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Authors: Moira J. Moore

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BOOK: Resenting the Hero
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“Healer Dickens, there is nothing wrong with me that lemon tea won't fix. Sorry for the wasted trip.” Especially since he wasn't going to get paid for it.
“I'm not finished my examination,” he said, trying for my temples again.
I blocked his hands and glared at him as hard as I could. “It's a Shield thing.” Here's to hoping he didn't really know anything about Shields. It sounded like he didn't. “I need sleep. Please go.”
He was offended. Too bad. Whatever had happened, it was nothing he could do anything about. He was willing enough to leave, though. I got the feeling he didn't care for the neighborhood. He lingered a little too long, hoping to be paid and offended all over again when he realized that wasn't going to happen. Then he left, finally.
I really didn't like healers.
“Told you there was no point,” a woman—the same one as earlier—said to Aiden. “Right quack, he was.”
“Something was wrong with her,” Aiden said sullenly.
“Nothing a healer can fix.” I sat up slowly. I'd been stretched out on the bed, and though I didn't really want to be going anywhere, I thought I'd better find out what had happened.
“So what was it?” Aiden asked.
“Strange channeling.”
“It has to be more than that. You were screaming.”
“Aye,” the woman said dryly. “I heard you from one street over.”
So that's what happened to my throat. Lovely. I must have looked like a lunatic. I had to find Karish and ask him what he'd done. Maybe I'd smack him around a bit, too. I rose to my feet, and my head didn't swim too much.
“Where are you going?” Aiden said sharply.
“Home.” And if he wasn't there, to the taverns until I found him.
“Sit back down! You're not going anywhere.”
Oh, lord, I was in no condition to be patient. “Sorry to scare you, Aiden. I will come back soon.”
He struggled up to his feet. “Lie down, Dunleavy,” he tried to order me.
I looked at the woman, who was watching Aiden with amusement. “Dunleavy Mallorough.” I offered my hand.
She shook it. “Clair Donner.”
“Thank you.”
“No worries. Take care.”
“I mean it, Dunleavy.”
I looked back at him. “Aiden,” I said, and that was all I said. It was enough, for he was silent as I left. It appeared he was a smart lad. I liked that in a man.
The streets looked normal. No sign of imminent disaster hastily averted. That, I supposed, was only how it should be, but I felt that a few of the buildings should have fallen down, or that there should be a wild eye or two. Well, a wild eye caused by something other than a stimulant.
Maybe it hadn't been a near disaster at all. Maybe it had been something totally unrelated to what Karish and I were supposed to be doing. Some other secret talent Karish hadn't bothered to tell me about.
I didn't find Karish at the residence. I didn't find anyone else there, either. I did find Karish in a tavern, surrounded by people. The atmosphere was subdued, though. Karish and about four others sat around a table, talking quietly. Only Karish wasn't talking, but staring off into space. He looked a little pale, his eyes a little wild, and his hair was particularly disordered. He saw me as soon as I entered and rose from the table, rushing over to me.
He hugged me, and I was so shocked by it I could neither fend him off nor hug him back. “Are you all right?” he asked when he pulled back, his voice a rusty mess. He put a hand to the side of my face, careful of the temple. He knew where the pain had been. “I went to the residence but you weren't there.”
I suddenly felt wonderful. Warm and relaxed, and my throat didn't hurt at all. “What happened?” I asked in a whisper, for the regulars were watching us.
He shrugged, standing back a pace. “It wasn't normal,” he said in a low voice. “I didn't know what disaster it was going to be.”
He was saving his words, but he'd said enough to alarm me, for of course Sources always knew what kind of disaster was coming. They could just tell.
Karish seemed uncomfortable. He wasn't looking straight at me. He was rubbing the palm of my hand with his thumb. “Are you in pain?” I asked him.
He smiled a little. “Not now.” He tugged on my hand. “Come. Sit.”
There was no need for that. As he was all right, I would go back to Aiden and reassure him that I wasn't about to keel over. “No, thanks. I'll go home.”
He let my hand drop. Every ache and pain came screaming back.
A group of men crowded into the tavern. One glanced our way, eyes lighting on our braids. “You two'd best head over to the Upper Eastern hospital,” he said bluntly. I wondered how he knew we had suffered some pain. Did we look that bad? “There's word some of your crew are dead.”
We gaped at him, then at each other, and then we ran. Not fun, with the way my head was feeling.
We got to the hospital, where we were instantly recognized for what we were, and we were shown to a cool room in the basement where the bodies of Van Staal, Rundle, South, and Ali were laid out. There wasn't a single mark on any of them, and they were dead. Over the next few hours, the pale and silent bodies of McKenna, Farin, Mao, Arter, Febray, and Heiner were brought in. Ogawa and Tenneson had been brought to the hospital, too, but they weren't dead. They were in a deep sleep and couldn't be roused.
The healers asked us what had happened. All Karish could say was that there had been a strange sort of disaster, which didn't help the healers any. Or us. Because for the moment what had happened didn't really matter. All that was important right then was that the only thing standing between High Scape and its next disaster was us. One novice Pair.
I couldn't help glaring at Karish. I would have never landed in this situation if he weren't my Source. It was starting already. The trials and tribulations of being Paired to a hero. It was a childish thought. And selfish. But it was true.
Chapter Eight
Karish was watching me. It annoyed me. Not that he was watching me, but that I was aware of it. My attention should have been wholly absorbed by the letter in front of me, the letter I hadn't even started writing yet and had to finish as soon as possible. I rubbed the back of my neck, which was aching nicely, and dipped the quill in the ink.
“My lord and lady Mao, it is with deepest regret that I beg leave to inform you . . .”
The event we had helped channel was not a normal occurrence in High Scape. Obviously, as the Pairs in High Scape didn't have a habit of dying due to channeling. Karish said he'd had to channel it, even though we weren't on duty, for it had felt as though the forces were aimed right at him, and he'd had to react almost in self-defense. He had then refused to elaborate on what he meant in making that claim. Natural disasters didn't have minds of their own; they didn't attack people. They just happened.
As the only functioning Pair left in High Scape, Karish and I were on duty constantly until other Pairs arrived in High Scape to relieve us. So we had to stay together all the time. We didn't go to the Stall, which was too small to actually live in for any length of time, but we also never left the Triple S residence.
“. . . while in the line of duty . . .”
It had been a hellish two days. “Seeing to the others,” and all that entailed. Mostly contacting everyone in High Scape who knew them, arranging to have their belongings collected, arranging interment procedures. I'd sent messages to the nearest sites begging any Pairs who could be spared to come to High Scape. Karish and I had written reports describing what had happened, to be sent to Shidonee's Gap.
“I did not know your son well but . . .”
I was writing letters of condolence to all the next of kin. Each letter took forever, as I struggled to put something personal into missives about people I barely knew, to people I had never met. I had been taught how to write such letters at the academy, formal phrases that were probably offensive to read, phrases that I'd always sworn never to use. That was why it took so long.
“. . . kind to me from our first meeting, always ready with a warm smile and sensible advice . . .”
This was the job of the veteran Shield of the site. That was what I was, until Ogawa and Tenneson woke up. Less than two months out of the academy, and I was a veteran. What a horrible joke.
I jumped at the touch of hands on my shoulders. I smudged some of the ink on the paper. I glared up at Karish, even as a wave of warmth flooded through me, easing out the pains I still carried from that horrible channeling.
He ignored the look. “Take a break, Lee.” His voice was still a little rough. “You haven't stopped since the Rush.”
That was what he'd called it. That was what it had felt like to him, an overwhelming rush of power that, he'd said, almost drowned him. “I have to finish these,” I said, and my voice wouldn't have won any prizes, either.
“Not tonight.”
“As soon as possible. They have the right to know as soon as possible.” It was the very least I could do, after all that had happened. “Before they start hearing rumors.”
He released my shoulders and knelt beside my chair. The aches and pains came rushing back. “Granted,” he said, and it took me a moment to remember in response to what. “But it's not a priority right now. We're the only Pair left, Lee. We need our minds to be clear and alert. How well could you Shield right now?”
I sighed and rubbed my tired eyes. The truth was that I really didn't want to think about Shielding again. It hadn't been much fun the last time.
“You know I'm right.”
Of course I knew he was right. My brain was numb, and a headache was humming at the base of my skull. But I was afraid of stopping. I knew once I stopped it would be very hard to start up again. Unpleasant jobs were best done quickly, with no pauses.
He rubbed my arm, a light and soothing touch. I was tired, and the returning flood of warmth was pleasant, so I didn't snap at him. Because I was tired and it had nothing to do with what I was supposed to be doing, my mind wandered as it had an evil tendency to do, and the realization came to me that Karish had dropped the flirtatious manner—with me, at least—ages ago, yet he still had a tendency to touch me when I stood too close, or when he wanted my attention. As he did with everyone. That had been my second realization. He seemed to touch all people a lot, and not even Lord Shintaro Karish could want to sleep with
everyone.
Besides, it felt good.
“I have to finish these,” I repeated firmly, only to have my stomach growl. Loudly.
Karish didn't laugh, but I could feel he was amused. “Dinner's ready,” he said. “Eat and sleep. I'll help you with the letters after.”
“You will not,” I said with asperity. “It's my duty.”
“I know how to write,” he answered sharply.
“What has that to do with anything?” His response was to rise to his feet and pull me to mine by the shoulders. “Karish!”
“I'm aware you'll be breaking some rule of yours by eating with me,” he said coolly. “But for the horseshoe nail, and all, eh?”
Ben was too busy packing up the belongings of the slain Pairs to see to Karish and me right then. Karish and I were doing for ourselves, which meant little in the way of cooking. We ate a quick meal of bread, fruit, cheese, and cold meat. I didn't think I could manage more, anyway.
Inevitably, upon eating I became exhausted, my eyes and head filling with sand. I was suddenly so tired I could easily be persuaded to just put my head down on the table and go to sleep.
Karish narrowed his eyes at me. “Are you all right?”
“Certainly.”
“Would you tell me if you weren't?”
“Certainly.”
“Well, you look awful. Go to bed.”
I sighed. I really didn't think I could face those letters and do them justice. And if there were another disaster I would be useless and kill us both. So yes, it was time to get some sleep.
“I will clean,” said Karish, taking my plate before I could pick it up.
“You're being too nice, and I don't like it,” I said bluntly.
“That's not the reason I'm doing it,” he said, deadpan. “Though it is an added benefit.”
I couldn't hold back my smile. The sentiment was one I'd had so often it was almost frightening to hear it coming from Karish. But it didn't show either of us in a mature light, that we did things simply to annoy the other partner. That was something I would have to think about. Later.
I didn't sleep as deeply as my exhaustion had led me to expect. I ended up tossing quite a bit, my head filled with strange dreams. Karish played a role, which was annoying but understandable. The strange thing was that Stevan Creol made an appearance, too, and I hadn't even thought of him since I was Chosen. When I woke, any coherence or plot the dreams might have had crumbled away. I hated it when that happened. It made me feel like I'd left something unfinished.
I got out of bed, changed my clothes, and left the room, making some effort to be quiet. It was morning, but early. No reason to wake Karish.
Who was at the table I'd been occupying the night before, writing letters. My mouth tightened, but I decided not to say anything. It was my duty, not his, but if he was so damned determined to write letters, there was no reason not to let him. Maybe it was part of his way of dealing with what had happened. If so, it would be petty of me to snipe at him for it, though I really didn't like him interfering with my work. “Have you been up long?” I asked him, and my voice was calm.
BOOK: Resenting the Hero
9.93Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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