, and
I had pretty much forgotten about them.

From the look of
her, Ogawa still hadn’t forgiven me for stepping on her toes.

Tenneson hadn’t
demonstrated any animosity at the time. He’d been reasonable. I didn’t know
what he was feeling right then, though. I couldn’t decipher him.

“Ogawa,
Tenneson,” I greeted them. “I didn’t know you were here.”

Ogawa snorted.
“No reason why you should,” she said scornfully.

True.

“Of course, we
weren’t so honoured as to be summoned here,” she added. “Only Karish and
Mallorough are worthy of being the Erstwhile Pair.”

When had she
come to feel such high regard for a position most Pairs considered something of
a joke and a waste of their skills? I asked, “So you chose to come here?”

“The Triple S
was never going to let us channel again,” Ogawa said bitterly. “Even when I
promised I could Shield again, it didn’t matter. The council told us we might
as well accept we were never going to be anything more than staff to them. They
told us we could go wherever we felt like, to leech off the regulars while
giving nothing in return. So when the Emperor sent out his invitations, we came
here. It was the only way we were going to do what we’d been trained to do.”

Other Pairs had
been drifting in as she spoke. “Were you promised land too?” I asked, loud
enough for everyone to hear.

Some of the
others seemed shocked. And then a Source hissed at Ogawa, “The Emperor promised
you
land?”

“No,” Ogawa
responded quickly.

And people
called me a bad liar.

To stir the
tension up a little more, I said, “That’s what I heard.”

“You heard
wrong,” Ogawa snapped.

I shrugged.

Most of the
Pairs glared at Ogawa. It appeared they believed me over her. Interesting.

More Pairs
trickled in. I counted nineteen in all. Considerably fewer than had been
working at the Arena when I’d been summoned. Good. Maybe the Triple S would be
able to convince Gifford to give up his paranoid plans by pointing out their
superior numbers.

Once they were
all there, Taro clapped his hands. “All right, everyone outside. We’re going to
start with something simple.”

‘Something
simple’ was moving the soil. Some Sources could make the ground shift around a
bit, but only the top soil, and not far. Which made sense, I supposed. Pairs
with a lot of talent were much in demand. Those that weren’t felt denigrated by
inferior posts or no posts at all. The Emperor might not have been able to lure
in the best.

Ogawa and
Tenneson were one of the few Pairs to move soil.

“This is
inexcusable,” said Taro, feigning disgust. “Who’s been teaching you?”

“Source Bertsan
and Shield Delis,” Ogawa said shortly.

The previous
Erstwhile Pair.

“They weren’t
very good,” Ogawa continued. “The Emperor was displeased. They were executed.”

Oh gods. Really?
Had he made up a crime for them, too, or had he simply used lack of talent as
an excuse? Either way, how could I afford to let the casters wallow in
ignorance? I would make me partially responsible for their deaths.

No. They were
choosing to take their chances with Gifford, knowing what he was like. They
were anxious to learn the black cloud cast, which was meant to kill. Their
blood would not be on my hands.

Really.

If Taro felt any
apprehension, he hid it well. “I can’t do anything with you until you can all
move more soil,” he said. “Do it again.”

Ogawa crossed
her arms. “That’s the instruction from the great Source Karish, the Stallion of
the Triple S?”

It had been ages
since we’d heard that wretched moniker, one pinned on Taro when he was still in
the Academy, one that had followed him into the world outside, to his horror.
It hadn’t been a compliment. It was meant to imply that Taro was nothing but
flash who would sleep with anyone who breathed.

People had
stopped referring to him in that way in Flown Raven. I’d almost forgotten about
it.

Taro didn’t
respond to Ogawa’s dig. “I learned how to shift soil by watching another
Source. Some of you can already do it. The others can watch. Then you can
practise and actually put some effort into it. You should be ashamed of
yourselves.”

“This is how he
got everyone on the continent to sleep with him?” one of the Shields muttered.

Being in
Erstwhile had to be making me violent, because I really wanted to stomp over to
the woman and give her a smack.

Chapter Seventeen

Taro and I were
unseeable.

Thanks to
Natson’s book, we knew where Gifford’s office was, and Taro was working the
lock. It was taking him longer than I liked. I bit my tongue to prevent myself
from asking Taro if he was sure he knew what he was doing.

We didn’t have a
decent plan for getting information. I’d hoped that by this time, nearly two
weeks after our arrival, Taro would have charmed someone into telling us
something useful, but no one would talk to us. Or even around us. They’d bow to
us when they couldn’t pretend we weren’t there, they would exchange shallow
greetings with stiff smiles. They no doubt knew we were supposed to relay to
the Emperor everything we heard them say, and they were protecting themselves.

We didn’t want
to linger in Erstwhile any longer than we had to. That meant we had to take
some risks: collect as much information as we could and take the first chance
to escape. We couldn’t be sure whether Gifford’s private office would have
anything worth seeing, but it was the only place we could think of.

It was the
middle of the night, and every time an Imperial Guard walked by, as they did at
frequent intervals, we had to stand still and hold our breath and fight the
certainty that the Guards could see us. It was one of the reasons it was taking
Taro as long as it was to jack the lock.

And then he
finally, finally did, and we eased across the threshold with the door opened at
the tiniest crack we could manage.

There was no one
in the office. One good piece of luck.

We’d decided we
had to risk a couple of candles in order to thoroughly search the room. We lit
two, the glow they emitted faint in the darkness of the large room.

We started at
the enormous desk. Each drawer was locked, but those locks were simpler than
the one on the door, so Taro quickly had them clicking.

There was a
scant pile of documents in one drawer. Some were letters from titleholders and
merchants complaining of taxes pushed up too high, regulations too restrictive,
and the replacement of their people by those chosen by Gifford.

Brave, idiotic
people to be sending words of disapproval.

Included in the
documents was a list of names. The names on the left side of the document, it
was written, were to be subjected to a mock trial and sentenced to execution.
Then all of their goods were to be given to the people listed on the right side
of the document. Four of the names on the left were staying at the palace.

The execution
warrants had already been signed by Gifford.

The document
included a schedule for the trials. None for the next couple of weeks. We had a
bit of time.

There was
nothing else in the desk.

Moving on, we
searched the book shelves, flipping through the books themselves. We stumbled
across a shelf that had been turned into a locked cabinet. We wouldn’t have
seen it in the dim light had we not been searching the shelves so carefully.

Taro cracked
that lock, too.

Inside the
cabinet were over a hundred small clay pots with black corks. I picked one of
them and pulled out the cork. The pot was filled by a fine gray powder. I stuck
my finger in, drew it out, and sniffed the residue. And was horrified.
“These
are human ashes!”

Taro froze for a
moment, and then he asked, “Are you sure?”

“Why else would
ashes be locked up?”

Human ashes were
thought to add power to casts. The ashes were usually added to the traditional
components of a spell. I didn’t know if the ashes actually did what they were
thought to do. I’d never used them in that way, because it was disgusting.

There had been a
thriving trade in human ashes in High Reach. People had been digging up the
ashes of those who had been fortunate during their lives. The ashes were then
sold to casters.

When the burial
grounds of High Scape started running low on dead fortunate people, the
procurers of the ashes had turned to murder to keep up their supply. There had
been some dispute as to whether a murder victim could be considered fortunate,
no matter what their life before had been. It appeared Gifford had decided they
could.

These ashes had
been made from those Gifford had ordered executed, I was sure of it.

I wondered why I
hadn’t been told of them. I was teaching Gifford’s casters, and ashes were
sometimes a part of casting.

Maybe he didn’t
trust me.

“We have to
spoil these somehow,” I said.

“With what?”
Taro asked.

I had no idea. I
could only improvise, using whatever was in the room. “Ashes from the
fireplace,” I suggested. “Ink from the desk. Ink can’t be a substance for
spreading ashes. Ink doesn’t spread well enough.”

“Ink will make
the ashes clump. It will be obvious something was done to them.”

“We can put the
ink on the bottom of the corks. No one will see it.”

“How will that
work?”

“I don’t know. I
don’t know what the hell I’m doing. Maybe it will soil the air in the pots.” I
knew it was weak. I couldn’t think of anything else.

I gathered up
some of the pots and carried them to the hearth. Taro did the same. It was
disturbing to see the pots floating through the air.

As swiftly as we
could, we poured in a small pinch of wooden ash in each pot and mixed it in
with a finger.

It was
disgusting, handling human ashes in that way. Desecrating them. The ash was
visible on our fingers. Sickening.

Once we were
done, we transferred the pots to the desk and dabbed ink on the bottom of each
cork.

It seemed to
take forever. The light of dawn was sneaking in when we finally began returning
the pots to the cabinet.

Before we were
done, the door started to open.

We blew out the
candles.

“Why is this
unlocked?” I heard Gifford grumble.

I saw the
cabinet close, and Taro’s fingers disappeared. Curled into his fists, I
imagined. I scooped the last of the pots into my arms and ducked under the
desk, shoving the pots between me and the desk-front.

“I’ll speak with
Swanis, Your Majesty,” said Green, referring to one of the maids.

Damn. I hoped we
hadn’t gotten someone into serious trouble.

“We don’t care
for many of the people you have brought to the palace,” said Gifford. “They
always seem to be insolent, incompetent, or untrustworthy.”

I heard him
approach. My heart pounded faster. But instead of sitting at the desk, he
pulled the chair away from it and collapsed into it.

I pressed my
lips together to stop a sigh of relief that really wasn’t warranted.

“I apologise for
my failures, Your Majesty. I fear it is more and more difficult to find people
possessed of true loyalty. That is no excuse, of course. I shall do better.”

“Damn Triple S,”
Gifford hissed. “Their hands are everywhere, soiling the proper order of
things. No one remembers their place.”

Green delicately
cleared her throat. “Perhaps the elevation of Source Karish and Shield
Mallorough – ”

“We won’t hear
ill of Karish!”

“Forgive me,
Your Majesty, but the Triple S may find the favour shown to their most
prestigious Pair a reason to feel more powerful than they should.”

“That is not the
responsibility of Karish,” Gifford stated in a harsh tone. “He has never shown
any ambition. He abjured his title and refused it when it was offered to him a
second time. At any time there has been a clash of interests between the
monarchy and the Triple S, Source Karish has supported the monarch. He has
sworn loyalty to Us. He participated in the trial of his own cousin with
honesty. We have proof he wasn’t involved in the riot at the prison. He has
made no attempt to contact anyone outside of the city. He has given Us no
reason to doubt his honour.”

“That is Karish’s
behaviour, Your Majesty,” Green pointed out. “We have no reason to believe
Mallorough shares his allegiance.”

“She has shown
no ambition, either. She has made no contact with anyone. She is his Shield and
will walk the path he chooses.”

After what had
happened to Tarce, we didn’t dare write any letters. We would have to wait
until we left Erstwhile before getting any information to anyone.

“Perhaps a small
test, Your Majesty.”

“You doubt Our
insight?” Gifford demanded sharply.

“No, no, Your
Majesty. Please forgive me.”

Green certainly
was doing a lot of grovelling.

“Are you well,
Your Majesty?” Green asked. “Your Majesty rose very early, and has an alarming
pallor.”

An abrupt change
of subject, perhaps to distract the Emperor from his displeasure with Green.

“Our dreams were
not restful.”

“Shall I ring
for ellish wine?”

“It makes Us
feel worse almost as often as it eases.”

“It will help
Your Majesty sleep.”

“There is too
much to do today.”

“I can speak for
Your Majesty.”

“No!” Gifford
snapped.

“Forgive me,
Your Majesty, but Lord Freund has been displaying some questionable behaviour.
Delay in addressing this behaviour may be dangerous.”

Freund was one
of the names on the execution list.

“We have
witnessed no odd behaviour,” Gifford said.

I frowned. Did he
not remember signing the execution order?

Or had he not
signed it at all? Had someone else applied his signature?

“Cancel the
meetings,” Gifford ordered. “They aren’t very important.”

“Yes, Your
Majesty. And the wine?”

After a long
pause, he said, “Yes. We’ll take it in Our chambers.”

“Very good, Your
Majesty.”

Gifford rose
from his chair. I closed my eyes in relief. This was why I didn’t see him shove
the chair back under the desk. It hit my elbow, hard, and I let out an, “Eep!”

I clapped my
hand over my mouth. Damn, hell, Zaire.

The chair was
yanked out again. “Let me, Your Majesty.” Green knelt on the floor.

She didn’t
really spend more than a moment looking right at me, it just felt like half an
hour. Then she replaced the chair, fast and hard. I was half-expecting that, so
I was able to keep the yip of pain behind my teeth.

I heard her
cross the room and yank open the drapes.

Gifford walked
out of the room without another word. I heard Green moving around a bit, but
eventually she left, too, locking the door behind her.

It was far too
late and bright, but it wasn’t as though we could linger in the office until
night. We put the last of the pots back into the cabinet and locked it.

Taro had to
unlock the office door to let us out and lock it again after. Thankfully, the
greater light allowed him to make short work of it and no Guards walked by.
Thoroughly worn out, we snuck back to our suite.

Because Taro and
I were so exhausted, our lessons that day were disastrous, but we blamed it on
the students and they seemed to accept it. At least, they didn’t dispute it. To
our faces.

That night, I
used the unseeable cast again, and we slipped notes under the doors of those
four people who had been chosen for execution, warning them of the Emperor’s
plans. We had to knock on the doors to wake the occupants so they would see the
notes before they were found by the maids entering their rooms in the morning.
It would have reminded me of pranks immature students played in the Academy, if
it hadn’t been so terrifying.

The next day,
everyone to whom we’d given a note was gone. I expected an uproar. I expected
to be closely questioned by someone. But there was nothing.

That made me
wonder if Gifford had no knowedge of that list, despite the fact that it was in
his desk, and that Green couldn’t move without attracting his ire.

Taro and I
decided we couldn’t get involved in any more escapades for the time being.
Green didn’t trust me, and further strange occurances would likely bring
dangerous attention to us. We would have to wait, pretend to be submissive, and
let things calm down a little.