Marcus seemed to catch up in time to jump over the next hurdle with Taro. It was hard to see from my angle, but the two horses seemed awfully close to each other. The participants weren’t supposed to touch each other. What happened if their horses did?
Assuming such an occurrence didn’t result in the animals getting entangled and falling and everyone involved dying.
I could hear gasps and cheers from the others. Who were they cheering for? They couldn’t really care. Whether I had to marry Marcus or not would have absolutely no impact on the lives of anyone else. So how did they decide who to be loyal to? Taro, because he had been born in Flown Raven? Marcus, because as a regular he was more like them than a Source?
Marcus fell behind again, just slightly, and again he shifted forward in his saddle. Is that why the gait of his horse hitched just the slightest bit? And was that why his horse clipped a cannon against the top of the hurdle?
It was gut wrenching, watching horse and rider fall down. I thought I could almost hear the impact. I was sure that had to have killed Marcus, though I couldn’t see the position in which he landed.
Taro kept on riding. Was he aware of what had happened? Should he stop if he did? He would forfeit if he did, but Marcus must have forfeited by falling. What would happen if they both forfeited? They would have both lost, technically.
If Marcus wasn’t dead.
I was dismayed at the possibility of him dying.
But then the horse awkwardly climbed to its feet and one of the people who had run onto the—what did one call it? a field? a pitch?—caught its reins and calmed it down. Two of the others on the field ran to Marcus but he was already on one knee before they reached him. Everyone cheered.
And Taro slowed his horse and turned it around, trotting back to the hurdle at which Marcus had fallen. When he had reached it, he dismounted and stood beside Marcus, offering a hand to help him up. The cheering got louder.
No one seemed to worry about the rule concerning touching.
Marcus got to his feet and put a hand to his head. There was some discussion among the people on the field, including Fiona, who had run out to join them. No doubt they were asking Marcus if he was hurt. Then there was some pointing about the field, and I guessed that Marcus had claimed he was fine and could continue the race.
Which Taro had been guaranteed to win had he continued. It was wonderful that he behaved with such generosity and honor. I kind of wished it wasn’t the shape of my life that was vulnerable to his generosity and honor, though.
After a few more moments of discussion, the two men mounted their horses and arranged them just after the last hurdle they had ridden over. Or, in Marcus’s case, fallen over. Then Fiona called them to start, and they charged at the next hurdle. It seemed to me a ridiculous risk. Surely the horses didn’t have enough space to work up the speed necessary to jump so high?
Yet they did, though it clearly required great effort, the force of the movement pushing both riders back in their saddles. And then they were off, and they seemed to be back on track.
But it quickly became apparent that Marcus had felt the effects of his fall more deeply than he’d admitted, for he swiftly fell behind. By the third hurdle it was no longer a matter of two horses in unison, and by the sixth Taro was in the clear lead.
People were still cheering, but I could hear that they were rooting for Marcus. Because he was losing? Weren’t people supposed to admire those who won?
The end of the race was anticlimactic. No one was surprised when Taro prevailed. I was pleased that he received a good bit of applause as he crossed the finish line. It would have been horrible for him to go to all that effort and receive no positive response.
Fiona declared Taro the winner of the test.
I closed my eyes in relief. Thank Zaire.
I hadn’t realized how very worried I’d been that this challenge would be won by Marcus, and that that would have been the end of it.
I opened my eyes when I heard the others begin to applaud, and I joined in enthusiastically. I would never question how Taro chose to spend his free time again. He was a brilliant man.
I dismounted, giving my fistful of reins to a neighbor, and jogged down to the field, followed by my mother, my brothers, and Browne. Cars was already there. As we approached, I could hear him berating Marcus for losing. Ass.
There were a lot of reasons why I wasn’t going to be marrying Marcus, but Cars was a significant one. Cars was not as bad as Taro’s mother—no one could be—but at least Taro’s mother seemed to have things to do that took her away from our immediate presence. I had a feeling Cars was very much in Marcus’s life, and I couldn’t imagine associating with him on a regular basis without having to work real hard to resist the impulse to poison his tea.
Taro dismounted and I went to him, rising to my toes to kiss him on the cheek. “You are marvelous.”
He grinned.
Yes, we were back on track.
“Do shut up,” I heard Browne say to Cars, and that was kind of funny.
Cars’s face grew even redder. “How dare you—”
“Your son has an enormous lump near his temple and his eyes are glazed.”
Taro frowned. “Is he badly injured?”
Browne didn’t answer, instead asking Marcus to follow her finger with his eyes. He seemed to be having trouble with it.
“What’s wrong with him?” Cars asked in a suddenly milder tone.
“I’m not sure, yet. I’d like to get him somewhere quiet and take a more thorough look at him.”
“So let’s get him back to the manor,” Fiona ordered.
“The tavern’s closer,” said Cars.
“The manor’s quieter and there’s more room. Healer Browne can easily stay if she needs to, without being disturbed, and my staff can bring her anything she or Trader Pride requires. Tarce, see if you can quickly get hold of a carriage or wagon.”
“We will do the race again when you are better,” said Taro.
I couldn’t help glaring at him. There was honorable and then there was just ridiculous.
“You can’t do it again,” said Fiona. “The test was completed by both parties. It’s done.”
“He was injured!” Cars objected.
“And if Source Karish had been the injured party, you would have me make the same decision?”
Cars opened his mouth, and I was dead sure he was going to lie. Fiona apparently was, too. She raised her eyebrows at him, daring him. He closed his mouth.
Heh.
“I know you’re supposed to conduct the final test tomorrow,” said Browne. “But I don’t advise you to. Maybe not for a few days, depending on what’s going on with your head.”
“We will wait until he is sound before proceeding to the final test,” Taro announced.
I held back a sigh. The challenge was supposed to require only three days. It was taking a couple of weeks, instead. That couldn’t be a good thing. Variation from a regular schedule rarely was.
Chapter Twenty
Shortly after we returned to the manor, I learned that Marcus had a concussion, but that it wasn’t severe, and he needed to rest for only a few days. I was surprised at the strength of the relief I felt. It would have been awful if he’d died. Certainly, it would have made my life easier if he had, but he seemed to be a decent man, and the world could always stand to have more of those.
A little while later, I was beginning to wonder if I’d been the one to get hit on the head. The headache that developed over the course of the afternoon was piercing and brought on an intense level of nausea. Most alarming, when Taro touched me it subdued only a fraction of the pain. I still ended up throwing up, which made me feel like my skull was going to shatter.
“It’s that damn drug,” Taro groused.
“That doesn’t make sense. I was feeling better.”
“Drugs have unpredictable results. You said Nab told you what the effects were. Did she include vomiting?”
�
��No. And talking about vomiting is making it more likely that I’ll need to do it again.” I breathed shallowly through my nose.
“Could you Shield now, if you had to?”
“Of course.” I would have to, wouldn’t I?
Though, when I contemplated casting the spell, I found it very difficult to remember the words. That wasn’t good.
“I don’t believe you.”
I shrugged.
“I’m getting Nab.”
“It’s just a headache.”
“She caused it. She can alleviate it.” He kissed my forehead. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
I couldn’t even bear to lie down. I sat in a chair, holding my head in my hands, breathing carefully.
Returning as soon as he could wasn’t quite soon enough. I ended up throwing up again, and had to concede Taro might have been right.
It was a bizarre reaction. Maybe it had something to do with my being poisoned a few months before. My current symptoms felt similar to what I’d felt then. But I couldn’t believe something from the poison could have remained in my body for so long.
I seemed to get sick and injured a lot. It was annoying.
A horrible explosive noise ripped through the air and shattered in my mind. I clenched my teeth against a scream as I saw some weird sort of light flash up and flash away just outside the closest window. What the hell was that?
I moved closer to the window. Out of nowhere, an odd, contained clot of white light just appeared with another explosive crack. I’d never seen anything like it. Was it some kind of peculiar lightning?
But there was no rain. And the sound accompanying the light wasn’t anything like thunder.
I was so rattled by the light, in so much pain from my headache, that it took a few moments to become aware of the almost unpleasant shivery sensation just under my skin. Which meant someone was casting a spell. All right. What was the point of it? To scare people, I supposed. I imagined it would do a pretty good job.
Where were these people getting these spells?
Feeling dizzy, I stepped back and sat down. And this was fortunate, as the next flash of light hit the nearest window, smashing the glass and warping the ironwork. A second ball of light quickly appeared thereafter, this time developing on the floor just inside the window and leaving a scorch mark. I imagined I could feel the strength of it against my skin.
All right, now I was starting to get scared.
So were others in the house. I could hear shouts and screams and heavy and fast footsteps. And was that something burning?
I could hear the door to our suite being thrown open. “Shintaro!” Fiona called. “Shintaro!”
“In here!” I answered precisely in time to another flash of light. That was unnerving.
Fiona ran in. “What’s going on?” she demanded. “Where’s Shintaro? Why aren’t you doing something?”
“This is some kind of spell,” I told her. “This isn’t something a Pair can do anything about.”
“Can’t you do something? You can cast.”
“If there’s something that can be done with a cast, it’s beyond my knowledge and ability.”
“Where’s Shintaro?”
“There’s something wrong with me,” I admitted. “Taro’s gone to fetch Browne.”
“In this?”
“It wasn’t doing this when he left.”
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Don’t know exactly.”
“There has to be something you can do,” said Fiona. “Please, Dunleavy. It’s hitting the manor. We’ve got to stop this.”
“I honestly don’t know.”
“Damn it!” She left as quickly as she’d come.
I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate. Was there anything I could be doing? Was there a spell I could use, one that wasn’t an obvious choice but could be helpful with a little creative application?
Thoughts felt heavy, pressing hard against my headache.
Bailey was the next person to storm into my room, which shocked me almost as much as the light balls appearing out of thin air. “Please, Shield Mallorough,” he said. “Under any circumstances, I would never presume to disturb you, but the manor itself is being destroyed. There must be something you can do.”
Destroyed? “I’m sorry, but there isn’t.” I hated having to admit it.
“Where’s Source Karish?”
“He’s gone to visit Healer Browne.”
“I will fetch him back.”
“You can’t go out in that.”
“It’s barely safer in here.”
“There’s no point. Karish can’t do anything.”
Bailey shocked the hell out of me by not answering before dashing out of the room.
All right, this was enough. I opened the overmantel of the fireplace in our bedchamber. I pulled out a spell book and flipped through the pages, trying to find a spell that might be anywhere close to useful. But when I tried to actually read the words, it made my headache and my nausea more intense.
Anger bubbled up in my chest. Damned kyrra powder. Browne should have told me my reaction to it could be so severe. I wouldn’t have taken it. The circle probably hadn’t even needed me. I doubt the absence of one person would have made a real difference.
So I put everything back and sat on the end of the bed.
Not long after, I heard the door of the suite being flung open. “Lee!”
“In here.”
Taro strode in, followed by Browne.
“You’re crazy,” I accused him. “Running about in that . . . whatever it is.”
“We didn’t know it was focused around the manor until we got here. It seemed very far off at first.”
“It’s a cast,” I said.
“Aye,” Browne responded.
“Do you think it’s Kent?”
“Probably.”
So our attempt to warn him off had failed. Or had made him even more determined to act.
Browne flinched when the glass of another window was blown out. “Do you have any cave crystals?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
I frowned. “Why would I? I gave them all to you.”
Browne rooted around in her sack and retrieved a small bag. “I’ll be back soon.”
“You can’t leave Lee like this,” Taro objected.
“She can wait. I’m not sure the manor can.”
“You’re not leaving her like this.”
“Don’t you try that lord of the land demeanor with me, boy. You said you can’t do anything about the lights. I can.”
“There’s a tsunami coming.”
I looked at him. “What?” He hadn’t told me that.
“I felt it coming on the way back.” He turned to Browne. “She has to be able to Shield before it gets here.”
“One disaster at a time, Source.” And she left, ignoring Taro’s demands.
“She’s a healer, isn’t she?” Taro ranted. “That is her primary responsibility, is it not?”
“To Fiona and her people,” I said. “Maybe not us, so much.” Besides, I’d lasted this long, and it sounded like the manor was about to come down around our ears.
“It’s more important that you are at full strength. There is an event coming.”
“I can Shield if I have to.”
“It’s stupid to force you to do so when you’re at half strength, especially when a solution is currently walking about the manor.”
There was another explosion of light. Gods, it was loud. And the air felt sharp, almost painfully so.
It seemed to be making my headache worse.
Taro started pacing.
“Stay away from the window.” Getting hit by one of those spheres of light had to hurt like hell. If it wasn’t fatal. Was it fatal?
Taro sharply changed the direction of his pacing.
And then another ball appeared in another window. The timing was frightening.
“There’ll be no wi
ndows left in this damn place,” Taro complained.
Which would probably be interpreted as another sign of bad luck.
And all of a sudden, the air wasn’t so painful. “Ah,” I said.
“What?” Taro demanded.
“It’s working.”
“What’s working?”
“Whatever Browne’s doing.”
“There’s still light flashing about,” said Taro.
And people continued to shout and scream and run around, yet . . . “The air feels better.”
“What does that even mean?”
“Can’t you feel anything?”
He paused in his pacing, facing me, his hands clasped behind his back. “There is an odd crackling sensation against my skin. Is that what you mean?”
“Something like that.”
He resumed pacing. “She needs to hurry up. That tsunami is getting closer.”
The air changed again. There was something curving and almost smooth about it, like the shell of an empty egg. I lifted a finger to touch it, but there was nothing there. It confused me.
It was soothing, and my headache and nausea eased just a little.
“The lights aren’t hitting the manor anymore,” said Taro.
“I can hear them.”
“The lights are still playing about the sky. They’re just not reaching the roof or walls.” He leaned closer to the window.
“Stay away!” I said as loudly as I could manage.
He ignored me. “It’s bizarre. These balls of light appear, but only half of them actually form. It’s like they’re sheared into pieces. It’s fascinating.”
I didn’t care. It was insane to be hanging by the window right then. “Please.” To my worry and frustration, he refused to move.
The manor was still ringing with screams and shouts. I guessed no one else could feel the change in the air.
Fiona stormed back in. “You two all right?” she demanded.
“Where the hell is Nab?” Taro demanded. “Lee’s a wreck.”
“Are you?” Fiona asked me.
“No.”
“If she were dying, she would say she was fine,” Taro groused.
“I would not. I complain about things all the time.”
“I’ll see if I can find her. Right now I’m just trying to make sure no one’s dead.” And she was gone again.
Heroes at Odds Page 24