Read Online Resenting the Hero by Moira J. Moore - Free Book Online Page B

and cats and children skirted through the legs of people dressed in their best. Bright colors, high hats, flowers weaved into hair and shirt lacings. Merchant stalls competed for space with magicians and miracle healers.
    â€œZaire, Lee, the moon’s not going to be envious tonight,” was Karish’s sweet comment. “Could you look any more drab?”
    â€œYou’d be surprised.”
    â€œAye, I would.”
    So I had more important things to do than gaze at myself in the mirror and make sure my hair was just so. Sorry.
    It took us a while to find the bench dancing circle in the mess of stalls and tables and people. If it weren’t for the flag, dark red with four black horizontal lines, we probably wouldn’t have found it at all. There were a dozen or so dancing sets, each consisting of two benches, roughly eight feet long and barely the width of the average male foot, with two black bars lying between them and one on either side. Boring things to look at, really.
    Timpani were being tuned on the side, four in all. I loved the sound of the kettledrums, it made me shiver, but I hadn’t been allowed to listen to them very often. Only while dancing under the supervision of my instructors. The stalkers, the people who would be manipulating the bars while we danced, were placing pans of chalk throughout the dancing circle and wiping down the bars. The dancers were stretching or testing their balance on the benches.
    â€œHey, you’re the new Pair,” a voice said from nowhere. A hand was thrust out at us. It was followed by the rest of the body and a warm smile. “I’m Elias Arter,” she said, grabbing Karish’s hand for a quick shake, then mine. “This is my Shield, Kennis Mao. Sorry we didn’t meet you when you first rode in, but everyone who can lends a hand with the Star Festival.” Her gaze scanned over me, and she looked like she didn’t know what to say. Wasn’t impressed with my outfit, I supposed. “Are you going to dance?” she asked.
    With her other hand, Arter was keeping a good grip on her Shield, a solid-looking fellow who was staring off into space. I didn’t know if he was even more sensitive to the noise than I, or just bored. “I’m Mallorough,” I said, though I figured she already knew. “This is Shintaro Karish. And yes, I’ve been ordered to dance.”
    She grinned. “Poor girl,” she said mockingly. “But you Shields get so few opportunities to shine, you’ve got to grab your chance when you can.”
    Mao woke up then, staring at his Source with obvious astonishment. I heard Karish making a swiftly repressed choking sound behind me. I kept my expression blank. I hoped. “Aye, there is that,” I agreed mildly.
    Mao got his own expression under control and looked at me. I could see the traces of apology in his eyes. I shrugged imperceptibly. She was a Source. “Do you dance?” I asked him.
    â€œOnly when it’s absolutely necessary,” he said wryly. “I’m stricken with a case of two left feet. But I shall enjoy watching you and sighing with envy.”
    â€œMy, how optimistic you are. When does it start?”
    â€œAfter sunset. It’ll be a bit yet. Grab something to eat.”
    There was plenty of typical festival food, too spicy and too heavy. I didn’t want any of it right then. It would weigh me down. Nothing to drink yet, either. But I promised myself I would indulge freely after the dancing.
    Karish had already lasted longer than I’d anticipated. He was aware of the long, admiring glances sent his way, and he responded to them with nods and smiles. I saw him send a few admiring looks of his own. But he kept a hand on me at all times. I didn’t much care for that, it made me feel like a child, but it was an accepted method of keeping track of a Shield, an easy way to sense and stop a dangerous act before it started. It