“Aye, that’s what you lot all say. But none of us know what you people are up to, do we? All these secrets that we have no way of learning.”
I would have told most regulars that the Triple S really wasn’t all that mysterious, that we really didn’t have much going on that regulars didn’t know about. But it wasn’t the thing to say to this particular regular, I decided.
Besides, I was no longer sure it was true.
“That’s it, then?” Colin challenged. “That’s all you have to say?”
“Is there anything we can say to make you feel better?” Taro asked. “What can we say?”
Colin swore, spat at Taro’s feet, and stormed out.
Well, that had been terrifying.
The innkeeper looked at Taro. “I’ll send up some hot water.” Then he and his friend left, too.
Taro pulled off his shirt, which had been spattered with blood.
“How are you?” I asked him.
“Humiliated. And thrilled my nose isn’t broken.”
I sat on the bed. I was trembling in reaction to the violence.
The shirt Taro put on was dark blue. Less likely to show blood if someone else decided to try to make it flow. I wondered if that was his intention.
He sat beside me, and I took his hand.
It wasn’t the first time I had witnessed regulars perpetrating violence against members of the Triple S. During our assignment in High Scape, the city went through a horrific summer: blizzards and hail, drought alternating with floods. Many had lost their livelihoods; some had lost their lives. The regulars had looked to us to do something – anything – to stop the destruction. They hadn’t understood that controlling the weather had been beyond our abilities. Fury and fear had turned ordinary residents into a rioting mob that had pretty much torn the Triple S accommodations apart.
The reminder made me even more apprehensive about our travels. We didn’t just have to worry about thieves, but any regular who felt any kind of grudge against us. And what could we do if we were attacked? Taro and I had lived through some scrapes, but neither of us could really truly fight.
Trying to sleep that night was futile. People were moving about all over the building and I worried that each trail of footsteps would end up at our door. And when I did doze off, I dreamed of the fight again. The farmer was even bigger, and he didn’t stop at one punch. I kept waking to make sure Taro was still alive and conscious.
I was exhausted the next morning, with eyes that felt full of grit, and a piercing headache. I would have been better off if I hadn’t tried to sleep at all.
Taro tried to pay the innkeeper with some coin. He always had money on him, in case he got the opportunity to gamble. The innkeeper spurned the offer, stiffly announcing that he knew the law.
So we couldn’t win, no matter what we did.
Our horses and tack were unmolested. We had enough food that we didn’t need to requisition breakfast, and if we pushed hard and ate little, we could reach the next village without running out.
Though if the people of the next village resented us as much, I didn’t know what we would do.
Chapter Four
We arrived at Shidonee’s Gap without getting killed or beaten or robbed, but the journey had been a harsh education. Nowhere else had we been confronted as we had been in Fair Stop, but there was definitely a great deal of hostility in the air. Even in the bigger cities, where we went largely unnoticed, I had felt I had to keep a clear eye out for trouble, constantly, and I’d never experienced quite that sort of tension before.
I was relieved to see the first homes on the fringes of Shidonee’s Gap. Surely we would be safe there. For the first time in weeks, the large painful knot high between my shoulders started to ease.
No one spared us a glance as we trotted up the stone streets. The residents were busy, calling out the prices of their wares, hauling barrels, leading cows. They were so used to Sources and Shields that we were common to them. It was soothing to be ignored.
“Do you want to stop somewhere?” Taro asked. “Get something to eat?”
I was starving and filthy, but I didn’t want to dwandle. I looked forward to being safe inside Triple S walls. “I’d rather push on. Find out what this is all about.”
We rode to the Source Academy, where the Triple S council lived and presided. One pleasant aspect of these circumstances, perhaps the only one, was that I would finally be able to see Aryne again. I hadn’t since Taro and I had left her at the Source Academy years before, despite my promise to do so. When I’d made that promise, I’d been posted at High Scape, where the presence of multiple Pairs made it possible to be taken off the roster once in a while. Once we’d transferred to Flown Raven, I hadn’t been able to leave. Aryne and I had had to make do with letters.
I hated breaking promises.
When we reached the gate, I told the staff member on watch who we were and who we were there to see.
The staff member didn’t open the gate. “If you’re here to see the council, you’re to go to the Council House.”
“The council no longer sits here?” I asked.
“They crafted a new building on the fringes a few years ago.”
“Why?”
The staff member shrugged.
“Nothing of this was mentioned in our summons.”
“I don’t know anything about that.”
Of course he wouldn’t. It was stupid to complain of it to him. “Where is it, then?”
“It’s on the west side. You can see it from the end of Bridal Street. You’ll know it when you see it. It’s the only building in that area.”
We got back on our horses and I followed Taro through the streets.
The first thing I noticed about the building I presumed was the Council House was that it was surrounded by a high stone wall. That was unexpected and alarming. I’d grown up surrounded by walls – the Academy needed to keep the Triple S students from mingling with regulars and risking a spontaneous Bond with the other children – but as far as I was concerned, no other building needed them.
We dismounted and went to the solid iron gate and Taro hit the gong.
The iron visor slid open and a pair of eyes stared at us. “Yes?”
“Source Karish and Shield Mallorough,” I announced.
She pulled the gate open, and it looked like it took her considerable effort to do so. The gate was heavy, then. She was neither a Shield nor a Source. The Triple S did hire regulars as staff, but she was wearing what looked like the uniform of a Runner – a professional criminal catcher – minus the cape. Black high boots and black trousers and a black tunic. Runners working with the Triple S was unusual.
Immediately beyond the gate was a wide cobblestone path, very white against the luscious green grass, which led straight to a stone structure. The building looked almost like a small castle, with very small windows and corner turrets. It was absolutely bizarre. Why would the Triple S need a building constructed for the purpose of protection?
After removing our bags from our horses, we jogged up to a door that seemed too small to be used for a castle. I knocked on it and it was promptly opened by a young man in the same black outfit as that worn by the woman at the gate. “Source Karish and Shield Mallorough,” I told him.
The man stared at us as though he suspected I was lying. Twit. I dug out the letter from the Triple S council and handed it to him. He read it quickly, gave it back to me, and said, “This way.”
The foyer was cold, empty stone with no art on the walls and not a scrape of furniture. It felt barren and intimidating.
The young man took us through a maze of corridors and then to another door, on which he knocked. Upon being asked who was there, our escort announced, “The Flown Raven Pair.”
“Hang there,” was the response.
A moment later, the door was opened by a young man. He had a white braid on his left shoulder. A Shield. “Thank you, Runner Telvien.”
So, yes, a criminal catc
her. Why was he there?
The Runner left and the Shield said to us, “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to your rooms.”
Rooms? Plural?
Yes, on the second floor. The Shield took us to a small bedchamber. “I hope you’ll be comfortable here, Shield Mallorough. This way, Source Karish.”
Taro didn’t move. “I’ll be here with Dunleavy.”
The Shield’s expression became stiff and cool. “That is inappropriate.”
“Do you honestly think that by putting us in separate rooms, you’ll stop us from sleeping together?” I asked.
“These were the instructions I was given. Please don’t make things difficult.”
Pompous little prat.
Taro rolled his eyes but followed the Shield down the corridor. Probably just to get rid of him.
I dumped my bags on the bed before searching through my smallest satchel for paper, a pen, and my ink pot, arranging them on the tiny desk that had been crammed into the small room. I sat on the wobbly chair – who had this room been designed for, anyway? – and wrote on the first page, Dear Mika.
Taro had told me several times that when students were found to have unique talents, they were sent somewhere by the Triple S and were never heard of again. Was this where they were sent? Did the Triple S expect us to just disappear?
Well, if they did, they were out of luck. Fiona and a whole lot of other people in Flown Raven knew where we were. My brother, Mika, would be the next to find out, and I would be sending letters to anyone I could think of.
Only a few moments later, Taro stepped into the room with his bags. “So mine is as bad as yours. At least you have a window.”
“Yes, and it looks like it even opens.”
Taro hadn’t even finished unpacking before a staffer came in with a wooden tray of the sort I remembered from my Academy days. It held plates of hot sliced meat, fried potatoes and a pile of cut tomatoes.
He stopped short after a glance at Taro. “You are expected to be in your own room, Source Karish.”
Taro waved a hand in a languid gesture. “Meeting expectations is direly boring, my good fellow.”
“You are only making things more difficult for yourselves.”
“I’m pretty sure we’re making things more difficult for you all, too, which is delightful.”
The man didn’t know how to respond to that. It was sort of funny.
And in one moment, Taro slipped from fool to aristocrat. He snapped his fingers. “You may go fetch my meal now.”
The man frowned, but he didn’t object. He set the tray on the desk, letting it drop for the last inch right on top of my letter, and left without another word.
“I must say, I’m shocked to experience this lack of respect from Triple S staff,” Taro commented. “He’s paid to be here, right?”
“Not everyone is delighted with their occupation.”
“That’s no reason to cut into us. We didn’t do anything to him.”
The staffer came back with Taro’s meal, which turned out to be lukewarm.
“Is there a reason we can’t just eat wherever everyone else is eating?” I asked. I assumed there was a dining hall somewhere.
The staffer didn’t bother to answer us before leaving the room.
This was becoming aggravating. Was this what we could expect from everyone? So far, none of the people we’d encountered had so much as smiled.
During our five years in Flown Raven, the world had skewed into something almost unrecognizable without our knowing about it. We needed to learn what was going on.
I looked at the small bed dubiously. “Not much room.”
“We’ve had less.”
“Yes, but having any fun will be difficult.”
He smirked. “Where’s your creativity gone?”
“I’ll leave that to you.”
“I shall endeavour to rise to the challenge.”
I picked up a pillow and hit him in the face with it. He deserved it.
Chapter Five
I was yanked from a deep sleep so quickly I was left disoriented and unsure of where I was.
“What the hell?” Taro disentangled himself from me and rose from the bed.
A sound came. A knock on the window.
So, of course, Taro went right over to it and opened it without demonstrating any thought about being cautious. “Who the hell are you?”
“Told you, you should have visited me,” an unfamiliar voice complained. “You can’t even recognize me.”
“Aryne?” Taro exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”
“Are you going to let me in or what?”
Taro stepped back while I hastily lit a candle to illuminate the slim young woman who crawled through the window.
When she was on her – bare – feet, I could see she had grown quite tall in the six years since I’d seen her last. Her posture was better, too: spine straight and shoulders back. And she was absolutely beautiful, with lovely almond-shaped black eyes, warm brown skin, fantastic cheekbones, and a fine jaw.
Taro grinned at her. “Can I still hug you or are you too grown up for that?”
She rolled her eyes at him before throwing her arms around him. I hugged her, too, but I was much less comfortable about it. She noticed, of course, because she’d never been an idiot. “You’ve gotten rigid again,” she told me. “Too much northern influence.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “Your accent has changed. Considerably.”
“I was told my original accent and vocabulary would prevent everyone from taking me seriously. Complete bollocks, but none of the stiffs would listen to me.”
That last sentence sounded more like the Aryne I remembered.
“How did you get up here?” Taro was looking out the window.
I joined him, and I shared his astonishment. There was nothing to assist her to get to the window, no ladder, nothing to stand on. “Did you climb the wall?” I demanded.
“It’s easy. Just takes practise.”
“Practise? Practise where?”
“Everywhere.”
“But how did you get out of the Academy grounds?”
She snickered. “If you know what to do, the gate practically swings open. And I’m not the only one to crack it, you know.”
There had been those who chose to escape the grounds when I was a student, to fulfil a dare or to satisfy curiousity. Though most hadn’t suffered for it, one Shield had spontaneously Bonded with an undiscovered Source, and they’d formed into a complete mess of a Pair, emotional past all use. That had proved to be an effective deterrent, at least for a while.
“How did you know we were here?” Taro asked.
“Everyone knows you’re here.”
“In the city, fine, but this building? How did you even know this building exists?”
She sprawled on the bed. “We know you came to the Academy – a lot of the staff seem to think we’re all deaf and stupid – but that they didn’t let you in. So I figured you were here. And I know about this place because the regulars do. They talk about it sometimes.”
“You actually talked to the regulars during your escapades?” I was appalled. “Aryne, you know better. You could have Bonded.”
She smirked. “No, ‘cause I was already Bonded.”
Taro and I stared at her for a long, silent moment.
“What?” Taro’s voice broke in the middle of the word.
“Her name is Druce Steeler. She’s brilliant.”
“That’s impossible,” I declared. “You’re all Sources.”
“Not me. I’m a Shield!” She pointed at me. “Ha! Just like I told you!”
Taro hissed, “Keep your voice down. People might be walking around.”
This appeared to irritate Aryne. She pulled in a deep breath through her nose and let it out, slowly. Calming herself down.
“Oy, that’s familiar,” Taro muttered.
“How did this happen?” I demanded.
“I was at the Ac
ademy, taking all those lessons, including politics and law and trash.”
I wasn’t sure why she glared at Taro. Did she know he’d asked the Headmistress to add those lessons to a curriculum that didn’t normally include those subjects? She seemed to know a lot she shouldn’t.
“Anyway, Druce came back from a training tour. I was coming out of Tausen’s office where she’d been tearing a strip off for a trivial infraction and Druce was coming to report about her tour. That was that.”
“When did this happen?”
“Few weeks after I got there.”
“When you were eleven?” Taro rubbed his face.
Oh, that could be bad. “And you’re all right?”
“I was angry a whole lot at first,” she admitted. “Things – stupid things – made me furious. It was like I couldn’t think. And then I’d hit people. When they didn’t need to be hit.”
“How did the professors handle this?”
“They don’t know.”
“They don’t know? How is that possible?”
“They just thought I was being uncivilised, right? Bad upbringing, starting training when I was so old. I calmed down after a while and it was fine.”
Taro was pacing in the tiny room. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
She frowned at him. “You always told me not to tell anyone anything.”
“I didn’t include us in that suggestion.”
“I didn’t want to write anything down. Sometimes letters go astray.”
I wasn’t thrilled that Aryne had inherited Taro’s – our – paranoia. “How do you manage things, if no one knows?”
“Druce is twenty-six. She goes to Matches. She never gets Chosen. People are giving up on her. She finds it aggravating, of course, but we think we should wait a few more years to tell everyone. We know we’ll have to, eventually, but maybe it’ll look less freakish if we lie about when it happened.” She scraped her hand through her hair. “Do you have a better idea?”
No. None. “Let us think about it a bit. But you’re not getting any Shield training. That’s dangerous for both of you.”
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