It was something I usually enjoyed doing. It was a wonderful stretch of mind and concentration, to feel what Taro was doing and make sure he was protected while he did it. I had trained most of my life to do this, and I knew I was fortunate to be able to do it for someone as worthy as Taro. As there were more Shields than Sources born, I was aware that there were many Shields who never got bonded and therefore were never able to Shield. And there were some Shields bonded to unworthy Sources who dragged them down into infamy with them.
I liked the challenge of Shielding, but of late most of the events we channeled were unusual in nature. It looked like this one would be the same, for all of a sudden the forces started rushing through Taro at a faster pace, and faster again. His blood started pumping harder, his mind working more intensely. This wasn’t good. “Slow down, Taro!”
“I can’t!” he snapped.
Images started slamming into the back of my mind, images I had seen before. Waves crashing into high, dark cliffs. The images brought other impressions. Salt water filling my mouth and stinging my nose. The screeching of seabirds piercing my ears.
No, not again.
It was going too fast, too fast. My Shields felt like they were stretching. “Slow down!”
There was no reaction from Taro. Maybe he hadn’t heard me. Usually we could speak while channeling, but I wouldn’t be surprised if all of Taro’s attention was on the forces. Mine should be, too. I felt like I was holding his moist beating heart in my hands and trying to stop it from beating so hard. I felt like I couldn’t breathe without dragging in pounds of salt.
I thought my Shields might start to burst apart at any moment.
And then I felt trembling. Actual physical trembling. It wasn’t me. It was happening around us. Were we letting the earthquake through? “Do you feel that?” I demanded.
“Aye,” said Taro.
“We have to do something.”
“I’m open to suggestion.”
The trembling continued. It didn’t get to be very strong, just causing rattling of the wall hangings.
And then, suddenly, it was over. Thank Zaire. I was exhausted and drenched with sweat. I was about to rub at my face, but I stopped and looked for blood on my hands. That was foolish. It wasn’t as though I had been literally holding Taro’s heart in my hands.
“Hell,” Taro said weakly. “What was that?”
“That was the same kind of channeling you were doing at the end of our stay in High Scape.”
He shook his head. “It never felt anything like that.”
It felt the same to me.
Lila walked in. Again, without knocking. Really, was that normal?
I expected her to make some comment about the tremors, but the first words out of her mouth were, “Her Grace, the Dowager Duchess of Westsea, is here.”
Ah, damn it. I knew I shouldn’t have spoken of her out loud.
“Are sir and ma’am receiving?”
“No,” Taro said shortly.
“Of course they are,” the Dowager Duchess said, sailing in. Which meant she hadn’t bothered to wait wherever she had been told to wait.
There was no mistaking that the Dowager Duchess was Taro’s mother. She was small and fine-boned, with black hair untouched by gray, and black, slightly narrowed eyes. However, aside from appearance, the two were nothing alike. Thank Zaire. The Dowager was just too poisonous to bear. I would have been miserable dealing with that kind of personality on a regular basis.
I hated that woman. More than I’d ever hated anyone. Including the crazy Source who’d had Taro abducted and had threatened to kill us. We were strangers to him, while the Dowager Duchess enjoyed tearing strips off her own son.
I was pretty sure Taro hated her, too. He didn’t rise from his chair as he normally would when someone entered the room. “You’re not welcome here,” he told her.
“Don’t be ridiculous. This was my home longer than it was yours.” Cold black eyes racked over my form. “Shield Mallorough, you’re looking terrible, as usual.”
“And your manner sets an example for us all,” I shot back. If Taro had loved her or sought her respect, I would have been polite to the woman no matter what she did. But he didn’t, and previous attempts to keep to the high road had been disastrous. So I said whatever I felt like, knowing though I did that the Dowager could be far more insulting than I.
“Shall I fetch some refreshments, sir?” the maid asked Taro.
“No, she’s not staying.”
“Tea would be appropriate,” the Dowager countered.
“Lila,” Taro said firmly. “None of us require anything. Please stay close so you can see the Dowager out in a few moments.”
Lila curtsied and withdrew to the sitting room. I would have preferred she leave altogether. She was going to witness some nasty behavior.
“I thought you were supposed to stop the earthquakes,” the Dowager commented.
“I drained away most of its power.”
“I understand we’re not supposed to feel anything.”
“We just got here. It takes time to adjust.”
“Let us hope we all survive your period of adjustment.”
Seriously, shut up.
“It’s appalling that I had to learn of your transfer from the servants,” the Dowager said. “And of your arrival last night.”
Who in this household was running off to tattle to the Dowager?
“You eat what you cook,” Taro muttered.
“None of your nonsense mumblings at me, Shintaro,” the Dowager snapped. “It is hopelessly ill-mannered.”
It was said that Sources couldn’t help sometimes expressing their thoughts oddly. It was just the way their minds worked. Apparently the Dowager had never accepted that. I couldn’t understand why. Even though she clearly didn’t like the fact that her son was a Source, what was the point in denying that he was one, and all the things that went with that? What did she hope to accomplish?
I wondered if she ever regretted locking Taro away all those years. Did she have it within her to admit, if only to herself, that she had made a mistake? Perhaps that was why she treated him so badly. He reminded her of her errors.
“What do you want?” Taro demanded.
“Are you not going to offer me a seat?”
“No.”
She sat down anyway. “Do grow up, Shintaro.”
Telling another adult to grow up was one of the most obnoxious things a person could say. In my opinion, the people who said such things were those suffering from the greatest lack of maturity.
“I have work to do, Your Grace, which is something you would know nothing about. A transfer means a lot of paperwork. Say what you came to say.”
“You think I know nothing of responsibilities? Who do you think managed this estate before your brother?”
“My father.”
“Sometimes, my dear boy, you are so delightfully naive.” She nodded at me. “Send your little friend away.”
“This is Dunleavy’s room. If anyone is going to leave, it’s going to be you.”
“Actually, I don’t mind—” I really had no problem with leaving, I had no interest in what the Dowager had to say, but before I could get the words out, Taro shot me a filthy glare. So I sat down.
“You’re always so melodramatic, Shintaro.” His mother sighed. “I merely wished to inform you of all that has been going on in Flown Raven.”
“Fiona has been keeping me informed.”
“I have no doubt she has been. And that’s part of the problem. She hasn’t exactly been fitting in here. Has she told you that?”
“She has said everything is going well and that the only flaw in her ice is you.”
“I don’t doubt that is the way she feels. She thought she could fly into the ancient seat, having never been here, and order everyone about with no understanding of their character and no willingness to learn from those of us with years of experience.”
“Your Grace, with the way you treat people, a drowning man wouldn’t take a rope from you.”
“Such a man would be an idiot, wouldn’t he?”
Aye, he would be. I had to give her that. Good advice should be considered no matter what the source.
Was Fiona the sort to blunder around blindly in a new place? I had no idea. She had struck me as sensible, but I barely knew her.
I knew the Dowager only slightly more, but she had never struck me as particularly intelligent. She was just mean. And I would wager she never bothered to learn about people before ordering them about. She’d certainly never bothered to learn anything about me.
She probably resented Fiona because the current Duchess wouldn’t let the Dowager walk all over her.
“Fiona is not as well liked as she might have led you to believe,” the Dowager went on with a certain banked glee. “The people here don’t take to strangers. They’re used to having our family hold the title, and Fiona is disturbing all of them, but she ignores their concerns. It is more than two years that she has been here, but she’s not finding her feet and the people are suffering for it.”
“Even if that were true,” said Taro, “it has nothing to do with me. I’m just the Source posted here. Politics and money are none of my business.”
“It’s so embarrassing that my one remaining child is so ignorant,” the Dowager said, her exasperation clear. “You haven’t been just a Source since your brother died. That you seduced the Empress into allowing you to abjure your title won’t change the fact that you should be holding this duchy and protecting the interests of these people. It’s what you were born to do.”
“It was not,” Taro retorted. “Nor was it what I was raised to do. You made sure of that.”
“Stop being so childish.”
Could she just stop with the insults? I wasn’t comfortable with how badly I wanted to slap her.
“No,” was all Taro said.
She sniffed. “As I was saying, Fiona has not won the trust or respect of the people, and she has offended His Imperial Majesty greatly.”
“He was demanding taxes he had no right to ask for.”
“Others were more politically astute and met his demands, and they are now the better for it. Sometimes insisting on one’s rights is not wise. She still had to pay the taxes after the coronation, plus a few extra fines for annoying His Majesty. What did she accomplish?”
“Pride in knowing she won’t be bullied?” Taro suggested.
“There is no pride to be felt in stupidity,” she informed him.
I was kind of curious as to whether the Dowager had given way to the demands of another. Her husband, perhaps. Maybe she was so bitter because she had suffered some poor treatment in the past.
I felt no compassion for her if she had. Did that make me a bad person?
Lila walked back into the room and dropped into a curtsy. “Forgive me, Your Grace, sir, madam. There are four of His Majesty’s Imperial Guard here. They wish everyone in the manor to gather in the ballroom.”
Well, that was unexpected. Imperial Guards. The Imperial Guards were the protectors of the Emperor and sometimes the enforcers of his laws. I could think of no reason why they would be here in Flown Raven, but it probably wasn’t anything good.
Then again, maybe it was good. I had no way of knowing. Sometimes I was just too pessimistic.
“What do they want?” Taro asked.
“I don’t believe they’ve said, yet. They’ve only just arrived.”
“And they want to see us all right now?”
“Yes, sir.”
Well, at least it cut short our painful visit with the Dowager.
“You may escort me down, Shintaro,” said the Dowager.
“I’m sure you can find your own way down,” said Taro. “After all, you’ve lived here much longer than I have.” He held out his hand to me, I took it, and we headed down to the ballroom.
Fiona and her family were already there, and more servants were coming in all the time. Taro and I stayed in the back of the crowd, hopefully out of sight of the four Imperial Guards at the front, resplendent in their bronze armor and red capes.
A few moments later, Fiona said something to one of the Guards, and he nodded. “Everyone,” he called out in a strong voice. “I am First Lieutenant Corvis. This is First Sergeant Evanov, Second Sergeant Haasen and Corporal Oteroy. We are here by order of His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Gifford.”
Hells, what did he want now?
“As you may be aware, there is, springing within normally sensible people, a belief that spells and casting are real, that by mixing the right ingredients and speaking the right words unnatural things can be made to happen. As you might not be aware, there have been disastrous consequences to these attempts to cast spells. A fire was started in Silver River, destroying dozens of houses and killing eight people. Wells all over Slight Peaks were poisoned, resulting in twelve more deaths. People in High Scape were murdered by those wishing to have their ashes for use in their spells. And every day, more examples of death and ruin come to His Majesty’s ears. He has decided he can no longer delay stamping out these erroneous beliefs.”
I wondered if First Lieutenant Corvis knew that the Emperor actually believed in the power of spells, and used them himself.
“The Emperor has heard many disturbing rumors about Flown Raven and Westsea. Rumors that the pretense of casting spells is prevalent, that it arises in nearly every family and is condoned by your titleholder.” The Guard sent a look of rebuke Fiona’s way. “I take this opportunity to remind you all that pretending to cast spells is illegal, and carries with it harsh sanctions. We have been given the authority to carry out those sanctions against anyone found in possession of the tools of casting.”
“Enforcing His Majesty’s laws in Westsea is my responsibility,” Fiona objected.
“There will be no interference with your duties in any other area, but we will be dealing with all offenders of the casting laws.”
This had the potential to be a nightmare. If the people resented Fiona as an outsider, how would they feel about these Guards from the other side of the continent poking their noses in and asking questions?