Heroes Adrift (32 page)

I had to admit, there were worse places to wake up than in one of the huge, soft beds reserved for the honored guests of Her Imperial Majesty, with clean, sweet-smelling sheets. The room was over decorated, the walls filled with portraits, the drapes on the windows overwhelming the whole wall, but in compensation there was a low fire chasing away the last of the chill of the morning, and the glorious golden scent of coffee tickling my nose. I stretched, feeling the slippery sheets slide against my skin, and my foot brushed against something solid.

I turned to my side. Taro was still in bed and still asleep, which was unusual. During our whole acquaintance he was always up and out before me. Then again, we'd never shared such comfortable accommodations. Maybe he'd sleep as late as I did if he found the beds more comfortable. Something to think about.

I left the bed and poured myself a cup of coffee, marveling that someone had been able to slip into the room, light the fire and set up a tray of coffee and sweet pastry without waking either of us. I curled up in a wingback chair, sideways with my feet tucked under me, and looked at Taro.

He looked boneless, lying on his back, one hand dangling over the side of the bed. The poor man had been through hell, and he'd borne it better than I would have. I really didn't think I could have been so graceful if so many people had worked so hard to try to convince me I was useless.

Everything was going to change now that our task was completed. Once we were sent from the palace and relieved of our responsibility to Aryne, Taro would be free to be himself. And I would resume my proper role as Taro's Shield and friend. And nothing else. That was the natural way of things.

Yes, it would hurt, but I would just have to bear it.

I was on my second cup of coffee by the time Taro stirred and stretched. His nose wrinkled, and that was so cute. “Coffee,” he muttered thickly. “Don't suppose there's any tea around.”

And now that he had mentioned it, I was surprised that the Empress forgot her favorite's preferred beverage. Granted, I would hope that our ruler would have more important things to think about than what her pet Source liked to drink in the morning, but it still seemed strange to me.

Aryne walked through the adjoining door from her suite. “What's this about then?” she demanded, holding up a folded piece of paper.

“For Zaire's sake, knock, Aryne,” I said with exasperation.

“Who's Zaire?” was her response as she shoved the paper into my free hand.

I sighed and shook the paper open, slowly interpreting the ridiculously ornate script. “She's been invited to a brunch tomorrow,” I told Taro. “Hosted by a Lady Elspeth Shoji.”

“Who the hell is that?” Aryne demanded.

“Daughter of the minister of justice,” Taro answered, rubbing his face.

“What she want with me?”

“Maybe the Empress asked her to make you feel comfortable here,” Taro suggested.

“Why would your Empress care about something like that?”

“I don't know.”

Taro was sounding grumpy. Perhaps because he wasn't comfortable getting out of bed while Aryne was in the room. I found that hilarious.

“How old is this Lady Shoji?” I asked.

“Ah, around nineteen, I think.”

So a safe age, or as safe as the Empress was willing to make it. I hoped the other guests at this brunch would be of a similar age, though that would make it more uncomfortable for Aryne.

The Empress had clearly made it known to everyone that Aryne was there, and that she was important.

“But she doesn't live on the palace grounds,” Taro said.

“This says the brunch is being held in the Blue Room.” Which I assumed was in the palace. I don't think I'd ever been to it.

“No one's expecting me to go, are they?” Aryne grabbed one of the pastries and tore into it, crumbs flying everywhere.

“You have to go,” said Taro.

“Do not!”

“When the Empress orders you to do something, you do it.”

“This isn't the Empress, this is Lady whatever.”

“Who's never met you. This is the work of the Empress.”

Or the girl's father, trying to curry favor.

“I'm not going.”

“Aryne, there's a lesson you have to learn, and you might as well learn it right now. When the Empress wants you to do something, you do it, or she'll make your life hell.”

“Sounds like Border,” Aryne muttered.

“Then he was good practice,” I said.

Most of the rest of the day was spent trying to make sure Aryne didn't try to escape from—or kill—the various people who arrived to begin making her presentable for the brunch. They were modifying a gown for her, a flowing fall of yellow the color of which I didn't care for, but which emphasized the darkness of her hair, eyes and skin. Her hair was cut, possibly for the first time in her life, so it fell evenly to just below her shoulders. Her nails were cut and her hands and feet soaked in an oiled water that softened her skin.

She looked stunning, but she didn't look like herself. I found it disturbing. Of course, her appearance was only the first and most superficial of a whole slew of changes that were going to be made to her. I imagined that if I were to meet her in five years or so, I would find her a completely different person. Which was too bad. I liked her as she was.

The next day, Taro and I took advantage of Aryne's attendance at the brunch to enjoy the huge decadent bed. Sharing a room with the child for the past few months had meant keeping our hands to ourselves, and I had to admit there were times when I resented it. That morning, to touch Taro wherever I wanted without having to worry about anyone overhearing or walking in on us was a real luxury.

Taro had extremely sensitive feet. I hadn't known that before.

We enjoyed hot scented water in the huge bathtub, and then a sumptuous meal brought on trays right to the room. It was lovely. Nowhere to be, no expectations, a few hours of pure relaxation. I could handle a little more of that with no regrets.

The door slammed in the suite next to ours. It appeared that Aryne was back. I heard a lot of thuds and bangs that sounded like more than Aryne's usual careless noise. With a frown, Taro crossed the room and knocked on the door to her suite. “Aryne?” he called. “Can we come in?”

She didn't say anything in response, but the banging about continued.

He opened the door anyway. “Why didn't you answer?” I heard him say.

“Don't need to” was the sullen reply. “You come in anyway.”

“I wouldn't if you said not to.”

A snort. “Oh, kai.”

I followed Taro into her suite. Her hair had been curled and pinned up, and right then she seemed to be doing her best to pull it all right out of her head. “I'm not going to another one of those things,” she said.

“What happened?” Taro asked.

“They're all shiny, flat people,” she sniffed.

Taro was baffled, which I found ironic. “What does that mean?” he asked.

“That they're shiny,” she repeated in a mocking tone. “And that they're flat.” She yanked another tie out of her hair and took a few more strands with it.

“Give over, let me do it. Taro, fetch my brush.”

He glared at the order but did what he was told.

“Sit down, Aryne. I'll get this stuff out of your hair.” Aryne sat on a settee, and I angled her a bit so I could sit behind her and work on the pins in her hair. “What happened?”

“Doesn't matter.”

“Of course it does, if it upsets you.”

“It's passing, and talking sets no course.”

“Of course it does,” I repeated, hoping I was interpreting the context correctly.

“Why?” she sneered. “You gonna yell at 'em? Tell 'em to treat the poor little slave girl nice?”

“You're not a slave,” I snapped.

Taro came in and tossed me my brush before taking a seat in the settee opposite ours, where he could see Aryne. “What happened?”

I took out the last of the pins and carefully pulled my brush through Aryne's thick black hair. I had to be careful, using short strokes at first to work out whatever firming agent they'd put in.

Aryne shrugged. “Nothing, really. Just not my kind of people.”

“You weren't the first to go, were you?” Taro asked. Nothing but rigid silence came from Aryne, and Taro sighed. “Aryne.”

“Think they'll hang me?” Aryne asked sarcastically.

“That's not the point.”

“So what's the point? Why do I have to do all this? Where's this woman I'm supposed to be related to?”

“We haven't been given that information,” said Taro.

Aryne twisted around to look at me. “Leavy?”

“Stay still,” I said, turning her back around. “We can't tell you what we don't know.” Lie lie lie lie lie. “You have to learn how to get on with people.”

“I get along fine.”

“Not according to Erstwhile standards.”

“Erstwhile standards can go hang.”

“Today was difficult,” said Taro.

“Huh,” was Aryne's response.

“Wouldn't you like such things to become less difficult? Because I promise you, you can't avoid them. There'll be people like that at the Source Academy, too.”

“Thought I wasn't going to the Source Academy,” said Aryne.

“I imagine you will, for a period of time. At least until you find your Shield.”

“So what's all this in aid of, then?”

“Because you'll be coming back once you find your Shield.”

“Maybe I won't. Maybe I'll just go wherever I want.”

“Sources don't go wherever they want,” I told her. I was finally able to use longer strokes with the brush.

“Why not?”

“Sources and Shields belong to the Triple S. We go where they tell us.”

Aryne swore. “You do what the Triple S tells you. You do what the Empress tells you. Got no minds of your own, is that it?”

I had no answer for that.

“Mistake to come here,” she said. “Shoulda stayed on Flatwell.”

I wasn't going to say anything to that, either. I didn't agree with her, but I could see why she felt that way. I'd been pretty miserable on Flatwell, and I'd known it was only temporary. It would have been so much harder to go as a child, all by myself.

I wouldn't trade places with Aryne for the world.

We ended up staying in Erstwhile longer by far than I'd expected. Close to a month. That was no hardship, really. After nearly a year of continual travel, the Empress's principal palace was a wonderful place to recuperate. I had a long, luxurious bath every single day. Sometimes twice. I ate what was surely the most luscious food ever concocted. And I slept. I slept a lot.

I had been a guest of Her Imperial Majesty before, and I found the palace an interesting place. The council met in the east wing, so all sorts of titleholders and their aids were always coming and going. So were people coming to plead some business before the council. Members of the Imperial Guard wandered around, apparently doing nothing. There were a slew of fascinating arguments to overhear, and no one seemed to care they had an audience.

People remembered Taro from his earlier stay in Erstwhile. They greeted him in the palace corridors and invited him to their social occasions. Taro and I went to one or two, briefly, to visit those people who were less obnoxious than the rest, or for something to do. And I watched Taro, waiting for the change to come.

I figured he had gotten out of the habit of flirting so much while we were on Flatwell, because such behavior would not be reciprocated there. He had become oddly formal with people, almost cool, and during our travels to Erstwhile, he had held on to that formality. I could see it surprised those who had met him before. As time went by, however, I saw some of the old mannerisms coming back, and it almost relieved me. I didn't like what Flatwell had done to him, and I was happy it had not resulted in a permanent change.

He didn't once spend the night somewhere else. In fact, he rarely left my side at all. It was confusing, and at times a little trying. Sometimes I craved solitude.

Aryne was invited to private interviews with the Empress, something I found nerve-racking and Aryne found annoying. She said the Empress asked her all sorts of prying questions about Flatwell, questions she didn't think she should have to answer. She did, though. At least, she claimed she did, and I had to trust her on that, because neither Taro nor I were allowed to attend these interviews.

More pieces of paper with times and dates with Aryne's name on them were delivered to her suite. Her poor showing at Lady Shoji's brunch didn't stop the offspring of other courtiers from including her on their guest lists. She really hated going to those events, and I didn't blame her. She was out of place in so many different ways, age and appearance and education and background. And it seemed to me that as time went by, her enunciation, eating habits, and general manners deteriorated. She may not have been able to avoid the gatherings, but she apparently had no problem making sure no one else enjoyed themselves any better than she did.

While I didn't blame her for the way she was reacting, her behavior wasn't going to help her in the long run. She was smart. Her manners made her look like a thug. That wasn't good. But I didn't tell her that. Every time I came near to suggesting she might do something a little differently, she reminded me that I wasn't her mother.

And really, who was I to tell anyone else how to behave? Sometimes I did the stupidest things.

After a few weeks of aimless relaxation, I was ready to go home. I wanted to be a proper Shield again. I kind of missed having a routine, a place where I was expected to be, and a job to do. The job I was trained to do.

And finally, after almost a month, Taro and I were summoned again. We were instructed, specifically, not to go bring Aryne with us. And I knew this was it. The Empress was going to thank us for finding her new heir and send us home.

I was right.

I was also wrong.

“Aryne will not be of use to us,” the Empress announced.

I would not gape at her. I would not. But…damn. I gaped at Taro instead.

He was clenching his teeth. “I'm afraid I do not understand, Your Majesty.”

“Aryne is not suitable as a future ruler.”

I cringed at her plain speaking. There were no servants in the room—the Empress's attempt to keep things private—but anyone could be listening at doors or hidden passages or all the other little hiding spaces I assumed a palace had. It seemed to me that the Empress was no longer concerned about keeping Aryne's family link a secret. Perhaps because she wasn't going to use her.

“I see,” said Taro.

Did he? Because I damn well didn't.

“She is a decent enough girl,” the Empress said, but with reluctance. She didn't really believe it. “But she lacks the qualities of a ruler.”

What? Initiative? Strength? Common sense that I was finding far too uncommon?

“She knows nothing of our ways.”

Of course not. She wasn't from here.

“She's entirely uneducated.”

So? Tutor her.

“And I doubt her ability to interact with those who would be her peers.”

Was this woman serious? She plucked this girl out of her life from another part of the world, and then expected her to be exactly like any other child of the aristocracy? Hadn't that been the point of finding her? Didn't she want her because she was different from her own son, raised in Erstwhile as the heir of the Empress?

And she'd better not be telling us she'd put us through months of hell for no reason. We did not humiliate ourselves and go without chocolate and coffee, and strut around in glitter and get told that we had flat voices and plain faces, all for nothing. Because if we did, I thought I'd have excellent reason to give up all pretensions of being a calm, collected Shield and smack someone up the back of her royal head.

“I do, of course, expect you both never to mention what Aryne is to anyone,” Her Majesty said, giving us what was supposed to be a steely look.

I was just too furious to take it seriously. I couldn't believe it. I just couldn't. How dare she rip us from our lives and throw us somewhere dangerous, all on a whim? I didn't care who the hell she thought she was. That was irresponsible and cruel and just wrong. “Your Majesty,” I said, and then I halted. There was so much I wanted to say, and nothing that I should.

“Yes, Shield Mallorough?” the Empress responded coolly.

I opened my mouth, and all that came out was, “Your Majesty.”

I could practically feel Taro screaming at me to shut up inside his head.

The hell with it. I was going to ask. I was sick of always taking gentle steps. “Why did you send us to look for her if you weren't going to welcome her into your family?”

Was it just me, or were my words really echoing in the room?

“Did you honestly believe everyone you found on Flatwell would be housed here and made a part of Our family?”

Kai. And that was not a stupid assumption to have made. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

She seemed surprised. “Really?”

Oh my gods, yes. Yes. All right? “Yes, Your Majesty.”

She tapped her lower lip with the tip of her finger. “Do you not understand why it might be necessary for me to know if any of the collateral line survived, and what kind of people they might be?”

Yes, I'd already thought that through. Family feeling, which was unlikely. She didn't like her son as the next ruler, which was entirely likely.

Oh, and she was reputed to be very ill. Maybe she was worried about some kind of battle over the throne when she died. I hadn't considered that before. It seemed to me to be the most unlikely of the reasons. The mark wasn't the sign of the heir, but the sign of the royal family in general. The heir would need something more. And no one was going to support some stranger from the Southern Islands against the Crown Prince. It would be suicide. “Yes.”

“Do you not understand how a collateral line, developing outside this influence of Our court, picking up who knows what kinds of ideas and values at the forsaken ends of the world, would threaten the very stability of Our rule?”

Oh, so it was the most unlikely of reasons. Sort of. We had been sent to hunt, not to search. I had to swallow before I could speak. “So you—so Your Majesty had no intention of considering anyone we found as a potential heir?”

“That was always a possibility. But you will agree that royalty are not like Our subjects. There is bred into Us resistance to influence that is essential in any true ruler, which the child clearly lacks.”

She was accusing Aryne of lacking resistance to influence? Was she serious? The girl was doing handsprings to show how different she was from everyone else in the palace.

Or maybe that was the point. Perhaps she saw through Aryne's behavior, saw it as a reaction to influence that, as a descendant of royalty, Aryne should be above.

“Now, you performed your task admirably, Shield Mallorough. The child clearly has no idea who she really is. Which means she presents no threat to Us.”

What would have happened to her if the Empress decided she was a threat? What had this woman turned us into?

“It is fortunate that she turned out to be a Source. That arranges everything nicely.”

Aye, it did. Because with all its flaws, the Triple S would treat her better than the royal court.

I didn't know what to do with myself. I wanted to scream or hit someone or, ooh, smash that spectacularly ugly vase by the window. I had never felt so misused in all my life.

I took a deep breath and let it out, slowly.

“We believe it is now time for you to return to your charge,” said the Empress.

She knew I was furious. She didn't care. Why would she? I was no one for her to worry about.

What were we going to tell Aryne? She was supposed to be a member of a family that was looking for her? Were we supposed to tell her she wasn't good enough?

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Taro said with a bow.

I didn't trust myself to speak. I really didn't. Instead, I just curtsied, and hoped she took that for assent.

“We thank you for the assistance you have provided Us,” the Empress said formally. “You have the gratitude of the Crown.”

Great. That and an empty sack was worth an empty sack.

And we were done. No longer of any use to Her Majesty, we were no longer of any interest to her, and she had other things to do. We backed out of the room before I had a chance to kill her.

I felt Taro's hand low on my back, and when the door closed before us he whispered into my ear, “Not until we reach our room.”

How chaotic had the world gotten, that my Source was telling me to calm down?

You could hear Aryne's shriek of joy throughout the palace, I was sure, when we told her we were leaving. She didn't ask any questions. She didn't seem to care that she wasn't going to find out about this family to which she was supposed to belong. She just started packing.