When everyone seemed ready, Radia called, “Begin.”
James charged at Fiona, his hands held in fists up near his head. He swung at her face. She blocked James’s right arm with her left and shoved the heel of her hand into his nose in an upward motion. He wheeled away, and a few instants later there was blood pouring from his nose.
I would have thought that would be the end of it, but James seemed to shake it off and came back swinging. Right and left and right again, Fiona dodging each blow. I noticed that they fought very differently. James relied solely on his fists, it seemed, while Fiona seemed to move her body more fluidly, moving her feet more.
Fiona was caught off guard when James aimed for her stomach. That blow landed hard and solid, and Fiona curled over. James brought up his knee to smash Fiona’s face with it, but she seemed to collapse before his knee could reach its target.
Fiona fell to the ground and rolled right to the other edge of the circle, James stepping after and attempting to kick her. He looked very awkward as he moved, and he seemed to be experiencing some difficulty with his balance.
Fiona stopped rolling just short of the rods. Passing over the rods would have lost her the fight. She grabbed onto one of James’s legs and drove her thumb into the back of his knee. He fell with a shout and Fiona scrambled to her feet. Once up, she kicked James in the face.
She knelt, pushing at James to try to roll him over the rods. Before she could accomplish this, James grabbed one of her hands and I could hear the snap as one of her fingers went back.
I glanced at Dane. He was frowning in concentration. He didn’t appear at all frightened. I looked at the Dowager. She looked angry. I supposed she’d expected it to go faster.
James wrapped his arms around Fiona’s neck and was trying to roll her over him and over the rods. She dug her knees into his back and made herself impossible to shift. She struck out ineffectually a few times, her arms obstructed by James’s hold around her neck. She slid her head down a little and bit, hard. James’s arm jerked and Fiona reached around to grab at his face, sinking her nails into his cheek. That made him jerk again, and Fiona wiggled up and away.
She sank a knee into his stomach. She clenched her two hands together and pounded them into James’s face. He pushed her off. She dug her heels into his side and pushed.
James rolled out of the circle.
He scrambled to his feet and charged at Fiona again. Fiona backed up.
“Hold!” Radia shouted. James kept going. “I said hold!”
James stumbled to a stop.
“The retest is complete. The titleholder retains the title.”
Fiona spent a moment to straighten her dirt-streaked shift. “Now that this nonsense is finished,” she said coolly, “I invite you all to partake of the refreshments laid out in the garden and use the remainder of this day for its intended purpose: honoring the lives of those who have been lost.”
I looked at the Dowager. Her expression revealed no knowledge that she was the target of Fiona’s chastisement. She just looked angry. Her plan hadn’t worked. And so she had no use for anyone present. She turned and left, her servants following.
The residents noticed the hasty departure, and there were a few grumbles of disapproval. Ha. Maybe they realized they’d been used. Maybe they would wonder if they really wanted a Karish as a titleholder after all, if she was any example of how they behaved.
Healer Browne ignored James and headed to Fiona, intent on seeing to what I guessed was a broken finger. “We don’t have time for that now, Healer,” I heard Fiona say. “There is the rest of the mourning.”
“I can see to that,” Dane objected.
“It is my task and I will perform it,” Fiona insisted, accepting help from Frances to step back into her gown.
“Fiona—”
“Leave it.”
I was embarrassed. I hated hearing people argue. I looked away.
And saw two people walking from around the manor. They were heading toward the group of us. At first, I thought they were more tenants, but I couldn’t imagine any of the residents being late for the funeral.
People began drifting toward the gardens and the refreshments. I drifted with them, keeping an eye on the approaching couple. In a few moments, I saw piercing white against the left shoulder of one. A Shield.
A replacement Pair? I felt a spurt of excitement. I wouldn’t mind that at all. It would be the solution to all our problems.
“Taro,” I said, gesturing at the two.
He squinted at them. “Are they coming to assume the post?”
It was good to see we were in the same place on that topic.
“I hope not,” said Fiona, who had apparently chosen to hover near. “You just got here.”
We waited, and the forms took on more detail. The Shield was an older man, bald and slim. His Source seemed a bit younger, dark haired with a full beard, and stockier. They were no one that I knew.
“Source Karish and Shield Mallorough?” the Shield asked once they were in comfortable speaking range.
“Aye,” I said.
“This is Source Evro Pedulla. I am Shield Neil Kaagen. We’re on the Triple S council.”
I practically felt Taro freeze beside me. I resisted the urge to touch him. “I see.” I should have said it was a pleasure to meet them, but I was too sure it wouldn’t be.
“We have some questions to ask you,” said Kaagen.
“And you came all the way out here to ask them?” I said.
“We could hardly have you come to us. You’re the only Pair here.”
That wasn’t what I’d meant. The situation had to be pretty serious if they felt the questions couldn’t be addressed through correspondence.
Of course, I hadn’t yet responded to their last piece of correspondence, but surely that didn’t warrant their coming out.
“We didn’t pass anything that looked like a tavern nearby,” Kaagen said. “Could you recommend a place for us?”
“You can stay with us,” Fiona interjected. Her manor was getting fuller by the moment. Surely she was going to run out of rooms soon. And, of course, there were taverns in the village. Either they didn’t look hard enough or they wanted to be on top of us.
Why did she invite them in? I didn’t want them close and comfortable. I wanted them distant and uncomfortable.
“Thank you, ma’am,” said the Shield. “That’s most generous.”
“I am Lady Westsea. This is my husband, Lord Westsea. Our entire household is engaged in a solemn duty. If you will join us, we will see to your needs as soon as our obligations are met.”
The abundance of purple worn by everyone would have alerted the Pair to the nature of our gathering. “It will be an honor to participate,” said the Shield.
In Fiona’s garden, food and drink were consumed. Stories were told and songs were sung. People roared with laughter and screamed with anger and grief. And through it all, I was distracted.
Members of the Triple S had come to talk to us. That just couldn’t be good.
Chapter Nineteen
That night in the dining room, the council Pair joined us for supper and some painfully polite conversation. They didn’t speak of why they were there, despite some subtle probing. Or Fiona asking them straight out. They said only that it was Triple S business.
That didn’t stop Reid from peppering them with questions about all sorts of aspects of Triple S life and the council in particular. The Pair evaded the questions more often than they answered. I had behaved in a similar manner in the past, and had been much less dexterous about it, yet I found it embarrassing that they weren’t more forthcoming. Perhaps because Reid was so eager for information, and so clearly knew he was being given the brush-off.
After supper, Fiona and her family and all the servants collected in the ballroom to sing. Taro and I joined them, though neither of us knew the songs being sung. The songs were not mournful. Neither were they joyous. If anything, they sounded like lullabies. Reassuring, promising that all was well, it was all right to close one’s eyes. Everything was fine.
While not mournful, the music still made me want to cry. I managed to avoid it, barely, by blinking a lot. No one noticed, not even Taro, and for that I was grateful.
And the music distracted me from thoughts about the Triple S council. I lay in bed that night, and instead of twisting myself into a knot worrying about why Kaagen and Pedulla were there, I heard the songs run again and again in my head. I was lulled into sleep, which meant I was refreshed in the morning, all the better to deal with what was sure to be a very stressful day.
At breakfast the next morning, Shield Kaagen said to me, “Lady Westsea has given us permission to use her library while we discuss matters.”
“While you and I,” said Source Pedulla to Taro, “will be using the music room.”
“How appropriate, my dear,” said Taro. “Did I tell you, I can’t tell one note from another? Did you want me to play something for you?”
Pedulla looked confused. I could sympathize with him.
They were going to speak with us—no, let’s call it what it was: interrogate us—in separate rooms. That couldn’t be good. What did they suspect us of?
I noticed Kaagen had notes.
We sat at the largest table in the library so Kaagen could sit far away from me and I couldn’t see what was written on his paperwork. He took out from his bag a quill and an inkpot, and he started writing immediately. “Tell me, when was the first time you heard about Source Karish?”
“The first time?” I hadn’t been expecting that. I’d been expecting questions about how well Taro was handling the events taking place in his birthplace.
“I assume your Matching wasn’t the first time you heard his name.”
“No, I heard about him while I was still attending classes.”
“When?”
“I don’t remember.” Not exactly. He was seven years older than I, and he had begun his training outside the Academy when he was sixteen and I was nine. I didn’t imagine I would have heard anything of him before then. I didn’t know how much more I could narrow that down.
“Try.”
I shook my head. “I can only say that I was aware of him in at least my last two years at the Academy. I think.”
He wrote something down. “And what sort of things did you hear of him?”
“That he was an excellent Source.”
“What else?”
That he would sleep with anything on two legs, but I wasn’t going to admit that. “That he was a lord.”
“What else?”
“I really don’t remember.”
“You must remember more.”
Why must I? “It was years ago. I had no idea he was going to be my Source. I had no reason to think about him or pay any particular attention to the stories about him.” Sometimes I wished I could go back to that state, where I didn’t think about him all the time. I loved him, but I really wished he wasn’t the center of all my thoughts so incessantly. It seemed unbalanced.
“So there were stories about him.”
“Yes, some.”
“You just don’t remember them.”
“Correct.”
“You said you heard he was an excellent Source.”
“Yes.”
“What made him an excellent Source?”
“He could channel very powerful events. He felt them early and channeled them quickly.” He was handsome and entertaining and enjoyed a good time.
“What else?”
“What else is there?” No, no. I shouldn’t have said that. It sounded challenging and defensive. Like I had something to hide.
“You tell me.”
“That’s all I remember.”
More scribbling. “And when you met him, what did you think of him?”
“That he was very sophisticated.” And condescending and a little smarmy. Sometime I would have to ask him if he had been nervous that night.
“And?”
And? “He was polite and friendly.”
“Anything else?”
“Not that I can recall.”
“Your Matching is not a day that stands out in your memory?”
Sarcastic prat. “It does.”
“Yet all you can remember thinking about Source Shintaro Karish was that he was”—Kaagen referred to his notes—“sophisticated, polite and friendly.”
“And handsome.” There, that was four things.
“Anything else?”
“No, that’s all.”
“Are you sure? After all, it took a few moments for you to remember you thought he was handsome.”
I would not glare at him, no matter how much he deserved it. I would be the epitome of the serene Shield. “I’m afraid that’s all.” What good would it do anyone to tell him I’d been disappointed to be chosen by Taro? That I’d had my eye on another Source with a reputation for being serious and calm? What did any of this have to do with anything?
“How did you get along with him in the first few days you were bonded?”
I didn’t want to talk about that. I’d been a perfect bitch to him for the first few weeks of our relationship. It was hard enough to admit that to myself. I didn’t want to discuss it with anyone else. “It was an adjustment.”
“Can you elaborate?”
No. “We had to get to know each other. There was a lot of talking”—that wasn’t true—“and some arguing”—that was true—“but it didn’t take long to settle into a smooth working relationship.” That was kind of true.
“Tell me about the first time the two of you channeled, or don’t you remember that?”
Whether he believed it or not, I had to think about it. “We were in a tiny settlement. A cold one. It was a cyclone.”
“And Source Karish channeled it.”
“Yes.”
“Was there anything unusual about the way he channeled?”
“Not at all.” The only matter of note was that I’d been able to Shield him so well after such a short acquaintance.
“The event was channeled successfully?”
“Of course.” I would have reported it if it wasn’t.
“Had there ever, in your relationship, been an event that Source Karish couldn’t channel?”