The Hero Strikes Back

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The Hero Strikes Back Page 14

by Moira J. Moore


  I glanced back. I felt my eyes widen. It wasn’t two or three people behind us. There was at least a dozen. Some of them had lengths of wood.

  Terror clogged my throat. There was no way out of this.

  We ran. It was hard. Hampered by the slickers. My skin was too hot, but my blood felt so so cold. Rain flew into my eyes, into my nose and mouth. It was hard to breathe through a throat that felt like it had tightened to closing, into lungs that had turned to ice. I’d had nightmares that had felt exactly like this.

  I followed Karish. I hoped he knew where he was going. He took corners like he knew. Or maybe it was all at random. What difference did it make? We had nowhere to go.

  Really, really, really had to learn something about weapons. Though even that might not have helped us out right then.

  Karish turned to look at me. Look ahead! Looking back slows you down.

  He looked at me. In the eye.

  That was all the warning I got. Then his Shields dropped.

  He was channeling! Idiot! Right, fine, this was the first natural disaster to hit us in months. Very exciting. But we weren’t on duty, and we were a little busy.

  A moment later I realized what he was doing. The forces were running the wrong way. Being pulled in to him, being stirred up, not rushing about us as they naturally did. It had been almost a year since I’d felt him manipulate the forces that way, but I knew what it meant.

  He wasn’t responding to a natural disaster. He was creating one.

  Was he insane?

  Were we in that much trouble?

  Wasn’t this a little drastic?

  He was insane. I was insane. The whole world had gone insane.

  Shield, shield, shield.

  The ground started to shake. I almost lost my footing. Karish fell into the wall next to him. I grabbed at him to pull him upright. My fingers slipped on his slicker.

  It was really hard to shield and run at the same time. The fact that the ground was shaking beneath my feet made it a real treat. So we stopped running. Our hunters had stopped running, too.

  He was pulling forces into himself. It felt random to me, like running through the streets had been, but I knew nothing about it. I held off the forces he didn’t touch, the forces he somehow knew not to touch, and stopped them from rushing into the vacuum Karish created within himself whenever he channelled. And through him I felt the raw power he could control with his mind and sheer strength of will.

  Sometimes I envied Karish so much, for what he could do, for his being able to feel the forces that moved the world. Did he have any idea how fortunate he was? Did he have the most remote inkling? And did he ever realize that I was almost sick with the longing to be able to do what he could do? What he had been born being able to do?

  I heard him chuckle. How could he be laughing? “What?” I demanded.

  “She’s fighting me.”

  “Huh?”

  “Kyna. She’s trying to channel the forces away from me.”

  “Does she know it’s you?”

  “No reason that she should.”

  Well, he had felt that it was Creol causing the disasters that had been threatening High Scape the year before. And he hadn’t told anyone, because it was supposed to be impossible, and he’d known no one would believe him. But what if Riley felt differently? What if she felt that Karish was responsible for this earthquake, and she started telling people? That was exactly what he was afraid of, wasn’t it?

  The stone beneath my feet shifted. Karish reached out to catch me, though I would have regained my balance on my own in a moment. “Don’t get too enthusiastic,” I warned him.

  “If I do it right, it might clear up the riot. Everyone will get scared and go home.”

  “One problem at a time, Taro.”

  He didn’t listen to me. Of course not.

  The forces roared on, going the wrong way. It was as though he were pulling them from the sky and directing them at the ground, where they churned up the soil and tore stones apart. And we were trying to channel and shield and keep our balance.

  And it was wrong. Unnatural. Not the way we were supposed to do things. It went against years of training.

  Yet it felt so good. Handling all that power, doing things with it no one else could do. Should I be worried? Afraid that I was liking this too much?

  Far beyond the earth moving and the leather of Karish’s slicker and the rain and Karish himself and the forces and my shields, I could feel Riley. Faint. Like looking at a person through fog, the fog I’d seen that morning. She was grabbing at the forces, pulling at them, trying to redirect them, and having no success with it.

  I spared a thought to how this was going to shatter her confidence. And she would never know the true reason why she’d failed.

  “Do something!”

  I heard the shout from somewhere. Off to the side.

  “Not too long,” I said to Karish. Good as it felt, it was tiring. And dangerous.

  “Just a bit longer.”

  What a mess. How had this happened? Creating a disaster to protect ourselves from our own people. It was crazy.

  A particularly violent buckle under my feet. That sent me to the ground. I hung on to my shields, though. Good for me.

  “Lee!”

  “I’m fine. Don’t fuss.”

  He slowed the forces down. Imposed his will on them, clamped it around them, pulled them away from the ground. And then he let them go. They screamed back into their natural courses. Karish allowed his internal shields to slip back into place. The ground settled down. It was over.

  I scrambled to my feet and we started running, just in case. No one chased us, and after a few streets we had to slow down, but we didn’t stop running.

  I peeled off to head towards the Lion. It was the only place I could think of to go. Karish followed.

  We met no one on the way. Good. I didn’t think I could deal with people. We ran into the Lion. Karish slammed the door shut. People inside, somehow ignorant of the chaos happening only a short distance away, stared at us. We ignored them.

  It was silent inside the Lion. While before my mind had felt bombarded by all the noise and activity, now it was so quiet it made my ears hurt.

  I bent over, my hands on my knees, and tried to breathe into painful lungs and settle the sharp stitch in my side.

  Karish pulled his slicker off, then helped me out of mine, draping them both over a nearby chair. Then he grabbed my arm and pulled me into a tight embrace.

  He was shaking. I didn’t ask him why, if it was a reaction to what had happened outside or if he found the boarding house too cool. Possibly he was hoping I wouldn’t notice.

  I pressed my cheek against his chest. He felt good. Healthy and alive and solid. I felt my muscles relaxing, the tension draining from my shoulders. How strange it was, even though that was what was supposed to happen. He was like some kind of medication, soothing and warm.

  He soon stopped trembling. Poor excitable boy.

  “You’re right, Lee.”

  “Aren’t I always?” I quipped. “Tell me about what, in particular, this time, so I might gloat.” At least I could get out a coherent sentence. Good sign.

  He chuckled, a weak sound. “We have to do something about all this.”

  Finally. “Well, we’re trying.”

  “Aye, but I’ve been dragging my feet,” he confessed. “I didn’t think there was anything we could do. Or, if we could, whether we should.”

  I pulled away enough to look him in the face. “Why shouldn’t we?”

  He cocked his head to one side, a slow considering gesture. “It’s dangerous, what we’re thinking of doing,” he said. “Manipulating the forces in ways we weren’t trained to. That sort of thing, it can have serious repercussions. Dangerous repercussions.” He bit his lower lip, something I’d never seen him do before. “I started an earthquake today.”

  “You’ve done it before.”

  “Aye, but at the time I thought I’d
never have to do it again. But I have, and I have no idea how much damage I’ve done. I might have destroyed things. Homes. I might have hurt people.” He swallowed. “What if I’ve killed someone?” he asked in a whisper.

  I didn’t think that was likely. The earthquake hadn’t been that severe. Still, I could appreciate what he was saying. Drawing outside the lines could have frightening consequences. But I didn’t know what else we could do. We had to do something. If for no other reason than that the residents of High Scape weren’t going to let us do nothing.

  Chapter Eleven

  The exterior of the house was in pretty bad shape. Every window smashed, the doors ripped off their hinges, and chunks of the siding chopped out. The interior was a mess, with dishes and decorations smashed, tar splashed around here and there, drapes and clothes slashed and torn. The building was still structurally sound, meaning we didn’t have to move out, and there were a couple of Runners wandering around nearby, so no more damage would be done. It didn’t make me feel any better.

  Everyone was shocked by the riot, including, we were told, the people who participated in it. No one knew how it had started, or why. It just happened.

  Contributors to the newspaper decried the action as a disgusting descent into violence. Still, one could, apparently, understand the motivation. After all, people’s lives were being destroyed, and we were doing nothing. I didn’t see that as a reason to start destroying property, but it seemed that I was in the minority.

  Six of the seven Pairs stood in the common room, just looking at the mess. Riley actually had enough initiative to make some tentative swipes at cleaning up. I couldn’t make myself help. I was too shocked. And unnerved. And a little angry.

  They had caused the damage. Let them clean it up.

  Only I didn’t want them coming back into my home.

  When Karish stood behind me and slipped his arms around my waist and pulled me into him, it was comforting.

  “Oh, for Zaire’s sake, find a room!” Beatrice snapped at us.

  “Aye, the honeymoon should be long over,” Ladin added.

  Karish’s only answer was to rest his chin on the top of my head. I wasn’t in the mood, myself, to worry about appearances. I was soothed by Karish’s proximity.

  “This is bad,” Wilberforce said, pacing by the wreckage. “This has to be illegal.”

  Garrighan looked at him with an expression of disbelief mixed with disdain. “Of course it’s illegal,” he sneered. “They destroyed a building.”

  Wilberforce, as always, was resilient to the contempt of the other. “Yes, but this is a Triple S building. Surely that deserves a harsher punishment.”

  What an odd thing to say. Why should our buildings be treated with any more reverence than any other? Did Wilberforce spread that kind of attitude around? No wonder the regulars hated us.

  Besides, they paid for it. One could almost say they owned it, and had the right to tear it down if they wished.

  “I think they did us a favor, personally,” said Sabatos, nudging a stray board with the toe of his boot. “Wasn’t exactly a palace.”

  “We need it repaired, though,” said Riley.

  Sabatos shrugged. “So they repair it.”

  “‘They’ being regulars,” Garrighan reminded him. “Who aren’t exactly enchanted with us right now. Don’t know if I would want to be spending a lot of time in something they built especially for us.”

  Wilberforce halted his pacing to give Garrighan a condescending look. “They wouldn’t dare build a defective house for us.”

  “Uh, considering they tore the first one apart, genius, it’s not outside the realm of possibility.”

  Wilberforce chose not to respond to that. I would have respected him for his maturity if I weren’t convinced it were more a case of him not being able to think of anything cutting to say.

  “I am thinking the ‘we’re working on it’ approach isn’t endearing us to the regulars.” Riley picked up a piece of paper, trying and failing to uncrumple it without tearing it.

  “Toast to you, Mallorough, you saw that one a mile coming.” Garrighan raised his hand in a gesture that I supposed was meant to be celebratory.

  Wilberforce was predictably outraged. “Triple S fully supported our telling the regulars what we did.”

  That wasn’t the story I’d heard. Not that they’d said no. Just that they hadn’t responded yet.

  “Doesn’t make it any more of an intelligent idea,” said Garrighan.

  “I certainly don’t remember hearing you say anything like that when Chris first came up with the idea. To his face. When he was present.” Wilberforce crossed his arms, his tone snide and challenging.

  “Didn’t have to. Mallorough already was.”

  Well, it would have been nice to have some support then. Though I doubted Garrighan throwing in his lot with me would have been enough to change anyone’s mind. Garrighan was known for highlighting the dark side of any situation, and I suspected it was usually just for the sake of being contrary.

  “And I didn’t have a better idea,” he continued. “I try not to criticize when I don’t have any constructive suggestions.”

  Rayne looked at Garrighan like she’d never seen her Shield before. “You what?” she demanded.

  “Do you have any suggestions now?” Wilberforce challenged him.

  Garrighan wasn’t intimidated. “Fresh out,” he admitted.

  I had one, but no one wanted to hear it.

  “Well, we’ve got to do something.” Riley dropped the balled up paper and brushed off her hands. “I think a lynching party is the next logical step.”

  Wilberforce gasped. “They wouldn’t dare!”

  “Not usually, no,” said Rayne. “But they’re not themselves right now.”

  “They’re all very anxious about what’s going to happen next,” Sabatos agreed.

  “No, it’s more than that. Lauren and I have been at sites before, when they were going through hard times. This is something else.”

  “Like what?”

  Rayne shrugged. “I don’t know. It just is.”

  Well, wasn’t that lovely?

  “We could leave,” said Beatrice, who practically squirmed when we all looked at him. “Well, if our lives are in danger . . .”

  “We can’t leave our post,” Garrighan stated.

  “Especially after that last earthquake,” said Riley. “That was brutal.”

  Karish’s arms tightened around me.

  “Yes, dear, we all felt that one,” Firth said. She sounded sort of sympathetic, and sort of annoyed, as though she had been personally inconvenienced.

  “I told you, it was strange,” Riley insisted. An argument had been brewing, perhaps. “I’ve never felt an earthquake like it. When I was channeling, it felt like it was fighting me.”

  Garrighan snorted. “Fighting you. Takes a mind to fight.”

  I felt awful, standing there knowing we had caused that damage, knowing Riley was doubting herself, that there was tension there that didn’t need to be there. Wasn’t going to say anything, though.

  Neither was Karish.

  “So what are we going to do?” Riley asked.

  I could give them an idea of where to start. And Karish knew I was tempted. I could feel his arms tightening around my waist in warning.

  He needn’t have bothered. I was tempted, yes, but I was also reluctant to let the others know, at this stage, that I suspected we could affect the weather. First of all, I wasn’t sure that we could. Had I caused that rainstorm? I really didn’t know. But I was pretty sure I’d done something. And once I let that knowledge loose, I’d lose all control of it, and there was no telling what the others would do with it.

  Was it arrogant for me to believe I could take better care of this ability than any other Shield? Undoubtedly. But I’d seen other people do awfully stupid things. I couldn’t quite trust them.

  Besides, they probably wouldn’t believe me.

  Karish and I w
ere on our own.

  They’d never taught me anything about this at the Academy.

  Chapter Twelve

  It was unacceptable, just flat out not allowed, for a Shield to be nervous. Just no excuse for it. Fear was fine, given acceptable circumstances. Love, as long as it didn’t turn into obsession or possessiveness, was always to be encouraged. Hatred, while not actually condoned, could sometimes be forgiven, provided one didn’t allow it to poison one’s thinking.

  But there was no excuse for nervousness. A person was nervous due to an exaggerated sense of anticipation of an event that was in no way life threatening. It did not provide one with a sense of determination or a source of strength. It was groundless, it was debilitating, it served no useful purpose and there was no reason for it.

  So breathe in, long, slow—no, damn it, no hitches! Start again. Let it all out in a quick huff and then slowly pull it back in: slow, smooth, there, that’s better.

  So Her Grace the Dowager Duchess of Westsea was an unpleasant woman. That couldn’t hurt me. I wasn’t a debutant or an aristocrat of uncertain origins or anyone else clambering for the recognition and acceptance of the loftiest circles. What the woman said would have no effect on me. There was no reason for me to feel nervous. As there never was.

  Long smooth breath, and then a slight touch up on the eye paint. Long languid dark lines that gave my eyes a nice catlike tilt and made them look a strange pale green. I’d been told more than once that the effect was odd but striking. That seemed like a good combination to me.

  It was Karish I was really nervous for, not me. He just got so unbelievably tense when he spoke about his mother. This evening was going to be sheer hell for him, I had no doubt. I don’t think my mother really understood that, else she wouldn’t have arranged the dinner. And I didn’t blame her for that. I’d had no real idea how bad it was going to be for Karish, either. It was only his behavior over the last couple of days that had me thinking this was really a very, very bad idea.

  But the plans had all been made, and there was no backing out of it. We could only make the best of it. I was going to be calm. I was going to be gracious. No matter what that woman said or did, I would be the archetype of elegant courtesy. I owed that to Karish.

 

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