Resenting the Hero (32 page)

I was not going to start lusting after my own Source. Not seriously lusting, with the intention of doing something about it. It would be stupid and careless and irresponsible.
Just put the idea right out of your mind, girl.

Of course, the insidious voice inside my head whispered, lust wasn't nearly as inconvenient as love. It was much easier to satisfy. A few nights in bed and the whole problem would be laid to rest. So to speak.

I could rationalize with the best of them.

I threw back the light sheet with the intention of getting out of bed and pacing. I got as far as sitting up, then something niggled at my mind.

Something was wrong. The restlessness I was feeling, it did have some similarity to sexual tension, but it was different. I could feel something skittering under my skin. I couldn't explain it, and I didn't like it.

It was too quiet.

I left the room and stood in the corridor. Complete silence. Which was only natural, it was the middle of the night. But the silence felt too complete, too settled. Like I was the only person in the residence.

I quietly made my way downstairs, unsure why. I knew I wouldn't be able to get back to sleep. Maybe I'd warm up some milk, and in the meantime, take a look around.

Aiden's lyre wasn't where he'd left it the night before. Which, in itself, wasn't strange. He'd left it on a chair in the living room, in the way of anyone wanting to sit in said chair. Maybe he'd come back down to take it to his room.

Aiden, I had noticed, was not the most organized of people. But maybe someone else had moved it after Aiden had gone to bed.

But it wasn't anywhere else in the living room, either.

There wasn't a single pair of boots near the front entrance, where everyone had been leaving them the day before.

All right, I was going to make a fool of myself. I didn't care. I couldn't let these little signs slide, especially when there was still that feeling in the air making me so jumpy. I went back upstairs and knocked on the first door.

I got no response. So I opened the door. No one was sleeping in the room.

No one was sleeping in any of the rooms. The whole residence was empty, except for me.

What the hell was going on?

I went back to my room to dress, and then I left the residence, still taking pains to be quiet. I wasn't sure why, except that the feeling of the night seemed to demand it. Everywhere around me, it was dark and still. That just wasn't normal. In one of the domiciles about me, there should have been a light on for a late-night conversation or an aspiring writer scribbling away at a manuscript after the chores were done. A romantic tryst, an argument, an illness, there should have been something happening somewhere, but every house was dead quiet.

I wasted some time searching through the town, heading for the taverns first. The most obvious place, I thought, thinking of Aiden's missing lyre. But the taverns were closed, and pounding on the doors didn't rouse anyone. I looked through the windows of quite a few houses, much to my shame, and saw nothing. I even went by the brothels. They, too, were empty, which was almost unbelievable. That, more than anything else, convinced me something was seriously out of order.

The sense of restlessness, the need to do something, was still plaguing me, even after all that brisk walking. It wasn't natural for me. I didn't hold on to physical sensations for so long. I had to be reacting to something that was still active. The job was to find out what.

Where was everyone? Where could they all go?

Where could they all go?

Of course. How stupid of me. The civic center.

Perhaps the residents of Middle Reach were more community minded than I'd thought. Sure, it was the middle of the night, and the civic center was a tumbledown wreck, but that was the only place I could think of that could accommodate what seemed like the whole town. Unless they had all just decided to pack up and leave, and while I couldn't blame them if they did, doing it all at once in the dead of night without taking their gear would be a little weird.

Feeling a bit nervous, I turned on my heel and at a quick pace headed in the direction of the civic center. It wasn't long before I could see the dilapidated building, and the lighting and movement within.

Though I wondered why I bothered. What did I care if Middle Reach voted on community affairs in the middle of the night? It even made a certain amount of sense. It was a time when most people were free to participate in political debate. Businesses were closed, farming was impossible, children were asleep. I didn't know why more cities didn't do it.

I was wasting my time, that was the pathetic truth. I was out in the middle of nowhere playing hero while Karish was undergoing some horrible experience in Flown Raven. I should have gone to Flown Raven.

I couldn't calm down. It was getting worse. The restlessness was getting stronger. My heart was picking up its pace, and my feet were yearning to do something more interesting than walking. Dancing seemed like a good idea.

No. Fighting. That, to be honest, was what I really wanted to do. I wanted to find some two-dimensionally evil foe and beat the hell out of him. With a sword. With two swords. I'd be whirling them through the air with expert ease, wearing some form-fitting leather outfit that made me look lean and lethal. In my fantasy I'd slay him effortlessly.

In reality I'd be fish bait. I knew that. But that didn't stop the bizarre images rampaging through my head.

I wouldn't be fighting anyone that night. I would have to settle for jogging, which helped a little.

And then I knew what it was.

It was music.

I could hear it then, very faint, a barely perceptible sound, just tickling at my ears. And it was coming from the civic center, I was sure. I didn't know how it had affected me all the way in the residence, where I couldn't even hear it, but that wasn't important right then. I was just relieved there was nothing embarrassing causing my reactions.

So there was a late-night performance after all. I wondered why I wasn't told of it. It couldn't have been because I was an outsider, because so was Aiden.

Should I go on? The better I could hear the music, the more dangerous it became for me. This music, it was not just any music. It was pounding, jarring, glorious music, the kind that carried a person away and scared me to death. It was already making me feel aggressive, and I couldn't even properly hear it yet. What would it do to me when it was drilling into my ears at full volume? I'd never been exposed to such music except under controlled circumstances, at the academy. Out on my own, no one keeping an eye on me, I didn't know how I would react.

On the other hand, I couldn't believe everyone in town was gathering for a late concert.
Everyone
was there. There was something going on, I was sure of it, and as the only Shield in Middle Reach who wasn't suffering from a feeling of oppression, it was up to me to investigate.

All right. As rationalizations went, that was weak. But I liked the music, and I was curious.

And I could do it. I could control myself. I had at Karish's party, where the music, though different in nature, had been just as moving. Sure, I had gotten a little carried away in the beginning, but I had stopped myself before doing anything truly stupid. I would do so again. I just had to hang on to something and not let go. As I didn't have anything physical handy, I'd have to settle for something mental. Like an image of how Karish would crow if I lost control. Oh, aye, he would love that, to see me lose my balance. He'd never get the chance.

I moved on.

But it was difficult, much more than I'd expected. The music got louder. It was beautiful, stirring, and yet there was something sinister about it, though I couldn't say what. Some of the notes, though all in tune, still felt a little off somehow, and it struck an eerie chord within me. And there were words to it. No stanzas or a chorus that I could hear, but some kind of chant. I couldn't decipher the words with any clarity, but the chanting added a chilling, urgent quality.

The closer I got to the civic center, the louder the music got, and the more difficult it became to hold on to my grounding thought. The images of running, of fighting, of danger, grew stronger. I bit hard on the side of my cheek and tasted blood. It helped a little. “Calm down!” I snapped at myself.

But I was running, a full sprint. I'd started running without being aware of it. When the civic center loomed large I wanted to run straight to the closest door and burst through it.

I ran to the closest window instead, the music and the light pouring over me. I rose to my toes and peered through the broken glass.

I stared. I hadn't actually believed that the entire town was there, but it seemed that they were, from the youngest toddler to the oldest crone. Hundreds of people sat or knelt on the floor, all of them dressed in black with thick red bands around their arms. Dozens more stood in some kind of formation, chanting to the accompaniment of an orchestra, of which Aiden appeared to be a member. And torches were scattered everywhere, painting bizarre, warped shadows on pale faces.

To one side was a huge cage, tall iron bars ground into the dirt where the flooring had been ripped up. All the Shields I had met the day before were in the cage, but they didn't appear to be unhappy prisoners. They were grinning like fools and dancing and pulling on the bars to the beat of the music, chanting with the others.

And at the center of attention was Creol, standing on a small platform, dressed in a black tunic and black leggings and a full cape of deep red. Very dramatically, he thrust his fist into the air as he and his followers chanted one word over and over. “Freedom! Freedom! Freedom!”

It was glorious.

He was standing so tall and strong, every hard line vibrating with passion.

He's wearing a
cape
.

And the music, it was so stirring, filling every heart with pride and determination.

A double entrance in the background flew open, the doors crashing against the walls. Dressed in slim, trim fighting uniforms of red and silver, their swords held high, the cream of young Middle Reach society marched in, chanting the words, their faces glowing with visions of violence.

A sudden flare of light, something like a contained fire-cracker. It went off in time to a crescendo in the music and briefly illuminated one side of Creol's face before fading away to nothing.

I dug my fingernails into the windowsill. I really wanted to run in there. They seemed to be having such a cathartic time. And I loved the colors.

I nearly swallowed my tongue when I was jerked from the window by the back of my shirt. Hands pushed me over the black grass. As I was stumbling over my own feet I managed to look back at two masculine faces just before being shoved at, and then through, the door.

No one noticed the intrusion at first. They were too wrapped up in the music and the sights and the flares of light. My captors dragged me through the crowd, indifferent to any body parts that might have been in our way. They threw me into the small space that had been left clear before Creol's platform. After a few more shouts of “Freedom!” he noticed my presence. He gave me one long, close look before raising both arms to signal an end to the theatrics. I had regained my feet and been shoved back to the floor by the time all the music and chanting had dribbled off.

And then there was silence. Not a single murmur, not the slightest rustling of cloth. Even the children were quiet as everyone in the building kept their eyes on the tiny circle around the platform.

It was hard, being forced to stay on my knees when I still wanted to run up and fight someone. My blood had slowed once the music had stopped, but the impulses were still there. I was emotionally unbalanced at a time when I really needed to be calm. Good thing Karish wasn't there to witness it.

Creol stepped down from the platform, came to me, surprised me by helping me to my feet. I let him guide me a few steps away from my captors, curious about what he was up to. “Do you like it?” he asked in a whisper.

That wasn't anything near what I might have expected, had I given the matter any thought. “Excuse me?”

He glanced back at the orchestra. “Everyone's susceptible to music, you know,” he said. “Not to the extent that Shields are, of course, but it's a rare person who won't be moved by powerful music played under the right circumstances. Darkness, fire, strong colors, healthy young people marching in uniform, some stirring words. Administer a few doses of this, and you can convince a weak-minded person to do almost anything.”

He was staring directly into my eyes, and I knew he was trying to communicate without using too many specific words.
Sorry, fellow. I don't read minds.

It didn't seem to bother him. He smiled and backed away from me a pace. The two thugs immediately stepped forward to grab my arms. Creol leapt back onto the platform. “Friends!” he shouted in a voice that seemed to fill every nook of the immense hall. “Do you trust me?”

The resounding
“YES!”
almost made me jump.

“Do you believe in me?”

“Yes!”

“You know what I can do?”

“Yes!”

“I promised to bring to Middle Reach the prosperity it was destined to have, didn't I?”

“Yes!”

“I promised to do this by destroying High Scape, didn't I?”