The Hero Strikes Back (15 page)

I'd rather be cold than hot. Any day, any time, any place. And damn it was hot.

I scraped something together for breakfast, but had little appetite. I knocked on Karish's door to see if he was ready to go to the Stall, but he didn't appear to be in. I headed out alone.

Wasn't fog supposed to be cool?

It wasn't so dense I couldn't see where I was going, but I wouldn't have wanted to try sending an arrow anywhere. And the fog gave everything a nice eerie glow, muffling every sound until I couldn't really trust my ears at all. The snow had melted, leaving the roads slick. That didn't keep the usual round of idiots from driving their carriages down the street. There would be some dead people, soon. I ran along as fast as I could, towards the ring road.

I didn't like this, didn't like it at all. There was a strange feel to the air. Like something bad was going to happen. Which was just ridiculous. People couldn't feel that sort of thing ahead of time. I was just letting the thick air and ghostly sounds get to me, imagining things. I was ashamed of myself, letting my emotions slide all over the place like that.

Someone grabbed my arm. It startled me enough to make me almost scream. And that infuriated me. I turned on my assaulter and snarled, “What?”

It was a young woman. Taller than me, of course. Very slim, dressed in a modest, almost drab gown, her light brown hair falling from a precise middle part. I didn't remember ever seeing her before.

“You are Shield Mallorough, aren't you?” she asked.

She was a stranger to me. But she had a sun tattooed in black over her left temple. That meant she was a Reanist. She believed gods existed, that they were responsible for natural disasters, and that all that was needed to appease the gods and stop the disasters was to sacrifice an aristocrat every once in a while. That was all I needed to know. I yanked my arm free and turned to continue on to the Stall.

I heard her then, scampering after me. “No, please, Shield Mallorough. You must listen to me.”

I must do nothing of the sort.

“You must bring Lord Shintaro to us.”

I hadn't expected her to come right out and make that particular demand of me. From what I understood they were usually more circumspect. But perhaps she thought she didn't need to waste subtlety on me. “He is not Lord Shintaro anymore.” Damn it, damn it. What was I doing? Don't talk. Just keep right on walking. But my mouth opened again, all of its own accord. “He is now plain Shintaro Karish. Your ordinary everyday peasant. Sorry you wasted your time, but maybe if you stopped chanting to your gods long enough to see the light of day you might learn some facts that are, you know, current.”

The sarcasm flew right over her head. Or she ignored it. Too smoked up to care. “It isn't the name. The title is irrelevant. It's the blood. His blood is pure.”

I rolled my eyes. “Lucky him.”

She was striding next to me and invading my personal space. A woman could get hurt doing that. “You must bring him to us.”

I
must
do nothing. “You really think I'm going to try to get Karish to join one of your cults?” Could she really think all she had to do was tell me to bring Karish to her and I would?

“It's your duty.”

Well, that was an angle I'd never heard before. “It's my duty to deliver Karish to you so you can murder him.” Why was I talking to her?

She looked shocked. “Not
murder,
” she protested. “We want to give him to the gods.”

“By killing him. Intentionally. And not for the purposes of self-defence or to put him out of unceasing pain. Sounds an awful lot like murder to me.” Logic. You're trying to argue logic with the inherently illogical, Lee. Stop it. Right now.

“It will please the gods, and it will bring tranquility to our turbulent world.”

Ech. What had she been reading? “As justifications for murder go, that is less than convincing.”

“It is not murder,” the Reanist insisted. “Aristocrats have an ancient duty to protect those who serve them. That duty reaches throughout their lives and extends into death, if necessary.”

“I'm sure they'd be surprised to hear that.” Maybe I would tell the Dowager Duchess.

“Whether they are aware of this duty, whether they wish to carry it out, is irrelevant. It is a duty placed on them by the gods, and they are obliged to serve. And as a Source, Lord Shintaro's duty is doubled. He is sworn to this duty both by birth and by calling. And it is your duty as a Shield to bring him to us.”

Bring him to them. Like all I had to do was command him to go to the Ancient Order of Lunatics and he'd willingly go. I had no idea I wielded such power. “How dumb do you think I am?” I just had to ask. “Have you forgotten that when you murder Karish in the name of your religion, I die, too? Or do you merely hope I have?”

“It is your duty, too, to do all you can to keep the world calm.”

“I already do.”

“Only temporarily. The gods would do it, and do it better than any mortal.” Oh, oy. Mortal. “That is their role. It is arrogant of you to attempt to assume it.”

“You people are insane,” I said bluntly. And stupid. Why was she even in High Scape? All of the Reanists were pretty much exiled to Shina Lake. Wasn't she afraid of being apprehended by the authorities? “You've killed aristocrats before and did it solve anything? No.”

Like all illogical people, she had an answer for everything. “The odd one here and there isn't enough. It must be a regular sacrifice, to keep the gods' favor.”

Ah. I see. “You're going to run out of aristocrats awfully quickly if you make murdering them a regular occurrence.”

“The gods can't demand more if all those who are pure of blood have already gone to their service.”

I stared at her. I felt my eyes going wide. I couldn't help it. “You hope to eventually kill all the aristocrats?” I mean, sure, my collective family had sometimes fantasized about a world without the High Landed, but we weren't serious about it. Not serious to the point of wanting to kill all of them.

Although there was a certain final efficiency about it.

Stop that.

“It would finally appease the gods. That much blood will buy us years of stability.”

“You're insane.” I hated repeating myself that way, but I couldn't help myself. It was so very true. I mean, believing in gods. Our ancestors came to our world on ships that flew in the stars. Even the most uneducated idiot knew that. So what was this idea of gods somehow watching the planet? Where did they come from? And where were they supposed to be? Just floating around up there in the sky, invisible, spying on us?

Creepy.

“I'm late,” I told her. “And until those gods of yours decide to watch themselves and do something about keeping the world calm, you'll just have to rely on us mere mortals.” Lengthen my stride, try to outdistance her.

She let me go, that time, but she didn't quite give up. “Bring Lord Shintaro to us!”

“Oh, go to hell,” I muttered. Maybe I should have stayed at home long enough to brew some coffee. It wasn't a good idea to endure this kind of encounter without fortification. And it might have delayed me long enough so that I wouldn't have met the woman at all. Unless she had been looking for me, waiting for me. I hoped not. That would be too disturbing.

And then I tripped and fell on my face. Looked at the ground and found nothing to trip over. Lovely.

I was in a bad mood. And facing seven hours in a small roasting room. Just glorious.

Karish was at the Stall before me. Firth was there, waiting to be relieved, passing the time by tormenting Karish. “—clings to him,” she was commenting as I walked through the door.

She was gesturing at my Source, who was wearing a white cotton shirt unlaced as low as general decency allowed. And yes, in the humidity and with his own sweat, it was pretty much plastered to his body. His hair was kind of frizzing. And he'd kicked off his boots, his bare feet resting on the chair on the opposite side of the table.

It was kind of shocking, actually. I'd seen Karish in various states of undress. But he was always appropriately dressed for the circumstances. It was one of his inbred rules. To see him in the Stall looking like he'd just stumbled out of a bed he'd barely rolled into after a night of debauchery surprised and concerned me.

He was not in a good mood, either. He was slouched in his chair, resting his head on one hand, making no effort to respond to Firth's raillery with even forced politeness. As she finished speaking his expression watched from that of complete disinterest to one of disgust, and he glared at her. I had never seen him do that, not with her, and it wasn't a good sign for me and the rest of our watch. I stifled a groan. I was not in a fit state to be handling a temperamental Source and his death-defying leaps of emotion.

The glare watched to me as I closed the door behind me. “You're late,” he said, his voice flat.

“Aye, sorry.” If I had told that Reanist “sure, take him!” I probably would have gotten to the Stall on time. “Stone, Firth, good morning.”

“Morning, dear,” said Firth, holding her braid up off the back of her neck. Stone nodded her response, shoving the toys she and Firth had used to while away their hours on watch into a bag. “I won't say good morning, though. I can't say it has been for me and I dare say it won't be for you. Himself is in a rare mood.”

“All his moods are rare. He's a rare fellow.” He was smart, too. I followed his example, kicking my boots off into a corner.

“And he's here,” Karish muttered.

“Sorry, Karish. Good morning to you, too.”

He snorted. How masculine of him. I exchanged a look with the departing Pair, rolled my eyes, and pumped some water into the kettle.

“Don't you dare light a fire,” Karish warned me as I put the kettle on the stove.

“I didn't get any coffee this morning.” And I needed coffee. I needed the ritual of drinking something hot so I knew I was out of bed for good and braced to face the day.

“I mean it, Lee. You try lighting that stove and I may just have to kill you.”

My hand on the kettle, I looked at him over my shoulder. I supposed he had a point. He did look miserable. I wasn't all that thrilled with the idea of adding the heat of a fire to the close environment of the Stall myself, and he would be feeling the heat more than I. “You owe me, Taro.” Making me face a day without coffee. That was just wrong.

He grunted.

Two non-articulate responses in under a half hour. Bad bad sign. “Have you seen your mother recently?” Maybe that was where he'd been that morning.

He straightened in his chair so he could cross his arms and look stern. “I am not talking about it.”

I shrugged. “All right.” Karish shouldn't be allowed to speak to his mother without supervision. I really didn't know why he was spending so much time with her, anyway.

Since I couldn't have coffee I scooped up a cup of tepid water and found some stale tea biscuits. Delicious. I sat at the table and munched on them, thinking about the Reanist. I wasn't going to tell Karish about her, he was always understandably touchy whenever Reanists were mentioned, but the encounter had made me uneasy. “You're being careful, eh? Not wandering around alone at night?”

He wasn't an idiot. He had some idea what I was talking about. “I am not a lord,” he reminded me with impatience. “I never was.”

His answer made me think of what Erin had said the night before, that Karish might be experiencing a loss of companionship with his denial of the title. I didn't know how to ask him about it without sounding mother hennish. “We don't know that the title is what's important. I mean, all the people who have gone missing were pretty minor aristocrats. Maybe it's just the bloodlines they're interested in.” Like the Reanists.

“Huh. Then I'll be safe. You wouldn't believe the number of whores and horse thieves that litter my family tree.”

He was just being difficult. “I only want to make sure you're being careful.”

“Don't worry, Lee,” he sneered. “I won't get you killed.”

I grit my teeth. Spoiled bastard. That wasn't what I'd been thinking about at all. “Zaire, Taro. Please have sex soon. You're becoming impossible.”

His mouth dropped open. That improved my own mood just a little. I loved seeing Lord Shintaro Karish stunned. He was so cute.

He closed his mouth with an audible snap. Then his lips curled into the slightest smile. “Any volunteers?”

Aye, I should have known that was coming. I popped a piece of biscuit into my mouth.

He let his head fall back. “It's so damn hot,” he muttered. “Maybe this'll shut the regulars up.”

“You haven't been getting any brick at the head events, have you?”

He raised his head to look at me. “No.” His eyes narrowed. “Have you?”

“No.” I was never bothered by regulars when I was alone. I wasn't really bothered when I was with Karish, either. It was all focused on the Sources, it seemed.

“Would you tell me if you had?”

“Of course.” No, probably not. He would just get all weirdly protective about it and I didn't need anyone hovering over me.

“Hm,” he said, apparently unsure whether to believe me or not. But he let it slide. “I've just been getting comments. Shouts. Accusations.”

Why was I getting irritated by this? It wasn't news anymore. “And what do you say?”

“What else?” He shrugged. “We're working on it.”