Resenting the Hero (17 page)

“Of what?”

She looked at me as though she thought that was a stupid question. “Shielding.”

Sorry, I'm still a moron.
“Why?”

She paled as though my ignorance had somehow made her fear worse. “Didn't you feel it when it happened? Didn't it hurt?”

Oh, that. The Rushes.
A shudder tried to fight its way from my core to my skin, but I wouldn't let it. “Aye, it hurt.” But perhaps not so much as it had evidently hurt her.

“Aren't you afraid to Shield again?”

“I have Shielded again.” I'd had no choice. The second Rush had come so hard on the heels of the first, there'd been no one else to channel or Shield. Then we'd had to continue working, while waiting for the other Pairs to arrive. The third Rush had been easier to manage. So I supposed, painful as they were, I was getting used to them.

And I hadn't almost died. Sure, it had hurt, but after a few days of rest I had been back to normal. Ogawa had lost her senses for a good while, and once she roused she was told she'd been on the shores of death. Then she'd had to endure weeks of recuperation. Perhaps if I had suffered what she had, I'd be scared, too.

Still, there was nothing to be done about it, until we discovered why the Rushes were happening and figured out a way to stop them. “Is Tenneson nervous about channeling again?”

Ogawa looked down at her hands clasped in her lap and shrugged. “He doesn't remember anything.”

“Have you told Tenneson how you feel?” I asked.

“Not really,” she said. “I tried to hint around it. I asked him when he thought he would be ready to channel again. He said any time, no hesitation. I couldn't tell him I wasn't sure if I was up for it.”

It was worse than I thought. “You're not sure you're up for it?” That was different from simply being afraid. It was much, much worse.

Tears filmed her eyes. That was alarming. She couldn't look at me. She shrugged.

“Ogawa!”

“All the other Shields are dead, Mallorough!” she snapped angrily.

“You're not, and neither am I,” I reminded her. “And everyone survived the last one.”

“Survived the last one! Listen to yourself. We're not supposed to be worrying about surviving channeling!”

I wasn't supposed to be worrying about my Source being turned into a duke and rendering me useless. “What are you saying? You don't want to Shield anymore? You can't do that.”

“I can. What can anyone do if I just refuse to Shield?”

“They can die.”

Ogawa bit her lip. “I really don't think I can Shield again, Mallorough. I mean it.”

“You have to do it again,” I told her, wishing I knew how to use rhetoric, or was better at comforting people. Or something. “You're a Shield.” Made it all pretty obvious to me.

“It's not that simple, Mallorough,” she claimed with a sad smile.

“Aye, it is. You've promised to Shield your Source for as long as you're able.”

“That's just it. I don't think I'm able anymore.”

“You're only scared,” I said, feeling like an idiot as I said it. As reassurances went, it was weak. “You'll be fine. Once you're needed again, you'll fall into habit. You'll naturally Shield Tenneson as you always have in the past.”

Ogawa settled back in her seat and said nothing. I felt foolish. And then I felt angry for feeling foolish. I wasn't the one who was letting fear frighten me from doing my duty.

My, how pompous.

I took a deep breath and pushed it out slowly. Really, what was wrong with me? Swinging from annoyance and apprehension to anger and back again. I was supposed to be calm. That was my role. And I'd been good at remaining calm regardless of the levels of stress I faced, while I was at the academy. Why did I have so much difficulty with it now?

Ogawa recognized in another Shield the tricks for remaining serene. “Are you all right?”

“Of course,” I said. “And you are, too. Or you will be; you'll see. It's only that you've been off the roster so long, and you had such a difficult time with the first Rush without getting back into things and realizing they're not so bad. The first one was the worst for me, too, but the later ones are better. Once you're working, you'll find the same thing, and you'll feel better.”

She shrugged. “Perhaps,” she said, not sounding at all convinced.

No one had ever taught me how to reassure people. And it was clear I lacked any natural talent for it.

This feeling of unsettlement was undermining my training, that was it. Because I had no idea when Karish would come up to me and tell me he'd decided he was heading out, and it was a great pleasure knowing me and thank Zaire he'd never have to deal with me again.

It would be hard to be rendered useless like that, but at least I'd know it was done, and then I could start figuring out what to do next. But until Karish made his move, I was left groundless. And I was realizing that was a state I really, really hated.

Chapter Thirteen

Very early one morning, in response to a message I received on my free day, I went back to the hospital. On my previous visits, I had been worried and upset, but this time I was ashamed to notice that my heart was pounding, up somewhere near my throat, and I seemed to be sweating.

The tersely worded message said Karish had been attacked on the street by some lone assailant. He was expected to live, but in case he didn't, I should be at the hospital, too.

That's all the note said. The bastards.

I could guess at their thinking. Mustn't have me collapsing dead, all of a sudden, out in public. It might disturb the regulars. Besides, the morgue was under the hospital. It was far easier for me to walk in than for them to send someone out to carry me in.

And then, when I got there, they wouldn't even let me see him. A nurse told me he had been stabbed several times by the assailant, who apparently had expected the job to be much easier than it had been, for he had run away before it was finished. First priority on everyone's list, after making sure Karish didn't die, was finding out who had attacked him and why. And to that purpose, now that Karish was awake, there were two Runners in his room interviewing him.

So all I could do was sit outside his room and wait.

I wasn't at all sure how this worked, this procedure of dying when your partner did. Would I feel anything in advance, get any kind of warning? Or did everything just stop between one breath and the next?

I shivered and told myself not to think about it.

Sitting in that hospital, hearing moans from other rooms, and someone crying because someone had died, not thinking about it was impossible.

I jumped to my feet when the door to Karish's room opened. Two Runners and a healer stepped out.

“He's asleep,” the healer told me, giving me a hard look and closing the door.

“Is he all right?” I asked.

“He should be.”

And I had to be satisfied with that vague response, because the healer took off. I sat down. I thought I was relieved, but I wasn't sure.

“Shield Mallorough?”

I looked up at the Runners.

I'd never spoken to Runners before, though I'd seen them about the city, running in response to headache-inducing whistles that told them the nature and location of the most recent crime. They were menacing-looking people, dressed all in black with black cloaks falling from their shoulders and tools jangling from their belts.

This pair was comprised of a tall, lean woman with beautiful warm brown skin and incongruously red hair, and a short, skinny man who was eyeing me with overt hostility.

I hadn't even spoken yet. How could I have possibly annoyed him?

“I'm Runner Demaris,” the woman said, “this is Runner Wilson. We're sorry about your partner.”

Her words sounded perfunctory to me. “Thank you.”

“He looks like he might be real pretty when he isn't so pale and drugged up.”

My eyebrows flew up to my hairline. Maybe not so perfunctory after all.

Wilson looked at his partner with disgust. “We're trying to find out who might have attacked him,” he said.

“I have no idea,” I admitted.

“Did he have any enemies?”

“No.”

“Universally adored, was he?” Wilson drawled.

Yes. As far as I knew.

“What about this new title of his?” Demaris asked. “We heard he's going to be a duke.”

“Aye.”

“Is there anyone in his family who might be really unhappy about that?”

“I have no idea,” I repeated. I hadn't considered that possibility. But why would anyone object to Karish being the next duke? He was his brother's natural heir. It couldn't have been a surprise to anyone.

“What are your impressions of his family?”

He didn't seem to like them, but that didn't seem much to go on. “I've never met any of them.”

Wilson's eyes narrowed. “How long have you been his Shield?” he demanded.

“A few months.”

“Pah!” He glared up at Demaris. “She's useless.”

Demaris rolled her eyes. “Then she's in good company. Why don't you run off and find a thief to arrest with unnecessary brutality and leave the civilized stuff to me?”

“My pleasure,” he muttered before stalking off.

I raised an eyebrow at Demaris.

“Little man issues,” she explained.

“Ah.”

“But seriously, have you got any idea who might be behind this?”

“I don't know anyone who doesn't like Karish.” Except Aiden. But even he didn't hate Karish that much. And he was nearly a cripple, so he wouldn't be capable of it anyway.

Demaris smirked. “He is something, isn't he?”

“You're kidding. He's half-dead and he's flirting?”

“He's got a killer smile.”

What was it like, I wondered, to have people really like you, crave you, want to be around you, moments after meeting you? People of all ages, all types. It had to be wonderful. It had to make a person feel bright and light and high.

“Let me know, though, if anything comes to mind. Risa Demaris, at the Lower Western Runner Headquarters. And take care.”

“Aye. Thank you.”

And then I was alone again.

A healer went into Karish's room. After only a few moments he came back out, disappeared, then returned with two more healers. That couldn't be good, but no one would tell me what was going on.

People began arriving, sitting down to wait for word of Karish. I vaguely recognized a few of them, but not to name, and the rest were complete strangers. The sheer number astounded me. How had he even been able to meet so many people in the time we'd been in High Scape?

I was surprised to see Source Chris LaMonte in attendance. He was one of the new Sources who had been sent after the Rushes, and grateful as I was to have him in High Scape, he was not one of my favorite people. He was a condescending sort, and he was too proud of being a Source. He wasn't the most social of people, either. I'd heard he didn't even talk to his Shield unless it was absolutely necessary, and what he did on his own time was a mystery because he refused to tell anyone about it.

But apparently Karish had charmed him, as he charmed everyone else.

“Good afternoon, sir.” He was an older man, so it was wise to address him with respect, even though he wasn't my superior in any hierarchical sense.

His response was a cool nod. The condescending prat.

Hard heels hitting the floor made all of us turn our heads to look. A woman on a mission came striding up the hall. Instinct told me she belonged to Karish. She wasn't a stunner, which didn't surprise me so much as the fact that she didn't even look interesting or unique, not in her features, not in how she moved. She was small and slight and terribly efficient looking, her brown hair cropped short, her clothing of simple lines and good quality. Pretty drab, though. But I really couldn't claim to know Karish's tastes.

I bet she worked in the government.

“You here for Karish?” I drawled in the most peasant accent I could find. A compulsive reaction to her appearance.

She looked at me with annoyance. “I am,” she said.
And what possible business could it be of yours?
her expression asked.

“Take a seat.” I gestured at the free chairs. “They're not letting us in right now.”

“They'll let me in,” she announced coolly, sweeping into the room.

LaMonte and I exchanged a glance.

The bureaucrat was swept back out again, protesting loudly. Don't you know who I am? The door was firmly closed behind her. I kind of wanted to smile, but I didn't.

“Well, really,” she huffed, pulling on her sleeves to smooth out nonexistent wrinkles. She sat down a few chairs away from us, crossing her legs primly. She didn't bother to introduce herself.

I studied her. I wondered if she really was one of Karish's lovers or if she only wished she were.

And then, finally, staff began leaving Karish's room instead of always entering it. The healers looked tired but not particularly depressed. But then they were healers, so who knew?

They did look annoyed, though, at seeing so many people lingering in the hall. “He'll live,” one barked. “Go home.”

There were, naturally, objections to that. They were ignored with expert ease, the staff elbowing their way through.

The bureaucrat stood, eyeing the door.

LaMonte looked at her. “Don't be ridiculous,” he said crisply.