Heroes Return (3 page)

I looked at Taro. His face was blank. “Thank you, Bailey,” he said.

I wondered if he remembered Bailey.

“My pleasure. Please come this way.”

The foyer was gorgeous. A large rectangle of space with the ceiling stretched high to the fourth floor, each floor decorated by a long dark balcony allowing people to look over and down to the foyer. The walls were mostly a pale cream color, but were painted with beautiful landscapes of light green and blue. Our feet clattered against white marble floors. It was an airy, peaceful room, uncluttered and tasteful. I liked it.

Opposite the entrance was another door. Bailey, with a slow, smooth gait, headed toward it. Before we reached it, he gestured toward the door to our right. “That way lies the court room, where the Landed and others give their requests to Her Grace.” He gestured to the door on the left end of the foyer. “The ballroom is through there. Our Grace will be holding a ball to announce your arrival to the community.”

Oh. I had to nip that immediately. “That’s really not necessary.” Nor wanted. At least, not by me.

“It has already been planned, ma’am. In Flown Raven it is considered crucial to have new members of the community properly introduced. It is merely common etiquette.”

I sighed, feeling chastised. I would have preferred to keep my head down, stay unnoticed, so I could explore and meet people on my own terms. Instead, I was going to be put on display. I never performed well in front of an audience.

Bailey led us through the door, letting us into a wide corridor of dark paneled wood. “The library is through there,” Bailey said, indicating a door on our right. “And the music room is there”—gesturing at a door on our left. “I believe a more thorough tour is planned for tomorrow. Of course, sir might remember a great deal.”

“Not as much as you might expect,” Taro muttered. He’d spent most of his childhood locked in his bedroom. He wouldn’t feel familiar with most of the rest of the house.

“That is the dining room,” Bailey said, pointing at another door. “Cook will prepare trays for you tonight, to enjoy while you are meeting with the family. We will be preparing baths for you later.” He opened a door and stepped through into some sort of sitting room, a spacious room scattered with seats and settees, filled with windows and candlelight.

“Your Grace, Your Grace, Source Shintaro Karish and Shield Dunleavy Mallorough.”

There were four people in the room, three of them sitting on the floor. There was Fiona Keplar, Taro’s cousin on his father’s side and the Duchess of Westsea. She was a tall, slim woman with wispy blond hair. There was a man I assumed to be Fiona’s husband, Dane, who as he stood showed himself to be a tall, stocky man with dark eyes and hair. The blond toddler at their feet was no doubt their son, Stacin. I couldn’t even guess the identity of the slim, blond, bored young man sprawled out on one of the settees.

“She knows who we are, Bailey,” Taro teased the man I had already figured was probably too serious all the time.

“Things should be done the way they are supposed to be done, sir,” Bailey chided. I was pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to do that—correct Taro—but I liked him the better for it.

Fiona stood, picking up her son with her. “What in the world happened to you?” she asked abruptly.

“We were robbed,” Taro told her, leaning forward to kiss her on the cheek.

Fiona drew back. “My gods, are you all right?”

“Just some bumps and bruises.”

“What did you lose?”

“Our jewelry.”

“Where did this happen?”

“Just up the road.”

Fiona looked angry. “I do apologize. It is my responsibility to keep order.”

“I don’t know how you can prevent crime within your borders,” said Taro. “These things happen.”

“People are supposed to respect me so much that they wouldn’t dare attack my people.”

I’d been keeping my mouth shut, feeling it was Taro’s place to do the talking, but I couldn’t let that slide. “I think part of the definition of a criminal is a lack of respect for authority.”

“What did they look like?” Fiona asked.

I let Taro give her the descriptions. He had a better eye and memory for that kind of detail.

“We’ll ask around to see if anyone recognizes these people, or if there have been any other robberies,” Fiona said. “I think our guests could use some tea, Bailey. Or would either of you prefer brandy?”

Taro and I both agreed to tea. Bailey left. Then we all stood about awkwardly. This was Taro’s family. All the other members of his family, those I had met or heard about, were complete prats. I suspected Fiona was different, but I didn’t know what to say to her.

I didn’t know what Taro’s excuse was.

“I never expected to have the title,” Fiona blurted. “Never in my whole life.”

“Neither did I.” Taro grinned, and there was something sharp about the expression. “Better you than me.”

“Thanks,” Dane said sourly.

His tone made me curious. Was he not happy about being married to a duchess and having to move to Flown Raven? It was hard to tell; he looked calm enough. I hadn’t officially met Dane yet, as he hadn’t been in Erstwhile when I met Fiona. “Good evening,” I said, holding out my hand. “I’m Dunleavy.”

Dane smiled sheepishly. “I’m Dane. It’s good to finally meet you.” We shook, and so did Dane and Taro.

“Stand up, Tarce,” Fiona ordered the young man, who raised an eyebrow in response but otherwise didn’t move. “Where are your manners?”

“You claim I’ve never had any, my dear sister,” he drawled.

“Gods forbid you ever prove me wrong.”

“But you are never wrong, Fiona, my love.” Despite his words, he did stand and offer me his hand. He was very tall, and before I met Taro I would have thought Tarce impossibly handsome. “Welcome to the middle of nowhere.”

“You didn’t have to come with us, Tarce.”

“Where would I live but with my beloved sister?” He offered his hand to Taro, who shook it silently, and then he went back to his seat.

“And this,” said Fiona, cuddling her son close to her, “is Stacin.”

Stacin wasn’t interested in meeting us, if the way he buried his face in his mother’s neck was any indication. He was cute, though, all rumpled blond hair and, when I saw them, big blue eyes. “Good evening, Stacin,” I said, feeling foolish using formality on such a young child, but unaware of what else I could do.

“Greetings, little man,” Taro said, lightly rubbing a little fist with the tip of his finger.

Stacin chanced a quick peek at him and then buried his face again.

“Isn’t this sweet,” a sour voice said from the main doorway. We all turned to see a woman lounging against the side of the door at the end of the room, a tall, slim woman with blond hair and blue eyes. She was scowling. “Thank you so much for letting me know they’d arrived.” She pushed herself away from the door and headed for the liquor sidebar.

“I’d hoped to give them a chance to relax before dealing with you,” Fiona snapped, her change in manner surprising me. “Shintaro, Dunleavy. This is my sister, Daris Keplar.”

“Your older sister, Daris Keplar,” she corrected. She looked at Taro. “The one you decided not to give the title to.” She filled a tumbler to the rim with brandy. “Despite the fact that I’m older.”

Wonderful. An instant enemy. Taro didn’t need that; he already had his mother. And it looked like Daris could really hold a grudge. It had been more than two years since Fiona had taken the title, and Daris was still bitter.

Zaire, that was a lot of brandy to be gulping down like water on a hot day.

Everyone knew that the titles didn’t have to go to the oldest sibling. They went to whomever the original titleholder gave the hereditary code or password to before death, in most cases. Or in Taro’s case, whomever the potential titleholder—that being Taro—gave the code to in order to avoid taking the title himself. Anyone could be chosen to receive the code. I didn’t know why he’d picked Fiona; he never talked about it much. But clearly his choice, of the family members I’d met so far, was the best one.

Two maids came into the room using the same door Daris had used. They were carrying trays. “I hope you don’t mind,” Fiona said, “but we usually eat in here. The dining room is a cold and forbidding place. We don’t use it unless the numbers demand it.”

The trays were placed on a small round table, possibly used as a card table, and when we sat the maids laid a serviette on each of our laps. “Thank you,” I said. “I really appreciate it.” Actually, it made me uncomfortable.

“Yes, it’s very kind,” Taro added.

“Oh, aren’t we all polite,” Daris sneered. She was more than halfway through her brandy. “Treating the servants like you think they’re real people. I’m not going to let you ignore me, you know.”

What an unpleasant person.

“Believe me, Daris.” Fiona sighed. “No one could ignore you.”

“He could.” Daris pointed at Taro. “He ignored me right out of a title. This should have been mine.”

How very presumptuous of her. It wasn’t as though she had been born expecting to inherit Westsea. She’d had no expectation of anything until Taro handed the whole lot over to Fiona.

“Well, it isn’t,” said Fiona. “And it never will be, for I have already chosen my heir and you’re not it. Now, you’ve humiliated yourself enough for tonight, so I suggest you remove yourself to your suite.”

Daris snorted. “You can’t send me to my room like a child.”

“I can and I will. I will have two of the footmen escort you to your suite, if necessary, and have one stand there as a guard all night, if you force me to.”

That seemed an overreaction.

Daris rolled her eyes, slammed her glass of brandy on the sidebar with a splash, and stormed out of the room via the staircase at the back.

This room had so many entrances to it.

“I apologize for my sister,” said Fiona. “As you can see, she is quite bitter about how things turned out.”

Then why was she here? Why didn’t she stay in Centerfield?

I looked at Tarce, who noticed and looked right back at me. Was he bitter, too?

Then he smirked at me. That confused me, so I stopped looking at him.

“I never thought about what difficulties you might encounter when I chose you,” said Taro.

“There was no reason why you should have,” Fiona assured him. “And it’s not your fault. I didn’t have to take the title, and Daris’s reaction isn’t entirely unexpected. Please don’t let her disturb you. And please treat this as your home, for it is.” She hitched her son up higher into her arms. “It’s time this one was in bed. Enjoy your meal. I’ll be back down momentarily.” She took Stacin up the staircase.

Feeling a little awkward to be eating in front of people who were not, I looked down at the table. Each tray had a small bowl of cold, savory soup, a chunk of heavy dark bread, a few slices of pale green cheese, and flakes of some kind of fish I’d never encountered before. It was a light meal but tasty and filling, perfect after a day of travel.

“The house seems in sound shape,” Taro commented to Dane. “Did you suffer much damage in the earthquakes?”

“The house didn’t,” said Dane. “But some of the tenants’ homes were destroyed, and the tremors wreaked havoc on the stages and the flakes.”

“Stages and flakes?” I asked.

“Structures built along the shorelines. They’re used in preparing the fish for transport and market. You’ll see them in a day or so.” Dane smiled. “You’ll be learning a fair bit about fishing and whaling, I expect.”

Two things I’d never particularly wanted to learn anything about.

“Was anyone hurt?”

“Two wee ones died when their cottages collapsed.”

That was grim. And it was my fault. Taro had been able to feel the earthquakes in Flown Raven while we were still in High Scape. At the time, we hadn’t known the events were taking place in Flown Raven. We had only known that Taro had barely been able to control his channeling, and I had barely been able to keep my Shields up. I’d made Taro stop.

Those deaths were my fault.

“That won’t be happening again,” Taro promised.

That, I thought, was optimistic. We had no reason to believe we’d have an easier time channeling in Flown Raven itself than we had in High Scape. But that was none of Dane’s concern, and it was time to change the subject. “Were you involved in fishing and whaling in Centerfield?” I asked Dane.

“Whaling, yes. Though I didn’t always do much of the hard work. I mostly ran the books for estate production. That’s what I do here, too. Fiona hates working with numbers. Not that she really has time to do it herself. This estate is a complex operation, with both farming and fishing tenants. Everything you’re eating was caught or made on our grounds.”

“It’s delicious,” I said.

“We’ll show you around tomorrow, if you like, to meet some of the tenants and see if there’s anything you’d like to take your hands to.”

That was an interesting idea. I’d always wanted to be able to do something with my hands.

“And you needn’t worry about looking for company. There are dozens of families within a day’s ride, and there is always something going on.”

Hm. Within a day’s ride. That wasn’t quite the easy access to company that Taro was used to. In fact, now that I thought of it, there probably wasn’t easy access to any of the things—the horse racing, the gambling halls, the variety of taverns—that Taro was used to. He was going to go out of his mind with boredom.

All right. I would just have to make sure he didn’t get bored. I had no idea how I was going to accomplish that, but lack of competence had never stopped me before.

There was a short shout from the stairway, followed by the unmistakable thuds and bumps of someone falling down the stairs. My heart in my throat, I joined Taro, Dane and Tarce in rushing to the bottom of the stairs.