And then it was over. The cyclone was gone. The air felt cold enough to sting. The sudden painful silence was broken only by Karish and me, panting like a couple of horses after a hard run. Then people were crying out in relief and disbelief. I could hear their feet slapping the ground as they ran toward us.

  I was exhausted, every muscle a useless puddle. Sweat lined my skin. My heart was pounding in my throat, my ears were buzzing, and I couldn’t quite see straight.

  I felt really good.

  I grinned at Karish. I couldn’t help it.

  He looked puzzled for a moment, eyebrows dipping together. Then he grinned back.

  Chapter Four

  High Scape. Once a tiny little village no one knew the name of, a series of massive earthquakes had brought three waterways through it, changing it forever. Eight major trade routes lured merchants, travelers, and criminals from all over the world. There was every kind of person and every kind of product, and the variety of entertainments was the stuff of legend. It was a huge, dangerous, intoxicating place, and all the people who lived there were lunatics. After all, High Scape was one of the hottest sites on the planet, a target for every imaginable disaster. Pairs prevented the disasters, but the citizens felt a certain pride over the potential for total destruction. Strange.

  Karish nudged his horse into a walk down the road to High Scape. I waited a few moments and then followed. Karish no longer objected when I chose to ride or walk behind him. He knew, though he had never admitted it to me, that my close observation of him that first day was probably the only reason I was able to Shield him so well during our little trial by fire in Over Leap. So he left me alone about it. In return, I was no longer quite so vigilant about maintaining those few paces behind. After the first little while it wasn’t so essential, and I had always found such a placement just a little too servile. But upon the arrival at our first assignment it was only prudent to follow protocol, and in a place as potentially dangerous as High Scape it would be stupid not to keep my eyes on my Source.

  Meanwhile, I had a new life to start, a life that was going to be incredibly free compared to what I’d known before. No one to tell me what to eat or when to sleep or when to study. I could walk anywhere, eat anywhere, casually meet people of every stripe without worrying about instantaneously bonding with them and ruining my future. When I wasn’t on duty, my time was mine, and I got to spend it in the most exciting city in the world.

  And the ugliest. I had to say that. The buildings in High Scape were hideous. Possibly because none of them matched. So much of the city had been torn down and rebuilt over the centuries, and it appeared that every time they needed a new building they hired the most demented apprentice architect they could find to design it.

  A pathetic effort had been made to brighten things up. There were banners hung from windows, arches, and every likely anchor that could be found. Streets were obstructed with gaily decorated platforms and stalls boasting goods of the frivolous variety. And the people seemed to be moving around a lot, full of excitement.

  I frowned as I remembered the date. Ah, hell. Damn, damn, damn. The Star Festival. It was around that time. I’d forgotten all about it. There’d been no preparations going on at the last village we had ridden through, but different places celebrated at different times.

  The Star Festival, when we celebrated the First Landing, when the first people came from who knew where and started living on our world. For most people it was just a time to get together and eat and dance and get drunk for a few days, with no other significance. Which was fair enough, as no one knew the exact date of the First Landing anyway.

  I’d never celebrated the Star Festival outside of the confines of my academy. Unbonded Shields did not go to public festivals. The combination of the general excitement, the activity, the drinking, and the music could be extremely dangerous, driving a Shield to unimaginable acts of violence or sex, sometimes sending them cowering in fear. Some Shields even suffered hallucinations. At the academy the activities, beverages, and music had been carefully chosen to keep the Shields calm. In public festivals, no such care was taken. Only bonded Shields could attend, because their Sources were there to keep them under control.

  I studied Karish’s back. He had done nothing—yet—to suggest he was irresponsible, but he was a Source and an aristocrat, and he lived to satisfy his passions. How could such a creature be expected to forgo his own pleasure just to make sure someone else didn’t behave inappropriately?

  I’d beg off that night, claiming fatigue, which was true enough. He would be relieved, free to chase pretty young things. I would worry about the next day tomorrow.

  That settled, I kept my eye out for the Triple S residence, where Pairs posted in High Scape lived. Again, High Scape was different than other posts, in that it required all of the Pairs to live together. Most sites had only one Pair, and each in a Pair was permitted to find his or her own accommodations. I supposed there would have been complaints, however, if fourteen forms of accommodation had been demanded without payment in one city.

  I had to ask for directions to the large, sprawling building with the Triple S emblem over the door. We left our horses at the hitching post, and I pounded on the entrance.

  The door was opened a few moments later. A plump woman with graying brown hair and the white braid of a Shield looked at us, and then at our own braids. “Yes?”

  I noticed no sense of recognition in her. “We are Lord Shintaro Karish and Shield Mallorough,” I said. “We’re the new Pair for High Scape.” I dug my hand into my belt purse and pulled at the letter I’d received at the Horse’s Head.

  “Oh,” she said, sounding surprised. The next words she spoke were delivered in a more moderate tone. “Forgive me, but we weren’t told when the new Pair was arriving, and you’re . . . well, you’re rather younger than we’d been expecting. Please, come in.” She held the door wider, closing it behind us once we’d entered. “I’m McKenna.”

  Karish took her hand. “My friends call me Taro,” he said, smiling. “It’s a great honor to meet you.”

  She smiled back, admiration tinged with amusement. “I hear you have a lot of friends, Karish.”

  He cocked his head to one side. “I like people,” he said.

  “I bet you do.” McKenna retrieved her hand, her expression one of tolerance. “All the bedrooms are upstairs. I’m afraid you’ve been stuck in the smallest, number thirteen and seven. We’ve been using them for storage. But we did know a Pair was coming eventually, so they’ve been emptied and furnished. Ben will take up your bags, and I’ll start some tea for you.”

  “Thank you,” I said, and she nodded and strolled away.

  An older man appeared from a side door, holding out his hands for our bags. “Claim a room before we’ve seen them,” Karish said as we followed Ben up the stairs.

  I shrugged. “Thirteen.” I was sure whatever they provided us would be adequate.

  From McKenna’s description, I’d been expecting the room to be a closet. It was more of a suite. A sitting room with a small collection of chairs and settees, a bedroom with a large quilted bed and two dressers, and an antechamber with a huge, deep bathtub. I looked at the bathtub longingly but felt McKenna had as good as ordered me to go back downstairs immediately.

  I took the stairs down and found myself a little lost. I was back in the foyer where we had entered, and followed the corridor past a larger version of the sitting area I had in my suite, a large dining room, and then into the kitchen. I realized I couldn’t remember ever seeing a kitchen before. I’d never entered the one at school. There was a long wooden table, with a few high stools scattered about, and rows of cupboards, and a multitude of implements of which I didn’t know the names or uses.

  “First post, eh?” McKenna asked. She was pulling mugs from one of the cupboards.

  “It’s that obvious?”

  “Aye. That look of panic at the sight of a kitchen.” She grinned at me. “Feel lucky you weren’t sent to one of the other posts, where you’re stuck in your own place with nary a lesson in a kitchen to tell you how the stove works. Have a seat.”

  “I was told we could rely on public fare,” I said, hiking myself up onto a stool.

  “You can, but you get tired of it. And taverns aren’t always open when you’re wanting food.”

  “And there are no staff here for that sort of thing?”

  “Just Ben. He cooks well enough. But I’m not comfortable asking him to fix something for me whenever I’ve got the whim. Besides, it’s good for you to learn for your next post.”

  “Shame on you, Lee, for expecting servitude.” Karish appeared to come out of nowhere, slipping onto a stool beside me.

  I chose not to answer. I didn’t expect servitude. I also didn’t expect to cook. No one had ever taught me nor encouraged me to learn, so obviously it wasn’t considered one of my responsibilities.

  We heard the outer door open, followed by masculine laughter.

  “Afternoon, Van Staal,” McKenna called. “The new Pair’s here.”

  Looking back, I could never be sure whether my mouth actually dropped open or not. Surely I had a little more polish than that? But the man standing in the doorway was truly divine. His hair was golden, his eyes were golden, his skin was practically golden. He was long of leg and broad of shoulder and quite thoroughly delicious.

  He was followed in by a slightly older man, a little less golden and a lot less dazzling but somehow still looking like his partner. Did that happen after a while? The dazzler thrust out a hand. “Van Staal,” he said, then gestured at his companion. “Stephan Rundle.”

  “Mallorough,” I answered. “This is Lord Shintaro Karish.”

  “Dunleavy is so impressed with my title,” Karish added smoothly. “I’m sure everyone would forget all about it if it weren’t for her.”

  I didn’t glare at him as he shook hands with the others. I refused to feel embarrassed about introducing him by his proper legal name. If he didn’t like it, he should have mentioned it earlier.

  “We’ve heard a lot about you, Shintaro,” said Rundle.

  “Taro, please.”

  “And all of it good,” Van Staal said, settling onto another stool.

  “You’re lucky you’re here in time for the Star Festival,” McKenna said to me. “I take it you can dance the benches?”

  Of course. “I’m a Shield, aren’t I?”

  “Are you any good?”

  I was excellent. “I’ve never broken anything.” Which should tell them enough about my skill without my having to brag.

  The outer door opened again, and three more people entered the kitchen. Shield Ogawa, a tall, skeletal woman with her blond hair cropped close to her scalp. Source Bet Farin, a small woman with dark hair and eyes and a lot of curves. She was McKenna’s partner, and from the way the older woman tensed, it was obvious that the two did not get along. And Source Val Tenneson, Ogawa’s partner, a plain, thin man with merry eyes.

  “Febray and Heiner are on duty in the observation post right now,” McKenna told us. “The others are helping set up for the festival. You’ll meet them tonight.” She said to Ogawa, “Mallorough’s going to dance.”

  “Excellent.” Ogawa smiled. “I like a challenge.”

  “Uh.” Time to nip that in the bud. “I actually won’t be dancing tonight. I’m exhausted. I’ll just get some sleep.”

  “You can’t do that,” Ogawa objected. “It’s the Star Festival. You can’t miss that because of a few aches and pains. You’re too young to let one day of riding wipe you out.”

  “I’m really very tired.”

  “So take a nap. A couple hours’ sleep, a bath, and a good meal will put you back in fine form and give me the chance to beat you on the benches.”

  “Really, I wouldn’t be a challenge.”

  “Really,” Karish interrupted sharply, “she’s very sensitive to music, and she doesn’t trust me to guide her through it.”

  Well. That stopped everything.

  Van Staal took a quick sip from his mug for something to do and hit his teeth against the rim so hard we could all hear it in the sudden silence.

  No one had anything to say. I could have smacked Karish for making everyone so uncomfortable. I wondered how he knew about my unusual sensitivity to music. I didn’t remember talking about it.

  “I never said that.” Ugh. It was the first thing out of my mouth, and it was weak. But I let it stand. Adding anything would only make it worse.

  He was watching me, his face blank. Perhaps he thought to intimidate me. I looked right back at him. I had nothing else to say. He had made his accusation, and I had denied it. Sort of. His turn.

  He rose to his feet. “Let’s take a walk, Lee.”

  Now he wanted privacy. Excellent timing. And quite the perfect example of the magnanimous lord escorting the errant servant out for a well-bred chastisement.

  I could refuse to go with him. Then he would ask me again, and again, becoming ever more patient as I appeared increasingly childish. Or he could just say whatever he had to say in front of everyone else. That wouldn’t look terribly professional, either. So against my better judgment I tilted my head in acquiescence and set my mug on the table. “If you will excuse us,” I said to our audience, then I followed my irritating Source.

  He strode down the sidewalk. I glared at him, for I needed two steps to his one. I probably looked like some little rat-dog scampering along beside him.

  “Have I ever insinuated you couldn’t do your job?” he asked sharply.

  “You insinuated I wasn’t doing it.”

  He stopped so suddenly my own momentum carried me a couple of steps beyond him. “When?” he demanded.

  Back at the first tavern in Over Leap. “What difference does it make?”

  “I certainly never did it in front of other people.”

  “Neither did I. You’re the one who felt like dragging the true reason out back there. They were believing the exhaustion excuse.”

  He couldn’t reasonably deny that. He pushed a hand through his hair. “What the hell did I do, anyway?”

  “Sorry?”

  “You were friendly with the blond fellow back in Over Leap, and the innkeepers and shopkeepers and strangers on the street, and everyone back at the residence, but with me you have this chilly, polite facade going.”

  So? Why couldn’t he just leave it? We were getting along well enough. So what if I didn’t adore him? By tomorrow morning he would have a hundred admirers tagging his heels.

  “So what did I do?” he asked impatiently. “Tell me. My hair isn’t blond? I’m not tall enough?”

  Prat. Did he really think I cared about such trivial things? “I am a simple girl, Karish,” I said. He snorted in disbelief, which surprised me. “And I never anticipated being bonded to the Stallion of the Triple S.”

  “You may stop referring to me in that manner any time now,” he instructed me coolly. “I asked you to call me Taro.”

  “Hey, if the horseshoe fits.” And he ordered me to call him Taro. Big difference. “I wanted to be Paired with someone discreet.”

  “And of course I’m not.”

  “You’re too”—I gestured vaguely as I tried to think of a suitable word—“legendary. You have all this dash and flair, running hither and yon saving the world. Everyone knows who you are, and everyone loves you.”

  He smiled crookedly. It wasn’t a happy expression. “Do they?”

  “Well, look around.” At all the people who turned heads to take another look at him. He was honestly that beautiful. He didn’t look, so he didn’t see, but he probably didn’t need to. No doubt he had seen it all before. “I didn’t want to work with a legend. I wanted a quiet life, do my job without anyone much noticing.” I let myself sigh. “No chance of that, now. Certainly, you’ll be the focus of all the attention, but some of it is bound to splash onto me. Lord Shintaro Karish’s Shield, easiest road to his favor.” Oh, he didn’t like that at all, and he scowled to prove it. Well, too bad. He’d asked for it. “You’ve got no right to complain about my behavior. I’ve been polite.”

  “Barely.”

  Completely. “Right back at you.”

  He stiffened his jaw before saying, “I have guarded Shields before.”

  It shot out of the mouth before the brain had time to kick in. “When?”

  “During my training,” he gritted out through his teeth. “When do you think?”

  Oh.

  “We are trained.”

  “I know that.” Not as much as we were, but they got some smattering of discipline, I knew.

  “We are not these uncontrollable forces of nature unleashed on the unsuspecting world with nothing more than one frail Shield standing between us and chaos.”

  “I know.” I supposed.

  “And believe me, we’re made well aware of our obligations to the regulars and to our Shields.”

  I knew that. Still, this was a social event. Why would he want to be saddled with any responsibility at a festival? Any normal person would resent that, never mind someone of Karish’s ilk.

  Karish swore. Under his breath. Very prettily. The refined accent gave the oaths a certain venom I had never heard before.

  “Listen, I just think it’s a little early in the schedule to be asking you to guard me for something like this.”

  “It wasn’t too early for you to Shield me in Over Leap,” he pointed out, as though he honestly thought the two situations were comparable. “But that’s different, isn’t it? You’re a Shield. Sober and responsible and disciplined. Unshakable in your duty. Whereas Sources are nothing more than a horde of irresponsible perpetual adolescents. We’d be dangerous if we didn’t have you Shields to keep us under control, wouldn’t we?”

  That was an exaggeration, and I knew it. Yes, Sources were a tad overemotional, but so were lots of regulars. So were some Shields. I didn’t think it made them dangerous, just harder to work with.