We sat in silence for a few moments, Taro rubbing my arm. “Are you all right?” he asked. “This isn’t you.”
“I really want to tell them,” I admitted.
“We can’t,” he said.
“I know.”
“We promised the Empress.”
“I know.”
“And I fully believe she left people with orders to, well, deal with us if we spoke to anyone even after her death.”
“I agree.”
“But you still want to tell them.”
“Yes.”
“But—”
I shrugged. “I have no sensible reason.”
“So let’s hear your insensible one.”
I hesitated.
“I already know you’re not logical all the time. Admit to your foolish fantasies.”
Foolish fantasies. Aye, they were. “It’s just what Mika said. We have secrets that only the wrong sort of people know.” And after having that pointed out, I felt vulnerable. “It feels like we’ve been separated from everyone else, like we’re all by ourselves in forces I don’t understand and maybe don’t even know about, and I never expected to feel that way.”
“Think how it feels to—” Taro cut himself off.
“To what?”
He shook his head. “Nothing that makes sense. I was just thinking out loud.”
I suspected it was something more than that, but I couldn’t imagine what, and I wasn’t going to push. I chose, instead, to complain. “All I wanted to do was Shield, you know. Be a Shield, be a good one, and in my free time bench dance and read history texts and go to plays. That’s all I wanted.”
“And that’s what you would have gotten if I hadn’t Chosen you.”
I forced myself to chuckle, and I had no doubt it sounded fake. “Think highly of yourself, don’t you?”
Except he was right. Our first assignment had been High Scape, such an important city with such an impossible number of natural events that a newly minted Pair would never, under normal circumstances, be posted there. I was dead sure it was because of Taro that we were, and from that situation all of the crazy aspects of our lives flowed.
Sometimes, I heard about other Pairs, stories about saving settlements from vicious disasters just at the last moment, stories about neglect and licentiousness, stories of arrogance and demanding from merchants the best of luxury items. I’d never heard any accusations of them being assassins, though. That was reserved for Taro and me. We were just that special.
I had killed Creol. Deliberately. A rogue Source who could create natural disasters and had been using that ability to try to tear High Scape apart. He’d had no concern for the people he’d killed. He’d had no concern for anything, from what I’d seen. I hadn’t been able to think of any way to stop him, and there hadn’t been a lot of time to devise or execute any options, so I’d killed him.
Was I as bad as an assassin? Worse?
There were people who knew what I’d done, but they were people so discredited that no one was prepared to believe what they said. Almost no one. The Triple S council was suspicious that something strange had happened. They just weren’t sure what, and neither Taro nor I were about to tell them.
I could never tell my brothers that. They couldn’t help but see me as some kind of monster. That was how I saw myself. There had to have been a better way to deal with Creol.
But it would be wonderful if we could tell them something of the rest. “I’d like it if there were others who knew some of what we know. Especially about Aryne. And the Triple S’s interest in your other abilities. It seems those are both secrets that could result in our disappearing in one way or another. If that happened, it would be nice if someone else knew why.” And maybe do something about it?
Were these really the thoughts tumbling through my mind? Weren’t we supposed to be avoiding the melodramatic?
“Do you think they could keep it to themselves?” Taro asked.
“I don’t know. I don’t know them well enough.”
“What about your parents?”
“No.” That answer just shot out of me, no thought required. I had no idea why I felt so opposed to telling my parents while feeling tempted to tell my brothers. There was no logical reason for it.
Maybe because my mother had demanded to know, while my brothers had offered to listen.
“It’s up to you whether we tell them or not,” said Taro.
“Don’t do that,” I objected. “This involves you, too.”
“They’re your family. You know them better than I.”
Not by much. “So you’re not opposed to telling someone just on principle.”
After a hesitation, he said, “No, I suppose not.”
“Huh.” That surprised me. He was almost rabid about not telling the Triple S council anything. I would have thought that distrust would apply to everyone.
“You’re too tired to be making important decisions,” he said. “Let’s go to bed and think about it in the morning.”
I didn’t want to think about it at all. I almost resented the fact that the possibility had been raised. I would worry about it until I made a decision, and then I would worry about the decision itself, and whether I’d made the right one. There was just no way I could forget about it, no matter what I did.
Chapter Sixteen
Two days later, my idiotic Source and I were slipping out of the manor in the middle of the night, dressed darkly and carrying lanterns. We were on our way to Kent to destroy some property. I was so proud.
I had been hoping Taro would talk himself out of his insane scheme to visit destruction upon Kent. I was dead sure anything we did would make things worse for Fiona. But Taro had remained resolute and I hadn’t been able to think of a way to stop him. So there we were, doing something so half-witted I was delighted no one who mattered would ever know about it.
We hadn’t gone far, though, when we heard footsteps behind us. We turned around swiftly. Then I had to hold back an oath or two behind my tightly clenched teeth.
“Where are we going?” Dias asked in a low voice.
“You’re going back to bed,” I told him.
“Aye, good luck with that.”
“I’m pretty sure whatever you’re doing isn’t sanctioned by anyone,” Mika added. “Or you wouldn’t be doing it in secret.”
I remembered being that naive. Then the Empress sent us to Flatwell to look for Aryne. No one had been allowed to know about that. “It’s Triple S business.”
“It is not,” Mika objected. “Or, at least, it’s not the usual kind of Triple S business.”
I looked at Taro, waiting for him to say something. He was always more persuasive than I. But it seemed he had chosen to remain silent, possibly out of the misguided belief that I held some sway over my brothers.
We’d have to try this another night. I wasn’t opposed to that. It gave Taro more time to change his mind.
And apparently Mika could see the thoughts in my head, because he said, “We’ll just follow you then, too.”
“Are you watching me?”
“Yes.”
I hadn’t expected him to admit it. I didn’t know what to say. I felt I should be offended to learn he was spying on me, but I wasn’t. It was almost nice to know. How odd.
“So we should get going, yes?” Mika prompted.
Yes. I supposed. I thought taking my brothers along was a terrible idea. I didn’t want any witnesses to what we were going to do. When it came down to it, I really didn’t know them.
That shouldn’t have been so disheartening. I was no different than any other Shield or Source. In fact, I knew my family far better than most members of the Triple S knew theirs. Taro hadn’t seen any of his family the entire time he’d been in the Source Academy, though his example was far to the other extreme of behavior from families. My parents had made a real effort to make sure I knew them. I understood I was important to them.
That didn’t mean I could predict
how my brothers would conduct themselves, especially in situations that were not quite legal.
Mika slung an arm around my shoulder. “You know Deacon?”
“No.” Other than that Mother had mentioned him.
“He wanted to marry Kaaren.”
“All right.” Why hadn’t I been told? That was important, wasn’t it?
“He was an ass.”
“Ah.”
“Kaaren isn’t really a keen judge of character. It’s a good thing she’s going to be a holder. If she were a trader the whole family would be wearing bedsheets.”
“All right,” I repeated. Why was he telling me this?
“But Kaaren was enamored, and our parents were impressed. His family were prosperous suppliers. Everyone thought an alliance was a grand idea.”
“And you didn’t?” I asked. “Just because he was . . . What? Pompous?” An annoying but not unforgivable flaw.
“Because he hired a prostitute and beat her almost to death.”
I stared at him. “And no one would believe her?”
“His father and brother vouched for his appearance elsewhere.”
“But you believed her.”
“Unlike our sister, I’m an excellent judge of character.”
“What did you do?” Taro asked.
“You didn’t beat him almost to death, did you?” The idea made me sick, even if the man deserved it.
“No, much as I would have liked to. That would have made him a figure for sympathy. No, I broke into their solicitor’s office and read their books. I sent correspondence to every connection they had, other suppliers, holders and traders, a few politicians and some relatives. Anonymously, of course. I told them that the family business was absolutely riddled with debt and that their finances were being examined by a royal auditor, that their product was poisoned, and that Deacon violated animals. I knew enough of their details to be persuasive, apparently.”
“He destroyed the entire family in a matter of weeks,” Dias added proudly.
I was breathless for a few moments. I didn’t know how to feel. I was impressed and horrified all at once.
“Kaaren became disgusted with them, of course. As did Mother and Father. So that was the end of that.”
“And no one ever found out?” I asked.
“Not yet.” Mika squeezed my shoulders. “The point is, sometimes we have to do underhanded things to protect the people we love.”
I understood what he was trying to do, I really did. He told me something that he had done, something illegal with enormous repercussions should others know, to make me feel comfortable about performing an illegal act of my own before him.
Mika gave me another squeeze. “Where are we going?”
Taro took the decision out of my hands. “Kent’s estate,” he said. “You know those rumors that we can create events as well as stop them? They’re true. At least, they are for us.”
My brothers didn’t appear to be surprised.
“What are you going to do?” Dias asked.
“Won’t know until we get there. But I’m aiming for something dramatic. A warning. It’s less than he deserves, but right now I just want him to stop. It’ll be up to Fiona to decide what the long term consequences for his actions should be.”
“It’s always good to start small,” Mika agreed. “No need to kill a fly with a sledgehammer when a news circular will do.”
This comment made me wonder if breaking into a solicitor’s office was the only nefarious stunt Mika had ever performed. Right then wasn’t the appropriate moment to ask, but I would keep it in mind.
Though we kept a brisk pace, it took longer to get to the border between Westsea and Kent than I was comfortable with. And stepping over that border was a little disconcerting, because the ground changed, almost immediately. There was a sort of roll to it, and it felt harder beneath my feet. And then, after a while and out of nowhere—or so it seemed—a large rock outcropping appeared. It was ragged and high, and I could see us ripping our hands and clothes to shreds attempting to climb it. We didn’t have to climb, though, as a narrow passage had been chipped through it. Created by human hands, I was sure, not by water, as had been the breach through the rock behind Fiona’s manor.
That would have been a nasty job, cutting through all that rock. And moving through the very narrow passage was disturbing. I couldn’t get rid of the unfounded fear that it could easily fall together and crush me.
It wasn’t much longer before we got to the manor. It was an ugly mixture of a handful of ill-suited architectural styles. It was also smaller than Fiona’s. By a lot. Maybe that was part of Kent’s problem.
At the back of the manor was a garden, more elaborate than Fiona’s and sprinkled with statues of nudes that were, to my untrained eyes, grossly exaggerated. It was closer to the manor than I liked. What if someone saw us?
“This will do,” Taro whispered.
“In what way?” Dias asked.
“You’ll see.”
“Do you need us to do anything?”
“No. Oh, well, possibly. If someone comes running, it would be good if you could let us know. We’ll be distracted.”
“Yes,” said Dias. “I remember.”
“Lee?”
“I’m ready.”
Rearranging soil had become the easiest form of channeling. There was something wrong with that, I was sure, given that we weren’t supposed to be able to do anything like that. But it was almost effortless. He lowered his shields, I raised mine, I felt Taro pull in the forces, and the ground began to tremble. I heard exclamations—though quiet—of shock from my brothers.
The ground didn’t tremble much, though. Taro had become adept at keeping the movement of the ground very precise. I was sure there was nothing happening beyond the confines of the garden.
The noise could have been a problem, though. There was no hiding the faint rumble as the soil broke apart and heaved, the crack of the stone paths as they were pressed into pieces, the splintering of the trunks of the trees. I was sure someone was going to wake and come running.
But no one did, and I wondered at it. How could they not hear this?
It was quickly done. Most of the garden was well beneath the ground when Taro stopped. All except the heads of the statues. Taro kept them in view, little white globes gleaming in the moonlight.
“That is strangely disturbing,” Dias murmured.
I agreed.
“Is that it?” Dias asked.
“Unless he’s a complete idiot,” Taro whispered, “he won’t be able to dismiss this as something natural. He’ll know someone did it, in retaliation for his actions. He’ll know it’s a warning. At the same time, he won’t be able to blame Fiona for this. It’s an accusation that will sound too ridiculous to too many people.”
“What if he doesn’t perceive this as a warning?” Mika reached out and touched a stone head. “Or what if he doesn’t care?”
“Then we’ll have to come up with something more drastic,” Taro said grimly. “Let’s go. Kent is supposed to know I’ve done it, but I don’t want anyone to see me doing it. If he can say he saw me, it will give whatever accusations he may make more veracity.”
So we left, apparently unnoticed. Once more, Mika put an arm around me. It felt nice. I didn’t experience the instant relaxation inherent in Taro’s touch, but it was fortifying nonetheless. This was my brother. He knew one of my secrets. I knew one of his. There was an odd sense of safety about that.
Chapter Seventeen
All the casters—except the casters from Kent—met in the predawn in Farmer Biden Netan’s barn. This was not a place where the circle had met before, and that was why it was chosen. They were hoping to avoid another attack with the new location and an earlier than normal date. I hoped there were no casters within the circle secretly communicating with one of the Kent casters. No one, within my hearing, had addressed that possibility, but I hoped they had when I wasn’t around. It was an obvious problem.
On our walk over, Browne had said she had informed the rest of the circle of Radia’s request, and they had spent the last couple of days thinking about it. I had spent those same days practicing my levitation spells on ever larger objects, from candlesticks to platters to the furniture in our suite, locking the door so no maid could swan in without notice. At first, I noticed no difference in the level of concentration and effort required, but when I moved from the vanity to the bed, the pull on my mind was much deeper. I also had to be much more careful about the manner in which the bed rose, making sure it didn’t hit anything on the way up or down. It required a precision of focus that almost approached that which I needed for Shielding.
The first time I raised the bed, it exhausted me and brought on a faint headache. I left it for a couple of hours and raised it again. That time, it was easier and less draining. I left it for the day. The next morning, I did it again, and it was easier still. So I moved down to the dining room, locked all the doors, and raised the dining table. That also required a leap of concentration and raw effort, but as I did it again and again, it became easier and easier.
Maybe I could work up to raising the rock on my own.
What would happen if I dropped it? Could it possibly crack? It hadn’t, as far as I knew, in the original collapse of the arch, but that didn’t mean damage was impossible. I didn’t want to be responsible for that. At least, not all by myself.
As before, the members of the circle hummed while the sun rose. As before, the humming was a little eerie but also appealing. The shivers along my upper back were almost pleasant.
“All right,” Mitloehner said once they had finished. “What have we got?”
“I can probably estimate the weight of the rock,” said Mason Lamine Hefez. “We can find items that together approximate the weight of the rock. We practice levitating the objects, and then we practice raising them all together, each item raised by a different person. And then, when we raise the rock, each person will focus on a different portion of the rock.”
That seemed complicated.
“It is more logical to lessen the weight of the rock,” Tanner Cheon Thatcher suggested.
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