I washed off all the powders, then resumed my position on the floor. I put another mint leaf and some of the resin powder under my tongue. The resin powder tasted foul and I longed to spit it out, but this was the shortcut. “Candle be air, rise above care, fly up above, as wings of a dove.”
I felt the same tug in my mind, only harder. Nothing happened. I concentrated on the foul taste in my mouth, letting its sensation soak into my mind. I stared at the candle, stared at it hard, until everything that was not the candle went black. “Rise beyond care.”
The candle floated up. I sighed in satisfaction. The candle dropped to the floor. The shortcut required much more intense concentration, but that made sense to me. Fewer tools meant a stronger mental component.
I turned back to the book. There were other spells, and I tried those for which I had the supplies. I was able to perform all the shortcuts, but when it gave me a headache I decided to give them a rest and just read through the rest of the book, noticing several more spells I would like to try.
Suddenly, I felt something through my bond to Taro, from wherever he was. I felt the mental shields that protected his mind come down. That meant a natural disaster, probably an earthquake, was threatening Flown Raven. He needed to open his mind to the forces that made up the earthquake, so he could direct them somewhere harmless and drain the earthquake of its power. But the forces of the earthquake were not the only forces swirling about. My job was to protect Taro’s mind from the forces he was not channeling, to calm his mind and heart and blood against the strain channeling put on them.
When we first bonded, I had had no difficulty Shielding Taro, but since then circumstances had seemed to conspire to make channeling difficult for us. At one point, a rogue Source had learned how to cause disasters, rather than calm them, and those events had been difficult to channel. At another point, I’d been ill. The most recent source of trouble had been our transfer to Flown Raven. Taro had been born in Flown Raven. It was the policy of the Triple S that Sources were never posted at their place of birth. They tended to have trouble channeling.
And we had had trouble. The forces had rushed through Taro so quickly and so hard that Taro had barely been able to control them, and I had been barely able to Shield him. I had been close to admitting to the Triple S that we needed to be transferred, something Taro, for some reason, hadn’t wanted done.
Fiona owned a book that had been printed by the First Landed, those people from another world who had landed on our world to build some kind of colony. Most of what they’d brought to our world had been destroyed and buried by natural disasters, but this book had been discovered on Fiona’s land after an earthquake. It was a book of spells, mostly designed to deal with weather as well as natural disasters. Academic Reid, who had translated the book, had guessed that the spells hadn’t worked for the First Landed. And perhaps they hadn’t. But they worked for me, provided I used them through Taro. When he opened his mind to the forces, it gave me access to them that I didn’t have on my own. When I cast the spells then, they worked.
I kept the necessary ingredients in my purse at all times. I was never without my purse. I pulled the purse off my belt, sat on the floor, and dumped all the ingredients.
I rubbed dark orange hannan powder on my left inner wrist. “Soil to obey me,” I said. I rubbed white icin powder into the hannan. “Air to subdue soil.” From a vial I poured whale oil on the powders. “Water shape soil.” I picked up a red handled knife. “I call to you all.” Very carefully, I made a shallow cut on my wrist. “Bide by me.” I sprinkled dirt into my palm and made a fist. “I hold the soil still. Soil trembles no more. Bide by me.”
Through Taro I could feel the forces rushing about, straining his heart, pushing at his mind. It was invigorating, and it could be frightening. The forces could get too strong. They had the power to kill a Source. If the Source died, so did the Shield, and the natural disaster would be free to wreak destruction.
As I spoke the words of the spell, I felt something moving within me, something slow and soothing. It flowed from me and through our bond into Taro, calming and slowing the forces. The power of the forces thinned and stretched out, making them easier to handle. It meant it took longer than usual to channel the event, but at least no one’s brains were in danger of exploding.
With the use of the spell, the channeling went as channeling was supposed to. The forces flowed through Taro. His blood and mind and heart suffered only the usual amount of strain. I had no fear of being forced to lower my Shields. It was all good, and not a single tremor touched the ground. Job done, we each allowed our Shields to slide back into their natural states.
And then something hit the window with a thud that made me jump. “Son of a—” I stood and moved to the window. The wind was sounding pretty brutal out there. I listened for Radia’s horn but couldn’t hear it.
When the wind got strong enough, the Wind Watcher—Radia—was to blow a horn called a fischen to warn everyone in Flown Raven. She wasn’t quite capable of it right then, and Tarce had volunteered to take care of that duty. I now saw the flaw in that arrangement. What if Tarce wasn’t close to Radia, didn’t receive a message in time?
I cleaned up my casting tools and went to Radia’s room. She was sitting in a chair by the window, reading what looked like a novel. She smiled as I entered. “Shield Mallorough! Good afternoon.”
I suddenly felt bad that I wasn’t there to visit her, and that I hadn’t been visiting her often enough at all. I sat down. “I’m just wondering, do you think the fischen needs to be blown? Because I’ll do it if it does.”
“No, no. The wind is not so strong.”
“It sounds strong.”
She smiled again. “Trust me.”
Ah, yes. Sometimes I could be arrogant, such as challenging someone else’s ability to do their job. “Are your needs being seen to?”
She looked rueful then. “Lord Tarce is a frequent visitor. I have more than enough of . . . everything.”
“Including his company?”
“I would never say such a thing.”
“But you would feel it?”
She just gave me a look. She was more mature than I.
“Did Dias annoy you?” I asked.
She smiled. “He’s charming.”
“He isn’t free, you know.”
“Shield Mallorough, we were only talking.”
“I know.” I was a simple person. I didn’t really comprehend the practice of flirting with no intention of seeking a romantic attachment. What was the point?
Though Taro seemed to like it.
Radia smiled again. “You’re so very serious.”
It was entertaining that she, in particular, accused me of that crime. She’d always struck me as a fairly somber person. “Then I am in good company.”
She didn’t dispute it.
She looked down and plucked at a loose thread on the arm of her chair. “I understand you can cast spells.”
I did not like to hear that. “Do you?”
She didn’t pause at my chilly tone. “Normally, I wouldn’t discuss such . . . delicate matters. But it’s the wind rock. No one can lift it into the arch. No one knows how it was done the first time.”
The wind rock was the outward sign that the wind was too strong. A massive slab of stone suspended in an arch of the same material, if the wind could move it, the fischen must be blown.
Many also considered it a talisman of good luck. No one had been able to tell me why, merely that it was a belief created through many generations.
The wind rock had been knocked down by the same rock slide that had destroyed Radia’s home. “There are no records?” That was shocking. The post of Wind Watcher was so important. Vital. How could there be no records?
“There are, but nothing that addressed the creation of the rock. Too far back, I suppose.”
“I see.”
“If the rock can’t be raised, everyone will be devastated. And most of them will blame Her Grace. They will claim it is proof she’s not fit to be the titleholder.”
Damn it, we were supposed to be past the stage of the tenants grumbling under Fiona’s rule. “I don’t think I could do anything about that. It’s so heavy. It’s huge.”
“Does that matter? For a spell?”
“I don’t know. Wouldn’t it?”
Radia shrugged. “Not my sphere of knowledge.”
Not really mine, either.
The door flew open. To my utter shock, the Dowager Duchess, Taro’s mother, was standing there glaring at me. “Where is Shintaro?” she demanded.
It took me a moment to collect myself enough to answer. “I don’t—”
The door was slammed closed.
“My Lady,” I heard Bailey through the door. “If you would let me see to your comfort in the parlor.”
I didn’t hear a response.
Radia and I exchanged looks of alarm. “Excuse me,” I said, and I left.
“My lady, please.”
I followed the racket up to my suite. The Dowager had barged right in, a young man I didn’t recognize with her.
Taro’s mother. A horrible, horrible woman. I hated her more than any other person I knew, because of how she treated Taro. To my knowledge, she had never contacted Taro, ever, before his brother had died, and after he died it had been only to criticize him, give him ridiculous or demeaning orders, or try to browbeat him into seeking the Westsea title. And every time Taro had to deal with her, he came back twisted into knots and furious and, though he would never admit it, feeling less of himself.
Except for the last time. A few weeks ago, Taro finally laid into her, and it had been glorious to see. He had been calm and firm as he let her know she had no influence over him and never would, that he would do nothing she wanted, ever, simply because she wanted it. He would not seek the title, no matter what she did. He would never trust a word she said. I had been so proud of him. She had been floored, and we hadn’t heard from her since. I had hoped we’d endured the last of her interference.
“Ah, hell,” Taro said from behind me, making me start. I disliked it when he snuck up on me. “Think we can still escape?”
“Never,” I whispered in dismay. The Dowager had stormed the castle, so to speak. We wouldn’t get rid of her until she said what she wanted to say.
I didn’t see the Dowager herself, but her companion turned to face us, and his appearance made me pause for a moment. He was stunning. Dark brown hair cut short, the greenest eyes I’d ever seen, gorgeous cheekbones. He smiled, showing off beautiful teeth. He was tall and broad in the shoulders and his hands were long and capable looking.
The Dowager did like her men young and beautiful.
Taro strode to the door leading to our bedchamber. “Just what are you looking for, Your Grace?” he demanded.
“That is an appalling way to greet someone,” I heard the Dowager say, and then she came into the sitting room. “What kind of manners are those?”
One marvel about the Dowager was that she had no problem demanding exquisite courtesy from others while displaying none herself. It was magnificent in its consistent hypocrisy. I almost admired her for it. Such indifference to the feelings of others surely took years of practice.
Taro and his mother looked more alike than any two people I had ever met, and that included twins. She was short and slim, with black hair untouched by gray, slightly slanted black eyes, delicate features and golden skin. There were few lines on her face, perhaps because her face was usually expressionless.
“Not nearly as bad as the lack of manners that would allow a person to rifle through someone else’s things,” I said. In times past I had remained silent in the face of the Dowager’s attacks. It hadn’t been my place to speak, and I hadn’t wanted to exacerbate the friction in a relationship that might possibly improve. But the stunts she had pulled since we had come to Flown Raven, including spreading rumors that I’d been sleeping with another man, and Taro’s ultimate decision that he would have nothing more to do with her, left me feeling free to say what I liked.
Of course, I knew whatever words I said would bounce right off her skull, and I might as well save my breath.
She smiled, and I thought the shock it caused would stop my heart.
“Shintaro, Dunleavy,” she said with a warmth that might have fooled someone who didn’t know her. “This is Linder Hart. He is the son of a dear friend of mine in Tree Valley. He’s gone through a difficult time, and he’s come out here to rest and reflect. I was hoping that during his stay here, you would take care of him, Shintaro. Everyone else his age will be busy.”
Was that a stealthy insult? Like Taro should be ashamed of not having a lot to do all day? Was I being paranoid? Was there such a thing as being too suspicious when one was dealing with the Dowager?
“I see,” Taro said dubiously.
“How enthusiastic,” the Dowager drawled. “Can you not assume the cloak of interest for Linder’s sake?”
“It all depends on why you want me to do this,” said Taro. With good reason. The last time the Dowager had a gorgeous young guest, the plan was to seduce Taro away from me. How did we know this wasn’t more of the same?
I still wasn’t sure why the Dowager wanted to separate us. While she was attempting to lure Taro away with a toothsome young woman, she had been trying to convince me to leave Taro, providing examples of when Sources and Shields had been granted by the Triple S the right not to work with each other. That contradicted everything I’d ever heard about what the Triple S expected from their Pairs, whether the two liked each other or not. I had been tempted to ask the Triple S about it, just to find out, but Taro would probably not be thrilled about it if he learned of my inquiries. He preferred to keep our contact with the Triple S council to a minimum, and I had no problem acting in concert with that wish.
“Merely because I’ve been assured over and over again by several people that my son is compassionate, and good company.”