Resenting the Hero (19 page)

“Only if you want to get booed off the stage,” Ogawa warned me.

“They frown on athletic displays,” Tenneson told me.

“You could sing something,” Ogawa suggested.

“No, I certainly could not.” Actually, my voice wasn't too bad, I could carry a tune within a limited range, but it certainly wasn't of the quality to be trotting out in front of others.

“It doesn't have to be good,” Ogawa assured me. “In fact, spectators often prefer that it isn't.”

“I'll bet.” Dodging fruit wasn't my idea of a good time, either.

“You could arrange some kind of group performance.”

“No.”
No way, no how.

“You have to do something, Mallorough. I'm serious.”

So was I. A law, was it? I would see about that. Someone would have to show me the act in the law book that said I was required to make a fool of myself in public. And even if there were a law so ridiculous, there had to be a way out of it. I mean, I could hardly perform if I wasn't in the city, could I? That trip to Flown Raven was sounding better all the time.

I opened my mouth to ask when exactly this Hallin Festival was held, then snapped it shut as something drew my attention to Tenneson. There was that stiffness of posture and the glazed look, screaming warning signs. He was about to channel.

And Ogawa panicked.

Not noticeably, or at least not to the eye of a regular, but to another Shield she might as well have broken into tears of hysteria. I saw her face go pale. I saw her bite her lip. I saw her eyes stay clear and outwardly focused.

If Tenneson was aware he was unprotected, he gave no sign of it. I wondered if Sources could feel their Shields' protections. Karish claimed he could feel mine. Not that there was much Tenneson could do, even if he could feel Ogawa's hesitancy. He was the only Source on duty. Responsibility and instinct—and trust—forced him to act.

“Shield him!” I snapped at Ogawa.

“I can't!” she admitted in a broken voice.

“What?”

“I can't!”

I'd understood her the first time. Her words, not her behavior. “If he dies, you die, and so do the rest of us.”

“I can't think! I can't do it!”

“What do you mean you can't?”

“You don't understand, Mallorough! It hurt too much last time!” She squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her hands to her temples as though she were in pain right then. “I can't do it!”

“So you're going to leave him unprotected?” What the hell was the matter with her?

“It hurt!”

“I don't care!” Zaire! I couldn't believe she was going to let her Source kill himself and anyone else who got in the way of whatever event was brewing. But there was no time to argue with her or smack her around. I looked at Tenneson.

I hadn't studied him, nothing beyond the casual observations presence and conversation unearthed. I had never mapped his blood flow, his brain ways, his interior shields. And I hadn't Shielded anyone other than Karish since being Chosen.

I was the only other Shield there.

So I Shielded him. It was hard. It was clumsy. But it was, evidently, good enough.

It wasn't another Rush. I didn't know if I could have Shielded him through something like that. Still, the disturbance was strong enough and lasted long enough that by the time it passed, I had developed a shattering headache from Shielding someone else's Source.

Tenneson was staring at me with astonishment.

Ogawa was staring at me with undisguised bitterness.

“What?” I asked.

“You do like making a spectacle of yourself, don't you?” Ogawa demanded angrily.

“Excuse me?”

“And you accuse Karish of being a glory hound!”

I'd never said any such thing to another person. “Your Source was endangering his life, and you were doing nothing,” I said coolly.

“So you stepped in and saved the day,” Ogawa spat. “The Great Shield Mallorough and her legendary Source, saving High Scape from the incompetence of its own veterans. Do you think I don't know how proud of that you are?” She laughed, and there was more than an edge of hysteria to the sound. Tenneson, looking as shocked as I felt, touched her shoulder. She slapped his hand away. “You hold your head so high and smile so smugly and look so pleased with yourself. You make me sick.”

Well, that had come out of nowhere.

Tenneson offered me his hand. “I think you'd better go now,” he said quietly. “Miho and I need to talk.”

“Aye, Mallorough, perhaps you'd better go monitor the streets,” Ogawa added with heavy sarcasm. “You know no one is safe without you to take care of them.”

And Tenneson had better hope there would be no other events during his watch. I ignored his hand as I stood.

Tenneson followed me to the door, and once I was outside he touched my shoulder sympathetically. “Miho doesn't like to fail,” he said.

But I was a Shield. One who was properly trained, and who would never let a stupid thing like fear prevent me from doing my job, or anger and hurt prevent me from being civil. So I nodded at Tenneson. “Have a good shift,” I said, and let him close the door behind me.

What the hell was wrong with everyone, anyway?

Chapter Fifteen

Karish was going home. He was still weak, but his wounds were healing nicely, and if he was careful, he was safe from infection. So I'd been told. Also he'd threatened to walk out whether they authorized it or not, so really they'd had no choice. I thought it was too early, but no one ever listened to me. In only a few weeks, the healers said, if all went well, he'd be fit to work.

Thank the gods. Not to be selfish, but I had been going out of my mind with boredom. I had never been so inactive for so long in my entire life. No duties, no classes, my Source in the hospital, my only friend still largely confined to his house, and a potential friend refusing to speak to me. Oh, and then there was the constant fear of getting killed, with nothing to distract me from my thoughts. It had not been a fun couple of weeks.

There had been no attacks on me or on Karish. Still, I was a wreck waiting for the assault that never came, and I was quite prepared to seek out this enemy of Karish's and dismember him, slowly, to thank him for the way he had disrupted my life.

Only I wouldn't be back on the roster any time soon, if ever. Once Karish was able we would be off to Flown Raven, where we could clear up the business with the whole assassination/jealous heir situation. We had no choice. The Runners still didn't know who was responsible, and if they had any theories, they were refusing to tell me.

Once we were there, Karish would accept his title. I had no idea what I would do when that happened, and I didn't want to think about it.

Karish had written to the Triple S council from the hospital, explaining about his prospective title, and they had given him permission to go to Flown Raven and be duke. Not that permission was required. The title was a higher duty. I hadn't been mentioned in the correspondence. I figured I could pretty much do as I liked because I was useless and, as a Paired Shield with no chance of spontaneously bonding, harmless.

Maybe I could work on figuring out what those strange Rushes had been. There had been no more after the first three, and perhaps they had been only an aberration of some kind, but I felt there had to be a better explanation than that, and it was important that we know it. I didn't know if it was something I could explore on my own, though, without a Source.

But Tenneson no longer had a functioning Shield. He and Ogawa had been taken off the roster, too. So maybe he and I could work together. That sort of thing had never been done before, but when had that ever mattered?

I had come to the hospital to escort Karish home. It was a move to head off the horde who would bicker for the privilege and probably show up en masse. I could see Karish limping home with his dozens of fans scampering after him like rats, none of them noticing how exhausted he was and how little he wanted their company. I could accompany him alone, without offending anyone, and I didn't expect him to entertain me.

At the moment, we were waiting for final permission from Healer McLean to leave. Sick of being in bed, Karish was sitting in a chair while I sprawled on his cot. He was opening a paper package that I had brought him the day before, offering it to me. I shook my head. “You're a most unnatural creature, Lee,” he declared. “You don't seem to have the proper understanding of the importance of chocolate.” He snapped off a sliver and popped it into his mouth, sucking on it instead of chewing it like a normal person.

I liked chocolate well enough. I just didn't love it. I could go a day or a week without eating it. Karish was addicted. I'd had to bring him a package every few days to keep him supplied, and I knew I wasn't the only one bringing it to him.

I looked at the table, cleared of the flowers and letters visitors had been bringing to him. “Where are your tributes?”

“Sent ahead.” He snapped off another piece, then rewrapped the package almost reverently. “How's life?”

He asked me that every day. “Same as yesterday.”

“Miho speaking to you yet?”

I shrugged. I hadn't told Karish about my Shielding Tenneson, and I didn't know who had. A couple of days after it had happened, he had greeted me with a smug smile when I came in to visit him. He'd asked me why I hadn't told him I was brilliant. I'd said I'd assumed it was obvious. “Apparently not.”

“You can't blame her.”

I most certainly could, but I didn't bother saying so.

“You've proved to her that she's useless.”

And Zaire knew I understood how that felt. “So you've said before.”

“You did her job. You Shielded her Source.”

I was drawn into the argument despite myself. “I should have let him die?”

“Of course not. I'm not saying you made the wrong decision. You did the only thing you could, and Tenneson should be forever grateful. But surely you can understand how she feels.”

“I'd understand if she feels ashamed for falling apart, but she has no right to be angry with me for having to do the job she refused to do.” Especially not for so long. She should have forgiven me before then. Not that she had anything to forgive me for.

Change the subject. “What's the first thing you'll do when you get home?”

“Take a bath,” he muttered. “It'll be a nice change not to have an audience.” I cocked a brow at that, thinking of all the people who would be desperate to attend him. He mimicked my expression. “Unless, of course, you'd like to scrub my back.”

“I dream about it nightly.”

He grinned.

“How are you?”

“One of the healers could give you a total rundown of all my bodily functions.”

“No, I mean about your”—I paused, gesturing vaguely, wondering what idiocy had caused me to even bring it up—“family.”

“What aspect of it?” he asked coolly. “That one of them apparently wants me dead? Or do you want to know whether natural grief has struck me yet?”

Definitely a bad idea. “Whatever.”

“I got a lovely little missive from Her Grace. Care to hear about it?”

“Probably not,” I said uncomfortably.

“Oh, but you should. It is the essence of elegance and style as she informs me of my duty to attend her. She wants me in Flown Raven. She wants me there immediately. Yesterday would be even better.”

“She doesn't know you're in hospital?”

“I wrote to her about it. Not in explicit detail, of course. Far too likely to upset a lady of her delicate sensibilities.” He snickered, and I didn't ask. “But I let her know some ruffian had thought to use me as a whetting stone and that as a result I was spending some time in hospital.” He smiled that bitter little smile he seemed to use whenever he thought of his family. “She chided me for allowing it to happen.”

“For
allowing
some thug to attack you?”

“Shows an unseemly lack of control, don't you know. I am a duke, after all. Or almost. I owe a lot to our revered name. I can't allow such distasteful disruptions to occur in my vicinity.” His accent grew stronger in the last phrase, and I knew he was quoting her.

I studied him for a moment, trying to interpret his expression. “No,” I decided finally. He was pulling my leg. He had to be. No one would say something like that. Not to her own son. Not to anyone, really. Not only was it heartless, it was just plain stupid.

He patted his clothes. Apparently he had the letter on him somewhere. “Want to see it?”

He was serious. I shook my head and thought of how I had misspent the night we had bonded. We should have spent the night with my family. Father would have grilled him on gambling, Mother on politics, Kaaren and Dias would have teased him to tears, and Miko would have drooled all over him. I knew now that he would have gotten on with them beautifully. I wondered if he had any idea what a normal family was like. His mother sounded like a horror, and the thought that he would have to live in close proximity with her was depressing.

The door opened without anyone knocking. I quickly sat up on the cot.

I'd seen Healer McLean before, on my visits to Karish. He was a tall, dark, stern-looking middle-aged man who always made me feel I had no right to be there. I couldn't help being what Karish called my most Shield-like whenever I was around the healer.

McLean nodded a greeting to me, then said to Karish, “You can go now. Can't say I'm sorry. You've brought a lot of confusion with you.”