Heroes at Odds

by Moira J. Moore

  Hester came in with the morning tray.

  “Good morning,” I greeted her. I felt fabulous. “Is it a good morning for you? How early did you have to get up?”

  She didn’t answer me. She just looked at me, her eyes kind of wide. That was rude.

  “Because I was just thinking—I do that a lot, you know, thinking, though that always seems to get me in trouble, because I always seem to think about the wrong things—that you’re here to wake us up, so when did you—no, wait, you don’t always bring us the tray. How do you decide when to do that?”

  Instead of answering, she silently backed out of the room, closing the door behind her.

  “Now that’s really rude.”

  I smelled coffee on the tray. A headache just exploded into my skull, and my throat became painfully dry. The nausea created by the headache made it difficult to drink the water, and the water didn’t seem to help my throat at all. I felt disgusting.

  Suddenly, it felt like every particle of strength I had just rushed out of me. I kind of collapsed into a chair. “Whoa.” The room was tilting, and I had the most foul taste in my mouth.

  All right, this wasn’t good. In fact, it was pretty nasty. How could Browne go through this on a regular basis?

  “Ready to be sensible?” Taro drawled.

  “Ready to sleep.” If I could. My skull was pierced with pain. I pressed the sides of my head with my palms. “My gods.”

  Taro stood beside me and put his hand on my shoulder. The pain flowed away. Oh, thank Zaire. “So you’re not going to take that dross again.”

  The thought of having any more of the powder made my stomach slosh unpleasantly. “Just tonight, to get the rock up. Then never again, I promise.”

  “You didn’t see yourself, Lee. You were like a crazy person. And your eyes, they couldn’t settle anywhere. And it was like the air around you was crackling. It wasn’t right.”

  “One more time.”

  “The rock isn’t your responsibility.”

  “You would do the same, if you could.”

  “No, I wouldn’t.”

  “Liar.”

  “All right,” he conceded. “But this involves my family.”

  “Exactly. They’re your family.” That couldn’t be difficult for him to understand. After all, he was jumping through hoops because of the mess my family had created.

  He frowned. “I don’t like you doing this.”

  “I don’t like doing it, either. This is not fun.” Actually, working with the rock had been fantastic. Anything after that had been alarming. And weird.

  Though I still felt that, under the influence of the kyrra, I could channel without the spell. I wondered if it were possible to create a powder that was slightly less powerful, but had none of the side effects. On the other hand, I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of taking a drug in order to perform my duties. It disturbed me as using a spell did not. That didn’t make any sense. “Just one more time.”

  Taro clearly didn’t approve. I waited for further argument. Instead, he said, “Will you sleep now?”

  “Will you lie with me? I have a vicious headache.”

  “I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep.”

  It took me a little longer to fall asleep than I’d expected. I was tired, but my mind was still circulating a little too quickly. Taro didn’t move, and his proximity was reassuring and comforting.

  I opened my eyes and couldn’t quite decide whether I’d actually slept or not. It was late afternoon. Taro was gone. My mouth tasted putrid. I felt loose and tired as I left the bed to get some water. Normally, I was craving coffee as soon as I woke, at any time, but the thought of drinking any made my stomach curl in protest. I drank some water, splashed some more on my face, and changed my clothes.

  I spent the whole day in my room, staring into space, feeling too vile to do anything. No one came to bother me. I suspected Taro had something to do with that.

  I was just about feeling normal when it was time to head back out. I joined Radia, who was being assisted by two tall and broad-shouldered men introduced to me as Shipwright Neil Vejajiv, who was wearing a leather bag over one shoulder, and Sawyer Olan Ridden. Despite their size and strength, they didn’t carry Radia but supported her while she kind of walked between them. It was awkward and slow, and Radia was sweating and keeping any vocalizations of discomfort behind tightly clenched teeth.

  Getting through the small twisting path that breached the high stone ridge behind the manor was particularly challenging, as Radia and the two men couldn’t walk through three across. Then the rocky shore on the other side of the ridge caused slippage under everyone’s feet.

  Everyone else from the circle was at the arch, as well as a few other men I didn’t recognize. Everyone greeted the Wind Watcher with respect. There was a folding chair set up a short distance away. The shipwright and the sawyer helped Radia settle into it.

  Four men climbed up the arch with a lot of slipping and quick grasps for purchase and balance. No one was used to doing this, and that was alarming.

  The chains meant to hold up the rock were enormous. Used for ships, I’d been told. From the looks of it, the way the men handled them, they were damn heavy. I really couldn’t imagine how the men would be able to maneuver them in order to hang the rock, but that part of the process was not my responsibility.

  Browne handed out the kyrra powder. It seemed to me that everyone was even less enthusiastic about licking their palms than they had been the night before. All I could think about was the headache I was going to have the next morning.

  And that wasn’t what I should be thinking about. I had a task to perform. I licked the powder off my palm.

  This time I was ready for the effects, and perhaps that was why they didn’t seem to overwhelm me to the same extent. The clarity of mind felt a little more natural. I looked at the rock, and I could be aware of other forces in my environment without being distracted by them.

  And when we started to sing, I could keep the words clear in my mind and direct them with the proper pressure. As the rock lifted, I almost felt like I was touching it with my mind. A sensation that was just plain weird.

  However, the hard part was not, at that point, lifting the rock, but holding it close enough to the top of the arch to be reached by the chains, yet not so close that the men on the arch lacked the room to work. Holding it in the precisely correct location was challenging, and tiring.

  The first time the men tried to loop the chains, one of them shrieked and jerked his arm back and almost fell off the arch, caught by the front of his shirt by one of his fellows. He had to be helped down while we lowered the rock. Browne examined his hand, bound his two broken fingers, and gave him something for the pain. Then she was back with the circle, and we raised the rock again.

  We held it. And held it. And held it.

  I was aware of Coulter stumbling over the words. This caused the rock to wobble, and the men trying to thread through the chains swore and pulled back.

  Thatcher, standing beside Coulter, put his hand over the other man’s mouth. Shutting him up caused the rock to straighten.

  We held it and we held it and we held it.

  The weight seemed to be more draining on the mind than it had been the night before. Perhaps that had something to do with the kyrra powder feeling a little less powerful.

  The men trying to thread the chains through the gaps in the rock were shaking and sweating. Could they get it done?

  And then they did. The huge chains were pushed through and pulled up and some sort of fastening hammered into place. Mitloehner put up a hand, and we stopped singing.

  The rock held.

  I let out a long breath in relief.

  The others laughed and applauded and I ended up getting hugged by a lot of people without really thinking about it. Some of the laughter was a little hysterical, perhaps because of the kyrra powder, but also, I remembered, because at least some of them probably believed the rock was a t
alisman for good luck. And all of them put their hands on the rock, bowing their heads and closing their eyes. I felt a bit awkward being the only person not to engage in these actions, but to imitate their behavior without sharing their beliefs would be lip service, and that was insulting.

  The near silence after the constant singing and jangling of the chains was soothing. I could hear the waves flowing in the darkness, a sound I’d always enjoyed. It was calming to my mind which, while not as frantic as the night before, was still whirling more quickly than it should.

  The shipwright opened his bag and began pulling out and distributing mugs. “I believe this moment deserves some recognition. This is the best wine from Her Grace’s cellar.”

  Hm. Her Grace wasn’t supposed to know about this. How did he get his hands on it?

  “No,” Browne said quickly. “It will react badly with the kyrra.”

  Radia looked disappointed. “Even just a sip?”

  Browne thought for a moment and then nodded with reluctance. “All right. Just a sip.”

  The shipwright took this instruction seriously, pouring very little wine into each mug. When everyone had been served, Radia stood and raised her mug. “To luck returning to the land.”

  “Aye!” everyone else responded, and we all took a sip. I couldn’t really taste what I was drinking; my tongue still felt coated with kyrra. That seemed a great waste of good wine, but probably there was some symbolism involved that was more important.

  “I’m sure you’re all aware that none of us is to admit to having anything to do with the raising of the rock,” said Mitloehner.

  “How else could it be explained?” Berlusconi challenged him.

  She was really annoying.

  “It’s not up to us to explain. Let everyone think what they will.”

  We broke up shortly after that. I really felt like swimming, but knew that was careless. The currents of the water were strong, and I risked losing all my strength midstroke. Then I would drown, and that couldn’t be pleasant. And it would be rude to leave Radia to go back to the manor with only her escort.

  It felt like it took days to get to the manor. I ran up the stairs and into my suite. I paced. Taro came out and watched me pace. He gave me water but didn’t try to talk to me. I didn’t need him to. My mind spilled out plenty of fuel for a monologue.

  It didn’t take as long for the strength to drain out of me, but the headache was just as bad. That didn’t seem fair.

  Kyrra was certainly an amazing substance. There had been many periods in my life when I could have used something like that. But the aftereffects were unpleasant. I couldn’t imagine being tempted to use it again.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The next thing I was aware of was someone shaking my shoulder. “Please stop.” If I was still so exhausted, it had to be too early to get up.

  “The test is about your future,” said Taro. “I would think you would want to witness it.”

  I pulled a deep breath in through my nose and opened my eyes. That was harder than it should have been. It was daylight, though. I must have slept through the day and then through the night. The kyrra powder was truly powerful stuff.

  “How are you feeling?”

  I had to think about that. “Take your hand away.” He lifted his hand from my shoulder. Nothing changed. “All right.”

  “You don’t sound too sure of that.”

  I sat up. My body was sluggish, and I felt as though there were some strange barrier between my eyes and mind and the rest of the world. “I think I’m just tired.”

  “Hester just brought some coffee,” Taro said, leaving the bed. “You missed quite the ceremony yesterday. Fiona celebrated the raising of the rock. Luxury food and ale for everyone, and a couple of fiddlers.”

  “What’s her explanation for the raising of the rock?”

  “That she brought in people who could handle such work. From Misconception Bay, which handily explained why it took as long as it did to have the rock hung.”

  Misconception Bay was a good distance away. “And do people believe that?”

  He shrugged. “No one seemed to question it. I don’t think anyone cares. I’ve never seen so many of her tenants so happy before.”

  That was excellent. Well worth the effort and the discomfort caused by the kyrra powder.

  I dragged myself out of bed and stumbled toward my wardrobe. I should have been picking out my best morning clothes. People might be watching me, when they weren’t watching the test. I should try to look my best. But my best would take far too much effort, so I dressed in trousers and a shirt and let my hair fall loose. Yes, my mother wouldn’t approve, not that I really cared, but maybe Marcus would be so put off, some part of him would be disinclined to win the race.

  “How are you feeling?” I asked Taro.

  “I’m good.”

  “Not tired or nervous or anything?”

  He smiled at me. “Don’t worry. I’m good at this.”

  Taro was not a braggart.

  “Fiona wants us all to meet in the back parlor,” Taro told me.

  I did not go near the coffee. The smell of it almost made me gag.

  Fiona wasn’t alone in the parlor. She had Stacin with her, along with Tarce, my brothers, and my mother.

  “You’re not wearing that?” were the first words out of my mother’s mouth.

  Really, how often was she going to hit that drum? “Good morning, everyone.”

  “Good morning, Dunleavy,” Fiona said in a soothing, calm voice that was a welcome relief in the midst of annoying triviality. “I thought it would be the best way to show support for Shintaro if we appear in a group. It will make us more visible.”

  “That’s an excellent idea. Thank you.”

  “How are you feeling, Shintaro?” Fiona asked.

  “I will win.”

  Fiona grinned at him. “Then let’s get going.”

  We rode down to the test site. As with the foot race, there was a huge crowd waiting. I bit down on the urge to tell them to mind their own business.

  I drew up beside Fiona. “I confess I don’t understand why these particular activities are chosen for these tests.”

  “Running is about health,” said Fiona. “Winning a race demonstrates hardiness of the body. A horse is a symbol of wealth. The ability to control the horse is a sign of being able to competently handle one’s funds.”

  “Taro doesn’t have any funds.” And controlling a horse had nothing to do with managing money.

  “That doesn’t matter. It’s traditional.”

  “You know, tradition is really annoying.”

  She chuckled. “That’s strange, coming from you.”

  “What do you mean?” I had no great admiration for tradition.

  “The Triple S is full of tradition, is it not?”

  “No. Not really.”

  Fiona glanced at me but was too distracted to question me. She dismounted and handed me the reins to her horse. “Time to get things started.” She tapped my boot and wound her way through the horses and people and down to the riding field.

  Taro and Marcus lined up their horses side by side. I couldn’t believe this kind of race was meant to have two or more horses running at the same time. The field looked so cramped, filled with all of the walls and ponds to leap over.

  Gods, this was all so stupid.

  Fiona stood a little to one side and raised her hand. Silence fell over the crowd. “Neither party is to touch the other, the violation of this rule resulting in the forfeit of the test. Any form of sabotage will result in forfeiting the test. Accidental injury will not be a reason to halt the test. Do you understand the rules?”

  “I do,” said Taro.

  “I do,” said Marcus.

  “Do you consent to participating in this, the second of three tests, to determine who Shield Mallorough will marry?”

  “I do.”

  “I do.”

  “I call on all those present to bear witnes
s to this trial. Those of the east bring balance. Those of the west bring length of sight. Those of the north bring endurance. Those of the south bring grace. All must favor the outcome of the test.”

  And the spell was cast.

  Fiona dropped her hand. “Three, two, start!”

  The two horses sprang from their marks. I wondered who’d provided the horses. They didn’t look familiar, so I didn’t think they were Fiona’s. How could they know the horses were equally adept at leaping over the obstacles? Was that even considered an issue in such an event? Maybe picking the right horse was part of the challenge.

  The horses raced for the first hurdle, a short wall of wood obscured and heightened by brush. Some care for sparing the animal injury if it jumped just shy of the top, but dangerous enough just the same with the speed at which the animals were moving.

  Both horses flew over the hurdle. One down, nineteen to go. I could see all of the jumps from my vantage, and all seemed ridiculously high. And it wasn’t just the height of the jumps that was alarming. So much to jump over, so little space, it all looked very crowded. I wondered that the horses could gather any speed at all. Then again, maybe it was better that the horses couldn’t go too fast. Or did more speed make for a smoother ride? I’d ridden my fair share, but only as a means of getting from one place to another. I knew nothing about sport. Taro had always been interested in racing, watching it, gambling on it. I’d always found it dull, watching horses—or people, or dogs, whatever—running around in circles. This, though, was a little too interesting for my tastes.

  I watched the horses arc over the second obstacle. I heard people gasping around me. It appeared that hurdle was particularly challenging. It did look a little higher than the others, but I would think the third more dangerous, coming closely after the second at a sharp angle.

  Did Marcus shift a little too much in his saddle? Did he fumble the reins? It was hard to tell. His horse leapt true, though.

  The next obstacle was a water hazard, and it looked wide to me. I thought Marcus’s horse struggled to clear it, though clear it he did.

  Yet, still, Taro was pulling ahead. I saw Marcus rise a little further forward in his stirrups. I was pretty sure that wouldn’t do him any good.