Resenting the Hero (15 page)

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Authors: Moira J. Moore

BOOK: Resenting the Hero
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I would have sworn his voice squeaked up at least two octaves when he demanded, “What?”
“She's lacking forces. Give her some.” It seemed easy enough to me.
Karish looked like he was wondering where the lunatic ward was and how quickly he could get me there. “That's never been done before.”
That struck me as entirely irrelevant. “So?”
“I might kill her,” he objected. “I'll probably kill her.”
“She's already dying.”
His voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. “You're not the one who'll have to live with it if this doesn't work and it kills her. And Val.”
“Aye, and I'm also not the one who'll have to live with it if I sit back and do nothing and let her die,” I said tartly.
He flinched. “You are such a bitch,” he muttered.
I couldn't believe he required even a second thought about it, never mind the third and fourth and fifth he seemed to be indulging in. How could he have the potential to heal Ogawa and hesitate to use it? Yes, it was a risk, and I would be devastated if it went wrong, but Ogawa and Tenneson were dying. How could Karish even consider not making the attempt? “Tell me what I have to do to convince you, and I'll do it.”
He laughed bitterly.
Anger flared. “What the hell is so funny?” I demanded.
“Nothing,” he said. “Absolutely nothing.” The laughter disappeared as abruptly as it had arrived. His inner Shields dropped.
I erected Shields around him.
For a long time, nothing happened. He was open to the forces, I could feel that, but he didn't seem to be doing anything. Perhaps he was just feeling things out. I didn't bother him with stupid questions, but it was kind of boring, sitting there doing nothing, ready for action.
It was strange when it finally started, different from anything I'd felt before. I could feel him sort of reaching out, gently touching the forces that moved around him. I could practically feel it on my skin, a not unpleasant sensation. I suppressed a shiver.
And then he began to pull the forces in. I did shiver then, it felt so odd. I could feel the forces sliding from around us, into him. He was pulling in something even from me. It was just a slight thing at first, like he was pulling out a string from deep within me, but it quickly grew stronger and faster, until it felt like the very air was rushing right out of my lungs. I couldn't tell whether it felt good or not. Maybe good.
I Shielded him. There was nothing else I could do. I couldn't help him directly. I had to let him do whatever he was going to do and hope he didn't screw up. I hated that.
I spared some attention for Ogawa. There was no reaction from her. I had no way of knowing whether Karish's efforts were having any effect on her.
There was nothing to do but wait.
So I waited.
Did Ogawa's eyelids flicker?
I looked at her. Her face was slack and as pale as I imagined marble would be, just as it had been when we first came in. But I thought I'd felt something from her.
My imagination.
Ogawa took a deep breath.
Ogawa's eyes opened.
Ogawa blinked, her eyes glancing about.
Karish's internal defenses snapped back into place, and the forces stopped.
I dropped my Shields. I looked at Ogawa. She didn't look quite aware, but there was something in her eyes that told me part of her brain was functioning. The relief that swamped me was so powerful that I was completely unbalanced. That was why I crowed so loudly, threw my arms around my Source, and gave him an exuberant kiss on the cheek. “You did it! You're magnificent!”
“Hush!” he said sharply.
“What's going on here?” an authoritative voice demanded from somewhere in the insignificant background. Healer Singer glowered down at us, her eyes narrowing. I felt like kissing her, too.
“Miho's come around, ma'am,” Karish said respectfully.
Singer looked at him suspiciously but had more important matters to attend to. She leaned over the bed and gently touched Ogawa's brow. “Shield Ogawa?” she said softly. “You're in hospital. You've been injured, but it looks like you're going to be fine. Can you understand me?”
Ogawa didn't respond at all. She was looking at Karish. I wondered if she was actually seeing him.
“Please excuse us,” the healer said, her hands beginning to roam over Ogawa. “I have to examine her now.”
That was fine, because our work wasn't finished yet. “Yes, ma'am,” I said, rising to my feet and pulling Karish to his. “Thank you, ma'am.” I practically dragged Karish from the side of the bed.
“We'll be back tomorrow, Miho,” he promised.
“Aye, Ogawa, tomorrow,” I echoed. Moving faster, once more annoying the medical staff.
Once we were back out in the corridor Karish shook out of my grasp. “What the hell is your hurry?”
What did he think? “Tenneson's next.”
“If they both recover while we're visiting them, especially one after the other like this, someone's going to figure it out.”
“No one's going to figure it out. It's impossible, remember? All that's happened is that Ogawa has recovered, and she will soon drag Tenneson up with her. No one will suspect anything else.” And because it was all so simple and was working so well, I grinned up at him.
“You're glowing,” he muttered.
“You should be, too. You should be proud.” I wondered why he wasn't. He had just saved a life, after all, and was about to save another. But maybe he was tired. “Come on. It's time to bring Tenneson back to the land of the living.”
We did precisely that. I would have never been able to do that with Devereaux.
Chapter Eleven
“Karish never struck me as the modest type,” said Ogawa, licking cream off her bottom lip. “I didn't think he was a braggart, exactly, but I didn't think he would have any trouble talking about it when he does something amazing.” She reached for another cream roll.
I savored the sugary confection melting on my tongue and said nothing.
We were in Ogawa's suite, lounging on sofas and enjoying the unhealthy pastries I had picked up. After a week of constant eating and sleeping, Ogawa was on her way to full recovery, but her memory had suffered a blow. She remembered the strange forces that had driven her into her deep sleep, and she remembered Karish pulling her back to consciousness, but she couldn't recall anything in between.
She had been devastated by the loss of her colleagues, and then had swiftly hidden anything she felt about it. For the first time I heard in another Shield the flat tone Karish had mentioned.
“I tried to talk to him about it,” she continued as she settled back into the sofa. “I tried to thank him. He was perfectly charming as he brushed me off. He claimed he didn't know what I was talking about, that he just happened to be there when I woke up, but I know he had more to do with it than that.”
With my finger I scooped up some cream from my roll and stuck it into my mouth. Sometimes I really resented the way Karish had come to dominate so much of my life. It wasn't enough that I worked with him. People always had to talk about him. Sometimes it seemed that the only reason anyone spoke to me at all was to talk about Karish. It was starting to bore me. I searched for a subject to switch to.
“You don't like him much, do you?” said Ogawa.
I didn't want to get into it. “I like him fine.”
“Then why don't you ever go to the taverns with him?” Ogawa asked. “Every time I saw him out, he was always alone.”
I raised a brow at her.
“All right,” she conceded. “I mean, he wasn't with you.”
“Too much togetherness is a bad thing.”
“You're missing quite a show,” she told me.
“Really,” I said flatly, hoping I sounded like I couldn't care less.
“Oh, aye. Just picture it. An ordinary night at the tavern. Quiet, slow, a few desultory conversations leaking through the silence. The whores seeking customers, the thugs seeking fights, the brokenhearted seeking oblivion—”
“My, Ogawa. How poetic.”
She grinned. “Then
he
walks in”—I didn't have to ask who
he
was—“and the whole place seems to light up. Everyone looks at him, admires him, and he starts greeting everyone as though each were his particular friend. Suddenly everyone is talking louder and laughing harder and straining their brains for the wittiest lines. A dull evening in the local tavern turns into a party, and there's Karish in the middle of it, smiling that lethal smile that makes your stomach muscles clench.” She sighed.
I had to smile.
Wipe your chin, dear, you're drooling.
“I'm not a tavern sort of person,” I said, which was true enough in its way. “Were you happy when Tenneson Chose you?”
She grinned again, obviously understanding the sentiment behind the question. “I was thrilled to be Chosen,” she said. “I didn't much care by who. At that Match there were no Sources who were particularly glorious or particularly vile. I had no opinion of Tenneson when he Chose me. But I got to liking him quickly enough. It wasn't a snapping together of like minds or anything like that, but I found him comfortable. We've had our rough patches and we still have our fights, but for the most part we've worked well together. I know I'm fortunate to have someone like him as my Source.”
Aye, and I envied her. Tenneson did seem to be the perfect Source. Talented, steady, and easy to understand.
But not nearly so nice to look at.
I heard a quick knock on the front door, and the guest walked in without waiting for permission to enter. “Hello, hon,” a delightfully throaty alto called. “It's me.” A woman I had met only a couple of times before, at Ogawa's bedside, walked in.
She hesitated at the sight of me, as she always did, then strode over to Ogawa and gave her a smacking kiss on the mouth. “How are you feeling?” she asked, sitting down close beside Ogawa and picking up her free hand.
That was my cue to leave. I rose to my feet. “I must go.”
“No, you don't,” Ogawa objected, but not too strenuously.
“Aye, I do. I want to drop in on Aiden before I start my watch.”
“Ah.” Ogawa smiled knowingly. “I see.”
“I'm sure you do. So take care of yourself, Ogawa. We're missing you on the roster.”
A shadow flickered in her eyes before she smiled and thanked me. It made me pause and consider asking her if something were wrong. I let it go. If there were something wrong, and she wanted to talk about it, she would without my prying it out of her. I left.
Aiden answered his door himself. I was sure that under normal circumstances he would just shout at whoever knocked, telling them to let themselves in, but right then he was personally answering the door out of principle. He surprised me by greeting me with a quick kiss.
I pulled back and noticed a light in his eye and a feeling of excitement in his air. “You're in a good mood.”
He grinned widely. “Aye.”
I stepped inside and closed the door behind me. “Any particular reason?”
“I made forty-seven imperials.”
I frowned. “What?”
“I earned forty-seven imperials.” He sprawled onto a settee, and I settled into the nearest chair.
I assumed, from his expression of pride, that that was a goodly amount. “Doing what?” I asked suspiciously.
“Telling stories.”
“To who?”
“People in the park. That pathetic little one by the bakery.”
“You just started telling stories and people paid you?”
“Well, I wanted to stretch my legs, so I got as far as the park. And,” he admitted reluctantly, “coming straight back was more than I wanted to think about. So I sat on one of the benches, and this pert little miss came up to me and asked what I'd done to myself. And after I told her, she demanded I tell her a story. So I did.”
That alarmed me. “Not one of—”
He laughed. “Not the kind of stories I tell you, love. I just took a princess and a wizard and some dragons and”—he made a spinning gesture with his finger—“mixed them together.”
I raised my eyebrows. “You made up a story right then and there?” I said. “I'm impressed.”
“I'm sure I stole the plotline from somewhere. A story doesn't have to be original as long as it's delivered well.”
“And yours was well-delivered?” I asked in amusement.
This time his smile was smug. “If I do say so myself,” he answered. “She liked it, anyway.”
“She gave you forty-seven imperials for it?”
How old was this pert little miss, anyway?
“Of course not. She stayed for another story though. And other children drifted over to listen, dragging their caretakers over, until everyone in the park was sitting or standing around me.” He wrapped a lock of my hair around his finger and gently pulled the lazy curl out. “It was so strange, Dunleavy. They had been jumping on each other like little maniacs before, trying to kill each other it seemed, but then they were sitting there so quietly, listening to me. It was almost eerie, the way they listened so closely. I didn't know children could stay focused on one thing for so long.”
I didn't know anything about children, having spent very little time with them, but I wouldn't be surprised if they found Aiden's storytelling entrancing. He really was good, throwing himself into the characters with enthusiasm, and convincing. A couple of times I'd forgotten where I was, listening to him. That was a pretty powerful effect to have on a Shield.

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