The Hero Strikes Back

by Moira J. Moore

  The din in my head and ears calmed. Just a little, but enough that I could think. Kind of.

  “Dunleavy.”

  I was lying down. That’s it. Lying down. On the street. No, the sidewalk. The wood was hard and rough and dirty against my cheek. Didn’t smell too wonderful, either. But it wasn’t yet in me to move.

  “Dunleavy.”

  I closed my eyes, trying to think a bit beyond the obvious. Hey, you! I thought at a random note. Stop moving.

  All right, that was weird.

  “Dunleavy!”

  I supposed I should respond. It was annoying, after all, to hear one’s name incessantly repeated. “Aye.”

  “What happened?” Risa demanded.

  “Hope you don’t want details.” Because I couldn’t give them. I really had no idea.

  “Was that a Shield going berserk?”

  Oh. That. I pressed my palms against the sidewalk and carefully pushed myself into a sitting position. “It was indeed.” I could still feel it, the music, in my head, a little, though my ears told me the actual music being played within the tavern had changed into something slower, more soothing.

  “I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

  “So happy to contribute to your education.” I felt it was safe to open my eyes. I was indeed sitting on the sidewalk. People walked by and gave me confused looks.

  “Now, now, don’t get snarky.” Risa crouched down beside me, took my chin in her hand, and gently touched a thumb to the side of my mouth.

  I felt a brief flare of slight discomfort, but nothing too bad. “So what did you see happening?” I asked. I didn’t want to hear the specifics of my making a fool of myself, but I had to know in case I had to explain myself to someone. Someone like my mother. Or Karish. Or a Runner. Who wasn’t Risa.

  She released me and sat back on her heels. “You jumped up from the table and fell into the guy seated next to us. He jumped up and shoved you away. You hit him—a nice solid blow, by the way—and he hit back. So I hauled us out of there.”

  “You picked me up?” How demeaning. She wouldn’t have been able to do that if I were possessed of a few more inches. And how it must have looked, me being lifted right off my feet and carried out like a child in a tantrum.

  “It was the only way I could get you to move,” she said defensively.

  I hadn’t been accusing her of anything. I noticed for the first time the scrapes and shallow cuts on Risa’s hands and wrists. “I didn’t do that, did I?” I asked with dread. Turned into a right obnoxious animal, hadn’t I?

  She glanced at her hands and grinned. “Aye. You’re a vicious little thing, aren’t you?”

  “Sorry.” I felt my face flush. Why was it that every time I got violent, which was far too frequently, I ended up attacking one of my friends? Was there something going on deep in the back of my brain that I really didn’t want to know about? “Did I do any real damage in there?”

  “No, but the barkeep said he was barring you. He can’t do that, can he?”

  Huh. I’d never been rowdy enough to be barred before. “Not usually, but if a Shield creates a serious disturbance they’ll probably make an exception.”

  “They did it on purpose, though,” said Risa. “They were trying to drive you out with that music. I’m sure of it. I saw the barkeep talking to the musicians, and they looked right at you. I thought he was telling them to keep it down, or I would have said something, but obviously not.”

  Yes, that was the impression I got, too. That kind of music, no one played it in a tavern. It was practically marching music. I climbed to my feet, brushing off my trousers. “He has the right to play what music he wants.” That was true, too. “It could be said that I shouldn’t have even been there without my Source.”

  Risa straighten up from her crouch. “I’d like to see Karish do any better than I did,” she objected.

  “No, he couldn’t have.” Probably. I don’t know that he would have been able to carry me out as Risa had. On the other hand, he might have been able to talk me into a calmer state and allowed me the dignity of leaving under my own power. But none of that was really relevant. “And thank you for acting so quickly.” Before I’d done something worse. As it was, I couldn’t believe I’d actually struck a complete stranger. I couldn’t even recall what he looked like. I could meet him again in under an hour and would have no idea I’d assaulted him.

  Damn it. News of that was sure to spread, an unattended Shield going berserk and attacking another patron. This was going to do wonders for our relationship with the regulars, it was.

  I sighed and brushed dirt off my hands. “I’m not in the most festive of moods right now,” I told Risa. I was disgusted with myself. “But there’s no reason for me to ruin the rest of your evening. I’m going to head home.” How pathetic. “Sorry things turned out this way.”

  “You want me to take you to one of the hospitals?”

  “Oh, no.” There was no reason for that. All I felt was a warm tingling about my mouth, no real pain. Besides, the healer would expect me to tell her what had happened, which would be just too embarrassing. It was going to be bad enough explaining myself to people I knew. I wasn’t going to add complete strangers to the list.

  But Risa was getting that stubborn, immovable-object look about her. “You’re bleeding a lot.”

  I frowned and put careful fingertips to the side of my mouth. They came away bright red. I shrugged. “It doesn’t really hurt.”

  She snorted with exasperation. “So says the Shield. Not exactly reassuring.”

  Pleased to meet you. I’m the unstoppable force. “I am not going to the hospital, Risa.” She would have to carry me. Which, granted, she could do. Probably without breaking a sweat. But I was hoping she would allow me to retain some shred of decorum that evening.

  “Fine, but I’m walking you home.”

  “That’s not necessary.” Zaire, I already had Karish insisting on squiring me about. It was aggravating. I was fully capable of putting one foot in front of the other, thank you very much.

  It was because I was small. They assumed I was helpless. So what if they were actually right, that if stuck in a physical confrontation I would come out the undisputed loser? Did that mean I had to be dogged every step of my life?

  “I think it is, Dunleavy,” Risa said bluntly. “There’s a problem here. The way the servers in there were treating you was scandalous. And so was deliberately driving you out. We’ve been getting complaints about this sort of thing from all the other Pairs, though to be honest I didn’t think it was anything serious. I thought they were just whining because people were a little too distracted with all that’s been going on to give them the fast and eager service you Pairs are used to getting.”

  Ouch.

  La Monte getting a brick thrown at his head was whining?

  “Because, you know, we hadn’t heard anything from you and Karish.”

  And because of that they decided nothing was really going on? How oddly flattering.

  “But I’ve seen it for myself, and I know it’s real. And your braid isn’t going to protect you from any harassment right now. In fact, the way things are right now, that braid is an invitation to trouble, not a source of protection.” She pursed her lips, lightly touching the braid on my left shoulder. “I don’t suppose you could leave off wearing it for a while?”

  I was shocked. “You think things are that bad?”

  Risa shrugged. “Everyone’s acting so strange, Dunleavy,” she admitted. “Not just farmers and fishers and people most affected by the weather. Everyone. It’s like everyone is getting . . .” she hesitated, looking for a word, “antsy or something. We’ve been getting a lot more calls. And not for thieving, which I’d kind of suspect. Violence. A lot of assaults. Brawls. Domestic disputes. Not murders, yet, but I think it might be heading that way.”

  “Good lord.” I’d had no idea. Sure, I’d noticed some people were getting irritable. It was perfectly understand
able under the circumstances. But I hadn’t known the condition was near universal. What was going on?

  Well, there were a few things going on. Aristocrats were disappearing. The weather was going crazy and so were the regulars. And High Scape wasn’t experiencing any natural events. But none of those things were connected to each other.

  Were they?

  “So I’m walking you home. No more arguments, all right? I have to go to headquarters and report this, anyway.”

  “Must you?” Lovely. The whole lot of them, all the Runners at her headquarters, would get to hear in gory detail how I completely lost my head. Wilson, Risa’s partner, would love it.

  “Yes, I must.”

  Great. Now she was imitating my diction.

  “Let’s go.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  And I found myself childishly relieved to have the company after all. The incident at the tavern was the first time the Triple S anti-sentiment had been directed at me. Like Risa, I’d been too ready to dismiss it all as a minor inconvenience. Now I’d been convinced otherwise.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The next day I went to the Stall for my watch with Karish.

  Firth and Stone were there, of course. Firth looked up at the door when I came in, and then looked disappointed. I wasn’t Karish. Hey, I’d be disappointed, too. I supposed it was one of the few times I’d arrived at the Stall before Karish, and now Firth wouldn’t get her daily dose of tormenting him. I didn’t know how he stood it with such good grace.

  “Good afternoon, young one,” Stone greeted me, her tone mild. “Have a habit of walking into doors, do you?”

  “I got in a fight.”

  I would have thought it impossible to shock to such . . . uh . . . seasoned women. “You what?” Firth demanded.

  “I was in a bar. The barkeep objected to my being there. He had the musicians play some volatile music.” I shrugged, trying not to look as embarrassed as I felt. “I got into a fight.”

  They looked, if possible, even more shocked.

  Stone snapped her mouth shut. “Are you saying they deliberately played music to rile you?”

  “That’s what it seemed like. And I’ve been banned.”

  Stone looked grim. “Which place is this?” she demanded. “This will be addressed.”

  Did it have to be? It was only one little incident. “I was there with a Runner. She said she’d report it.”

  “And did she?”

  “I assume she did. No reason why she wouldn’t.”

  “Is she going to have his license suspended?”

  “You think a person should lose his livelihood over something like this?” That was, I thought, a little harsh. Especially as no damage had actually been done.

  “He didn’t just order you out, Mallorough,” Stone said, looking unusually serious. “He used music to force you out. Even the regulars know how unpredictable we can be under the influence of music. You could have been seriously hurt. You could have hurt someone else. It was dangerous.”

  Still, it seemed to me he shouldn’t have to lose his license over it.

  “At least give us the name of this place,” said Firth. “So we don’t go there, and we tell everyone we know not to go there.”

  That, I could agree with. “The Red Onion.”

  “Oh,” she said. “I’m surprised. I’ve always loved the service there. And they always have great musicians.”

  “Great musicians have an expanded repertoire,” said Stone. “All the easier to choose something appropriate to make a Shield go berserk.”

  And I did go berserk. Completely lost control.

  “We’ll be sure to tell all the others,” Firth promised me. “And everyone else we know, too. In a week Mel Opp will find himself working in an empty bar.”

  I wasn’t too sure about that. There were no doubt many who sympathized with the barkeep and all the other business people who were forced to hand over their goods and labor to people who apparently did nothing in return.

  Karish arrived for his watch. I wondered if he would be as disappointed as Firth by my uncharacteristically early appearance. Maybe he and Firth had some kind of weird tormenting game going on that I was interfering with.

  He was surprised to see me there. And of course he saw the bruise, I could tell by the narrowing of his gaze. But after a moment’s hesitation he merely smiled. “Good afternoon, ladies,” he said. “Lee, are you skating?”

  Firth snickered.

  “No.” When in doubt, take the words at face value and answer accordingly.

  “Well, someone must be.” He moved to the stove and checked the embers. “There are buskers on East Cooper Street, Claire.”

  Firth’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

  “Jugglers and drummers. Likely looking lads from the Southern Islands.”

  That sparked my interest. The Southern Islands. I’d read about them in the Academy, but there hadn’t been much to read. The Southern Islands had only recently opened up trade with the mainland and little was known about them. People had been living there since the Landing, but they had been separate from us, and from all accounts had developed differently from us. Apparently they didn’t have Sources or Shields, neither born there, nor posted. The Southerners just grit their teeth and bore with it.

  I’d never met anyone from the Southern Islands. I wished I had known about the buskers. I would have liked to have watched them for awhile, maybe even spoken to one, rather than coming to the Stall early.

  Firth’s smile, though, quickly skidded into a scowl. “Is that really true?” she asked Karish. “Or are you just saying that to get rid of us faster?”

  “A little bit of both,” he admitted. But his smile took away the sting, and pretty men were granted leeway the rest of us were not. “They really are there, but they have been there for a while. They may be moving on soon.” He reached for the coffee canister.

  Karish didn’t drink coffee.

  “So we should move it, aye?” Stone commented wryly, packing up her papers. “Or Firth should. I’m not going to risk drums.”

  “Oh, bosh, Dee,” said Firth. “I’ll keep an eye on you. Besides, you’re not as bad as Dunleavy.”

  “No one’s as bad as Mallorough.”

  Yes, yes, we all knew it. Of all the Shields on the planet I was the weakest when it came to resisting music. I bore evidence of it on my face. Now please go away.

  The older Pair left with only a little more teasing. And as soon as the door closed behind them Karish was on me, tilting up my face to get a better look. “What the hell happened?”

  So I told him, using the blandest, least emotive language I could think of and knowing it would do no good.

  Karish swore. “I’ll kill him,” he fumed. “I will. We’re going back there, Lee, and you’re going to point him out.”

  Aye, and Karish would be snapped like a twig. Or maybe not. I’d never seen Karish fight. Maybe he was good at it. But he looked kind of fragile. “Don’t be ridiculous, Karish.”

  “Look at your face, Lee!”

  “Not unless I have to.”

  He was not pleased by my witticism. “This is no joking matter.”

  Actually, it probably had been funny to watch, me stumbling around like an idiot. “And getting melodramatic about it will help, how?”

  “I’m not being melodramatic.” The kettle started whistling. He poured the water into the coffee. “You were assaulted last night.”

  “I did the assaulting.”

  “I meant the music.”

  Oh. An odd way of looking at it, but that was a Source for you. “It’s done now.”

  “It won’t be done until that bruise is gone and that cretin is punished.”

  I sighed. “You’ve got to learn to let things slide, Taro.”

  “You let too much slide. Something has to be done about this.”

  “Something is being done. Risa is reporting it. Firth and Stone are going to do their best to make sure no one ever w
alks into the Red Onion ever again. So leave it. It’s over.”

  He pulled a mug out from the jumble on a shelf and blew the dust out of it. “Does it hurt?”

  “Not really.”

  “Huh.” He poured out the coffee. I watched him with curiosity. My Source had once loftily declared coffee the merchant class’ joke on the world, for look at it. Liquefied mud, and people were willing to pay for it. What had made him decide to drink it?

  Oh, lord, the effects of coffee on a person who’d never had it before. This was going to be fun.

  Only he set it on the table before me.

  That set off the bells. What did he want and how much was I going to hate giving it?

  He sat in the chair opposite mine, pulling it close under the table. As was his wont when he wasn’t thinking about it, he sat ramrod straight, his spine nowhere near the back of the chair.

  I took a sip of my coffee and grimaced.

  “Did I not make it right?”

  It was actually quite awful. Far too strong. “What’s this about, anyway?” I hefted the mug.

  Karish assumed an expression of offence. “What, I can’t do something nice once in a while?”

  “You frequently do nice things, but something about this rings of buttering up.”

  He grinned ruefully. “You know that party Lord Yellows is having for Prince Gifford?”

  “Aye.”

  “And you know I’ve been invited.”

  “Aye.” Not so cut off from his aristocratic circle after all.

  “And you know I can’t refuse an invitation commanded in the name of the Prince.”

  “Aye.” Sucker.

  Karish’s grin turned feral. “I hope you’ve ordered something appropriate to wear.”

  I set my mug on the table with a bang, eyes growing wide with alarm. “No!”

  “You have to go, Lee.”

  “I do not!”

  “It’s your duty.”

  “In what alternate reality?”

  He assumed that air of patience that always made me crazy. “You’re my partner.”

  “Your Triple S partner. Not your social one. Take one of your lovers.”