“I grew up Shielding myself,” Aryne reminded me.
Aryne was the only person I’d ever met, or even heard of, who could channel and Shield herself while doing so.
Though not well. She had kept herself alive, but had been able to channel only the weakest of forces. I wouldn’t want her trying to Shield anyone else relying only on what she had known as a child.
What a nightmare. “And Steeler? What does she think of this?”
“Druce is a very sensible person.”
That was an excellent non-answer. “How are you getting on with her?”
“She wasn’t thrilled when it happened. I don’t blame her. It made her a sort of freak, too, didn’t it? But she was good about it, and she treated me well right from the beginning. I like her. She’s smart, too.”
That was something. That was a lot. At times I had feared Aryne wouldn’t be Bonded at all.
She had insisted she was a Shield. I had believed her true nature had been one of a Source, so I had forced my will upon hers. If she had gone to the Shield Academy, she wouldn’t have met Steeler until she was ready to leave, and she wouldn’t have appeared so much of an anomaly. “I’m sorry. You were right. I should have listened to you.”
She shrugged. “I’ve gotten past it. Would have Bonded to Druce either way, wouldn’t I? Eventually.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Well, I’ll remind you when I want you to do something. Always good to be able to guilt people into doing what I want.”
I deserved that.
“Does Steeler know about your night time excursions?” Taro asked.
“Sometimes she comes with me. Though she can’t climb worth a damn.”
So, not so much of a settling influence there. Not that I wanted Aryne changed in any significant way, but her life would be easier if she could pretend to be like other people when it was necessary.
Aryne remained for about an hour, talking about Druce and the classes she was taking. As far as I knew, the Source Academy didn’t actually know that Aryne was of Imperial blood, but they seemed to have gone beyond what Taro had asked in making her familiar with all that a potential heir to the throne might need to know.
Eventually we had to kick her out, against her wishes. She pouted and called us old and climbed back down the wall.
I sat on the bed. That accent, her deportment. I wouldn’t have thought of trying to change those. “It sounds like they know she’s of the Imperial line. How did they find out?”
“I didn’t tell them, but maybe someone else did.”
“But I thought no one outside the family and their solicitors knew about it.”
“The Empress told us. I presume she told Thatcher. Maybe she told others, and those others weren’t discreet.”
Which meant all sorts of people could know.
I didn’t like the idea of people knowing about Aryne’s connections to the Emperor. They might try to take advantage of her, try to shape her to their will, with the hope that her lineage would benefit them at some point. Aryne was strong, but she had had a hard life during her first eleven years, a life of neglect interspersed with abuse. Thatcher, her caretaker, if he could be called such, had kept her docile – relatively – by telling her she was a slave with cruel owners who were still looking for her. She had been so young when he had found her, she hadn’t known any better.
She had been furious when she learned the truth – that she’d never been a slave, that slavery didn’t even exist on Flatwell. Thatcher had merely wanted control of a member of the Imperial family, planning to use her to his benefit some day.
She had every reason to hate the world. I didn’t blame her, but if she were given the power of a monarch, I feared what she would do with it. It was likely she would abuse it just as much as Gifford did.
Even if she didn’t, she had no experience with the vicious politics employed by the titleholders who lived in Erstwhile. The Academy couldn’t prepare her for that. She was highly intelligent and, as far as I could tell, an excellent judge of character, but the residents of Erstwhile were a breed apart. She might end up listening to the wrong people, or not listening to the right ones.
I was very ashamed of my feelings, and I would never, ever admit to them to anyone. Besides, it wasn’t my decision to make. I would stay well clear of the whole business.
Chapter Six
When the annoying staff member from the day before came to deliver my breakfast, he was not pleased to find Taro in my room. He didn’t say anything about it, though, just pinched up his mouth for a moment.
“You’ll be meeting with the council in an hour,” he announced stiffly. Then, his voice acquired a tone of glee as he continued. “The entire council.” Then he flounced out of the room.
The entire council? There were currently seventeen members. They were all going to interview us? That was going to take all damn day.
Lots of questions. Probably all about the same things they’d interrogated us about in years past. Taro being able to cause events and possibly heal people. His ability to channel at the place of his birth. What the Empress had done with us. What had happened in Middle Reach. Possibly everything we’d done since we’d Bonded.
I had grown weary of being asked the same questions again and again, but there was an advantage to the repeated inquisitions. Taro and I had our lies down cold.
For this meeting, Taro chose to dress entirely in black, his hair pulled into a ribbon at the back of his neck. This made him gorgeous – as did everything else – but also rather severe, almost untouchable.
I couldn’t create this effect myself, but following his example, I chose my clothing with care. I’d been told that wearing my hair pulled back from my forehead gave me an aura of severe disapproval, so I tied my hair into a tight bun and dressed in sharply cut trousers and a tailored shirt, hoping to make a chilly impression.
The staff member returned to lead us through the winding corridors and knocked on a door that looked like every other door in the building. After the invitation to enter, he opened the door for us and waved us inside. Then he quickly closed the door behind us, appearing as though he was making his escape.
We found ourselves looking at a black wooden table I guessed to be about thirty feet long. Twenty-one pairs of eyes looked back at me, not seventeen. An unprecedented increase in the size of the council, as far as I knew.
A quick scan told me that along each side of the table were five Pairs, with a Shield sitting at the head. The only chairs in the room were the ones occupied by the members of the council.
So we were to stand before them, like miscreants standing before the Headmaster’s desk, being chastised for violating rules.
The elderly heavy-set man sitting at the head of the table announced, “I am Shield Devo Regulos, Speaker of the council.”
The Speaker of the council set the schedule of all meetings, kept everyone to the code of conduct, and broke the ties of votes.
“Let me introduce everyone.”
Oh, sure, I was going to remember twenty more names. Not likely.
There was the Premier Pair, of course: Source Wongoi Zoffany and Shield Jules Sato. There was a treasurer and a secretary, as always. There were Pairs who managed the Academies, who arranged the rosters of posted Pairs, who managed supplies and maintained a relationship with the monarch.
But there were others with tasks I’d never heard of before. One Pair was dedicated to managing incoming personnel. I had no idea what that meant. Another procured what was called specialized supplies, which seemed to mean goods other than clothing, food, and maintenance materials.
And then, Regulos said, “In the interest of saving time, we will commence with an explanation of what we know. Please avoid insulting our intelligence by disputing the facts. Source Karish, we know you can create events. We know you have some talent with healing.” Taro opened his mouth, no doubt to object, but Regulos cut him off by raising a hand. “And Shield Mallorough, we know you can cast.”
I’d gotten so used to denying that allegation it was difficult to keep my lips together.
“One of the reasons we allowed you and your Source to remain in Flown Raven as long as we did was due to our belief that you would best learn to hone your skills under the tutalage of Healer Nab Browne, who is reputed to be particularly gifted in this area.”
It had been ridiculously optimistic for me to hope the council didn’t know of Browne.
But if they thought I was going to confirm that Browne was a caster, they didn’t know me. “I have no knowledge of Browne being able to cast.”
Regulos grit his teeth for a moment. “We know she can cast, Mallorough. Denying it is futile and childish.”
I said nothing.
“You are not adept at deception, Mallorough.”
I was fantastic at deception. I fooled people all the time. Really. The council had apparently been watching us for years, collecting information from all over the continent. I was sure it was something other than our lies that had tripped us up.
“And now that we have all acknowleged these facts, you will tell us all Browne has taught you.”
I was not going to help the Triple S drag Browne into anything.
Regulos sighed wearily. “Mallorough, we can keep you and your Source here for the rest of today. And tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that. We will get answers.”
Ah, hell.
Fine. If it were just me, they could ask me forever. But Taro was involved, too. If it had to be a choice between Taro and Browne – Taro and anyone – Taro would always win. But I would tell them as little as possible. Omitting information wasn’t actually lying.
Then I spent – what? – three hours? – telling them every spell I had ever learned, how difficult it had been, and that there were some spells I had just not been able to perform. However, I refused to confirm that Browne had been my teacher. From time to time, they would ask about Browne again. Each time, I refused to answer, and each time they would move on, for a while. Eventually, they decided to stop retreading that ground. Perhaps they accepted that that was a line for me.
But then, they probably already knew a lot about her, anyway.
By the end of it, my feet were starting to hurt. Taro’s were probably killing him. But his throat was unlikely to be as dry as mine, as he hadn’t said a word since we’d come into the room.
As if my thoughts had touched his, Source Wincinty, of the Pair responsible for managing new personnel, asked, “Source Karish, when did you become aware that Shield Mallorough was learning to cast spells?”
Taro looked at me. He raised his eyebrows. What should I do?
I raised mine in response. I have no idea.
And then Taro’s posture altered. With tiny shifts of shoulders and spine and hips, he suddenly changed from severe and formal to casual and relaxed. He grinned. “I don’t know. She did a lot of running around without me.”
“Really.” Wincinty’s flat tone was thick with disbelief.
“Really and truly.”
“A Pair as … close as you, and you didn’t speak of something so important?”
“Why would she? It wasn’t as though I could do it.”
I realised that Taro hadn’t known half the stuff I’d been up to in either High Scape or Flown Raven. I was appalled. It wasn’t as though I’d been deliberately keeping things from him. And he’d never expressed much interest in my casting. Just as I hadn’t really shown a lot of interest in his gambling or his steeple chasing.
We had no interests in common aside from channelling. Why were we lovers?
My feet were starting to throb. It was hard to resist shifting them.
The council members were shooting glances back and forth, apparently surprised that Taro had so little to say.
Or so he claimed. And they believed him. Who was a bad liar?
“All right, then.” At this point Shield Tam Dunn, part of the Pair who managed relations with the monarch, assumed the role of inquisitor. “We don’t know if you are aware of all of Emperor Gifford’s violations of Triple S authority, beyond compelling Karish to swear an oath of fealty at the coronation and sending you to Flown Raven. But you are no doubt aware that the Emperor is merely expanding a practice initiated by his mother, the Empress Constia.” Dunn opened a thick journal, flipping to the front. “The Empress retained the presence of both of you at Erstwhile for weeks, and kept Karish for several months thereafter. This not only prevented you from performing your duties, but having a valuable Source dancing attendance on a mere titleholder demeaned him and the Triple S as a whole.”
Mere titleholder. The Empress. Interesting.
“We require the details concerning why, under orders of the Empress, you abandoned your post for over a year.”
The Empress had forbidden us to speak of it on pain of execution. As far as we were concerned, her death didn’t necessarily free us from silence, as it was possible she’d left someone behind to keep an eye on us and to carry out her orders if we violated her instructions.
But that was a long time ago, and right then, I was tired.
Fine.
I told them almost everything, including the fact that the reason for our journey had been to find a relative of the Empress, one who might prove worthy to choose as an heir should Gifford fall short of the Empress’ expectations. It was at the point when I was about to claim we hadn’t found any such relative that Dunn interrupted me.
He said, “You found Aryne. She goes by Malkar.”
How could they possibly know that? Did they have a spy somewhere?
“Headmistress Tausen tells us that while Malkar has shown a lamentable lack of skill with channelling, her mind is extremely quick. She can maintain a civilised manner. She has a strong personality. These are valuable traits.”
Maintain a civilised manner. I didn’t like the sound of that. To me, it implied the council didn’t believe Aryne was actually civilised, just that she could behave as though she were. There were many who thought those from Flatwell lacked simple courtesy, education, any understanding of a complex society. I expected better of the Triple S.
“It’s possible the Emperor might moderate his behaviour should he learn that there is another with Imperial blood,” said Regulos. “Especially when that other is under the control of the Triple S.”
Under the control. That was almost funny. They had only as much control as Aryne granted them.
“There are other members of the royal family,” Taro pointed out.
Premier Sato said, “In the past two years, three members of the extended Imperial family have died from an inherited weakness in the blood – a weakness which may have caused the death of the Empress as well. Some believe that the Emperor is likewise affected. This might be the cause of his increasingly erratic behaviour. There’s a chance that being more distantly related, and raised in a different part of the world, Aryne may prove to be heartier stock.”
But what if Aryne had the weakness, too? That would just be her sort of luck, and damned unfair.
“To continue with the list of offences,” said Dunn, “The Empress took it upon herself to appoint professors to both Academies.”
That was news to me.
“We responded by forbidding the students to attend their classes.”
I remembered that! Having our schedules rearranged, leaving large gaps during certain days. How did I miss the information that the professors of those classes had been imposed on us by the Empress?
“This was followed by an volley of threats,” Dunn explained grimly. “The Empress intimated she might cut our funding. I reminded her that the Tripartite Act guaranteed support for the Triple S. She suggested she could have the Imperial Council overturn the act. We pointed out that without sufficient funds, the Academies couldn’t properly train our Pairs, thus creating long-term problems for everyone.”
A standoff that the Triple S would probably have lost. They had to eat, while Constia co
uld have let the various hot sites suffer catastrophies until the Triple S gave in.
“While I wouldn’t claim that the Empress actually conceded the point, she did suspend her more blatant violation of our rights. Nevertheless, behind the scenes, she continued to press the limits of her authority, interpreting old laws in new ways. And she did send her own Pair on little excursions no one knows about.”
There was always a Pair stationed at Erstwhile, even though the site was cold. It was a matter of prestige for the ruler and a nod to the important relationship between the two institutions. A serious Pair, one who valued their skill and the work they’d been trained to do, rarely aspired to be posted there. They were treated like pets, shown off at parties, and taunted for the easy lives they had.
“The Emperor has chosen to expand on his mother’s activities. He has been posting Pairs wherever he wishes. Source Karish isn’t the only Triple S member who has been forced to swear fealty. Gifford, like his mother, has attempted to send favoured regulars to our Academies to provide instruction. He has also sent us people he has deemed Sources and Shields, and when, inevitably, they prove to be otherwise, we send them back. He finds this offensive and arrogant. And now he is also threatening to revoke the monetary obligations of the Crown. When he was reminded of the Tripartite Act, he showed it even less respect than his mother had, claiming that as High Justice, he has the right to make adjustments to the law without the input of the Imperial Council.”
The position of High Justice was meant to be purely ceremonial. He had to give royal assent to any new law, but otherwise he was supposed to stay out of the whole process, because he didn’t really know anything about it.
It was possible he had educated himself, but I found this unlikely. It didn’t seem in character.
“He then reminded us that he was in charge of the Imperial Guard, which was always prepared to subdue those who defied His Majesty’s authority.”
What? Did I understand that correctly? “The Emperor is threatening to attack you with the Imperial Guard?”
“No, Shield Mallorough,” Dunn said coolly. “He’s threatening us. The whole of the Triple S.”
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