The mirror vanished. It wasn’t that the image faded, as it did in mirrors in the Halls of Law; the entirety of the basin that contained the water disappeared. Kaylin turned to look over her shoulder; she could see the Avatar of Alsanis. If the Consort had somehow conjured the essence of warrior queen without bothering with the trappings, Alsanis had reformed his entire physical presence.
“Well it was stupid!” Kaylin heard someone shout.
“They were looking for Dragons!” Sedarias replied. Loudly.
Kaylin careened around the nearest corner; Alsanis had not bothered with subtlety, and had reformed the halls and the doors so that Kaylin was yards away from the room which now contained the rest of the cohort and Bellusdeo.
“It’s not like someone, oh, just tried to assassinate you.”
“I think it was a reasonable assumption that the war band that is hunting Dragons is not connected with the sister who was hunting me.”
“Obviously not entirely reasonable, given the injury. You said it yourself,” Serralyn told Sedarias. She looked up. They weren’t speaking out loud for either Bellusdeo’s or Kaylin’s sake; they were speaking out loud for Terrano’s.
Kaylin pushed them aside. “Let me see.” Sedarias’s arm had been slashed open. The cut didn’t seem to be deep, but it was long.
“It would have been worse,” Eddorian told Kaylin, “but Terrano pulled her back.”
Terrano shrugged. “And for thanks, my ears are still ringing.”
“Who did this?”
“One of the war band, and before you ask, no, I don’t know which one; he was wearing a helm that covered most of his face.”
“So...they mistook you for a Dragon?”
“I think the word was traitor.”
Kaylin rolled her eyes so far back they should have been sprained.
“I’m not happy with it, either. Teela, on the other hand, is blistering. You should hear her.”
“I’ve only seen her angry a few times—genuinely angry, not irritated. And I kind of like to avoid the hells out of her when she’s raging.”
“If it makes you feel better,” Allaron said, “Teela’s at least impressed that you weren’t stupid enough to go out to take a look at the war band.”
“Tell her thanks.”
“She would have been annoyed had you gone. But...she kind of expects better of Sedarias.”
Sedarias, however, was clearly angry at herself. Kaylin wondered if Sedarias was an anger-pointing-inward person or an anger-pointing-outward one. If the latter, she was going to be worse than a raging bear. And Barrani had long memories. On most days, Kaylin envied that, because her memory was a honed, mortal one. On days like today, however, she was grateful for the lack.
“Alsanis says—”
“It’s time to leave, yes.” Sedarias rose. Her arm had been bandaged by one of the cohort; Kaylin expected the work to be sloppy. It wasn’t.
“Teela told us what to do,” Serralyn said, by way of explanation. She glanced at Terrano. “We’re heading to Kariastos.”
“Shouldn’t we stop at Orbaranne?” Kaylin asked.
They all stared at her.
It was Terrano, not connected to the cohort, who said, “Orbaranne does everything within the scope and limits of her power to aid the Lord of the West March.”
“I highly doubt the Lord of the West March is involved with the war band.”
“So do they.” They. The rest of the cohort. “But doubting isn’t the same as certainty. And Alsanis was breached here, in the heart of his domain. They don’t want to take the risk.”
Put that way, it was the smart choice. Kaylin nodded and glanced at Bellusdeo, who also nodded.
“Here,” Terrano added. He handed Spike to Kaylin.
“You didn’t need to carry him. He seems to be mobile on his own.”
Terrano shrugged. “I didn’t want to lose him. And I’m certain we would have. They have at least one Arcanist in the war band.”
“Arcanist?”
“War bands have Arcanists, given what they were composed to fight.”
“And you know they have one because?”
Sedarias said, “Are we talking or leaving?” Clearly, this was not a matter she wished discussed in front of a Dragon.
This irritated Kaylin, but it didn’t seem to irritate Bellusdeo, who nodded in what almost seemed like approval.
* * *
“Are you certain you have control of at least this part of the path?” Kaylin asked Alsanis, for perhaps the thirtieth time. Hallionne, or at least the Hallionne Alsanis, did not seem to be troubled by either the repetition or the worry.
“I did not lose control of the path the first time,” he said. He’d only said this about fifteen times. “The path I created did exist; your friends could not find it. They stepped onto a layer that had been constructed deliberately over top of it, and it swept them away.
“And the Barrani who constructed that layer did so from within you.”
This was the only point that seemed to trouble the cohort.
“Sedarias has some idea of how it was done,” Alsanis said.
“Terrano should bloody well know.”
“Terrano was not always a strategist.”
“Meaning he didn’t make the plans.”
“Or follow them, half of the time. Were it not for the structure provided by the cohort ensemble, I highly doubt he would have been capable of troubling the Hallionne Orbaranne as he did. No, it is to Sedarias you wish to speak.”
Fine. “Are you certain that the portal pathways will be safe for us?”
“We are aware of how they accomplished their attack.”
Kaylin wanted to shriek. “Can they do it again?”
It was Sedarias who answered. “Not immediately and not without Alsanis’s cooperation. He is aware of the avenue of attack used, and he has come up with an effective counter to it.”
“They didn’t have his cooperation the first time,” Kaylin quite reasonably pointed out. “Look—from what I saw, they were carrying Shadow. Both of them. They didn’t enter through the front doors, but they were standing at the heart of his power. How could he not have noticed that?”
“Why don’t you ask him?” Sedarias said, throwing her hands up in frustration.
“She has,” Alsanis replied. “I have chosen not to answer.”
The cohort fell silent. Kaylin glanced at Bellusdeo and Terrano; Terrano was watching his friends as if, by strength of will alone, he could join what was obviously their discussion.
Kaylin then stared at the Hallionne’s Avatar.
“It is best, Lord Kaylin, that you engage in discussions of this nature with care. Were you Barrani, it would be less unsafe, but your expressions give much away, even when your words do not. I do not mistrust your intent,” Alsanis added, “but I have misgivings about your abilities.”
Because that was so much better.
“This is how it starts,” Bellusdeo said quietly.
The cohort looked toward her, even Terrano. “Those who seek power—the way one seeks one of the Dragonslayers—find power in Shadow. In small amounts, they consider it akin to the use of elemental magics, but small becomes large, because once one has broken certain taboos safely, there’s no reason not to continue.
“Shadow has power. And in small quantities, if it can even be measured, it has no will; it is inert, in the way fire or water are when summoned to light or douse candles. Theoretically, even at that size, there is a trace of the living element, but it is too quiet, too slight, to be sensed. So, too, Shadow.”
“And you know this how?” Terrano demanded. Sedarias kicked him; she knew the answer. She knew what Annarion and Mandoran knew.
“From experience.” The Dragon’s eyes were orange, but they were fixed at a point above and beyond the cohort’s collective head. “Shadow can be used to combat shadow in subtle ways. In that fashion, it is very like the elements. If we summon fire in a large enough quantity, fire opposes us. The will of fire is to burn—at least when caged and summoned. The will of Shadow is different.”
Kaylin glanced at Spike.
“I have now encountered Shadows who I would not consider enemies,” Bellusdeo continued, speaking the words as if grudging every one of them. “And I believe that those Shadows have the same will—if not the same function—as the rest of us. But this creature,” she said, indicating Spike, “was not under its own control when it ventured into the West March.
“And I believe that the members of your High Court who are being fed power—or absorbing it under their own recognizance—are in danger of becoming transformed and enslaved, just as it was. In the end, if they draw enough power, the Shadows have a doorway into the rest of Elantra. The Towers in the fiefs serve as a solid defense against a frontal assault. I do not believe Shadow can easily escape it.
“But the fieflords can—and have—entered Ravellon before, and emerged unharmed. Is it possible that the fieflords are allowing key Barrani Lords a path into Ravellon?”
“If the money was good,” Kaylin replied, uneasy now.
“You may well find that Shadow has begun a subtle infiltration of your city in a way that the Towers cannot easily prevent. I believe it of utmost import that we return to the Empire.”
“And put an end to the war?”
“As you’ve pointed out, your familiar appeared here without warning in the shape of a Dragon. No one who saw him believed that he was draconic, but it is a pretext for cessation of political hostilities.” When Kaylin stared at her, Bellusdeo snorted. “It saves face.”
“I’m not sure I want to save their faces.”
Terrano snickered.
“Portal paths,” Kaylin said.
* * *
The cohort were silent, which didn’t really mean much except that Terrano couldn’t take part in their conversation. Kaylin caught a few eye rolls, which meant the conversation was not all one-sided, and Sedarias did not notably cheer up. But Alsanis took them to the portal pathways without incident; the ground didn’t fall out from beneath their feet, and Bellusdeo did not go full Dragon.
Kaylin was slightly surprised that the cohort accepted a Dragon in their midst so readily, but probably shouldn’t have been. While they were holed up in Alsanis, Mandoran and Bellusdeo were bickering half a continent away. They had seen Bellusdeo as Mandoran and Annarion had; they’d seen her fight. They were aware that she had been injured in the defense of the High Halls.
And they were aware, as well, of her status, not as a member of the Dragon Court, but as a displaced person, a person who had been swept out of her life in the Aeries and deposited in an entirely different world. They were aware, as Mandoran was, that any old friends she possessed—those that had managed to survive three wars—were sleeping the long sleep of Dragons; she could not return to their sides.
War had scarred them all, destroying any lives they had planned before they were swept up in its currents.
Alsanis created a tall, rectangular arch; Kaylin watched as it went up, inch by inch, from both the left and the right, meeting at last in the unusual keystone at its height. There was a word carved out of the keystone that seemed to glow, and she looked at her arms almost automatically. Her own marks were flat.
To Kaylin’s eyes, the portal resembled a mirror—a normal one. The central image it contained coalesced out of multi-hued, swirling fog, until it turned into a flat, almost empty plain.
“Yes,” Alsanis said, to Kaylin’s unasked question. “In general, we attempt to enforce a familiar landscape upon these pathways. It is far easier for those who choose to walk them not to stray.”
“And today?”
“That shift in appearance requires more power, and more planning. Some essential part of the path itself is diverted into maintaining its appearance.” He did not need to point out all the reasons why that was a bad idea today.
Kaylin’s gaze returned to the portal. Something was moving across the plain; it seemed to be running toward them. As it grew closer, she realized that it was not one thing, but two; they looked like long-legged animals, too light of foot and musculature to be horses. Only when they were almost at the portal did she recognize them. Or at least their faces. Grimacing, she told the cohort and the Dragon, “They’re safe.”
Bellusdeo eyed them dubiously.
“It’s Winston and one of his brothers.”
“And Winston and his brothers are?”
“The core of the Hallionne are people. Different races, but...people. I have no idea what Alsanis used to be; I suspect Orbaranne was once human. Bertolle was neither. When Bertolle chose to become a Hallionne, his brothers remained with him. They were sleeping. I woke them up on the way to the West March my first time through. They...don’t really understand bodies.”
“They do,” Terrano said quietly. “They just don’t understand our bodies.”
* * *
Winston was delighted to see Kaylin. He was delighted to see the cohort. He was momentarily stunned at the sight of Bellusdeo, but not in the usual Barrani way. His passably Barrani head, attached to a much longer neck, swiveled from person to person until Kaylin felt queasy.
“Winston, please—just take a normal Barrani shape.”
“Oh. Sorry. We had to move at speed and we were forbidden faster modes of transportation, so we had to improvise,” Winston helpfully explained, while the rest of his body melted and reassembled itself beneath his face. “The Consort is waiting with Kariastos.”
“Did you have any trouble finding us?”
The question confused Winston, who glanced at his brother. His brother had also disassembled and reassembled himself, and was blinking rapidly. When he opened his mouth to answer, he didn’t use words; something very like a screeching insect buzz left his lips instead.
Spike whirred to life, and answered.
The two brothers exchanged a glance, and this time it was Winston who spoke.
“Can you understand them?” Kaylin asked Alsanis.
“Yes, Lord Kaylin.”
“Can you translate what they’re saying so it makes sense to me?”
A longer pause. “I am uncertain. Your friend is capable of communicating across species, and he may be able to explain the situation. I believe there is some concern.”
“About Spike’s presence?”
“About the portal paths.”
“Were you two attacked on the way here?” Kaylin asked.
Winston blinked. “No.”
“Why are you worried about Spike?”
“I believe that he’ll be noticed.”
“...And you weren’t worried about being noticed yourselves.”
“No—I told you, we avoided forms of travel that would be notable.”
Bellusdeo coughed into her hand.
“There are hunters abroad,” Winston continued.
“And that’s different from the norm.”
He nodded gravely. “Something is waking, Lord Kaylin.”
She blinked. “Why are you calling me that?”
Winston blinked as well, but with more obvious confusion and less grimace. “We were told by Bertolle that that is the correct form of address. And that we must endeavor to use it.”
“Bertolle was wrong. You can call me Private Neya, if you absolutely insist on using something that isn’t my name.” Which was irrelevant. Kaylin mentally kicked herself. “What do you mean, something’s waking?”
The two brothers exchanged a glance, and the other brother then spoke, whirring and clicking at Spike. Spike replied in kind, and as he talked, Winston forgot about his eyes; they lost their resemblance to Barrani eyes, widening in his face until the upper half was a kind of black mess that resembled open eyes seen through a magnifying glass.
All of the cohort found this obviously disturbing, judging by their expressions. Bellusdeo, orange-eyed, turned to Kaylin. “You are certain they are safe?”
Kaylin nodded. In a much quieter voice, she added, “They’re not quite used to having bodies like ours. I think. When they first woke, they reminded me of foundlings; they were extremely excited to see what these bodies could do. I think one of them grew both arms by several yards, and knotted them.”
“That is...not comforting.”
“It was very helpful when we were on the portal paths. They literally threw themselves down and became a road we could follow, which would occasionally open its eyes and mouths beneath our feet.” Kaylin grimaced, remembering it. “But they were the reason we managed to travel in more or less the same direction. If you fall off the portal paths, you wander a lot.”
“Do you think that was the intent with the cohort? That they fall off those paths and become lost?”
“It’s a thought.”
“Which means no.”
“I think someone wants Sedarias out of the picture. I don’t think they care whether or not the rest of the cohort arrives—but I could be wrong.”
“You’re wrong,” Sedarias said. She glanced at Terrano, and her expression softened.
“Terrano, you said you ducked into Hallionne Orbaranne’s space because something was chasing you?”
He nodded, his own expression uncharacteristically grim. “There are often things that will hurt you, off the pathways in the outlands. But most of them will hurt you unintentionally. They’re just not equipped to interact with people like you. Winston—I’m going to assume you came up with that name—is a good example. He’s flexible, and he can exist in a bunch of different states. He’s more aware of the dangers out there because he can.”
“Was the thing you were hiding from the same thing Winston’s worried about?”
“It shouldn’t be.” Terrano frowned.
“Is it possible that you attracted attention while you were exploring? And now that you have, something that wasn’t aware of us is now searching?”
The hesitation before the answer was longer than it needed to be. Kaylin chalked it down as maybe. She was therefore surprised when Winston said, “No. It is possible that he did attract attention; he is not like the others here. But what is hunting now is far more like him than we are. Something is waking,” he said again.
“What? What is waking?”
Winston ignored this. “We believe that Spike should remain here.”
“I think we need to have him at the Halls of Law when I report in.”
Squawk. Squawk.
“If you want to risk it,” Winston replied.
* * *
When Kaylin stepped through the arch, every mark on her body felt as if it had been slapped. Her eyes watered. But she took three steps and the pain faded, just as the pain of an actual slap did. She stared out into a vast expanse of nothing. No, not quite nothing; everything ahead of their group was a sprawl of gray. There were no trees, no sky, nothing that really resembled horizon. Beneath her feet, the gray was soft; there was a give to it that implied sand. Or flesh.
She went with sand.
She began to trudge across it; Winston was in the lead. In deference to Kaylin and the rest of the cohort, he chose to remain in his Barrani state. His brother, however, did not. Kaylin wouldn’t have found the transformation so uncomfortable if, at the end of it, he actually looked like an animal. She’d seen Bellusdeo go Dragon enough times that the sight of shifting—and expanding—flesh seemed almost natural. In the case of Winston and his brothers, however, things like fur or obvious animal musculature were missing. He simply changed the shape and orientation of his limbs to better move ahead.
He ran off, and Winston turned to the group. “He will scout. I will lead.”
“There’s no path?”
“There is. You are walking on it. But it is almost in its base state. It will be far more difficult to shift or upset its construction.”
“But not impossible.”
“Nothing is impossible.” Winston’s eyes narrowed. “We can see the path. I believe that one or two of your friends are also sensitive enough to follow it without the visual cues that usually accompany it. What is important now is that you follow me. If you are falling behind, make certain that we know.”
Walking on soft sand was far more taxing than walking on actual dirt or cobbled stone. Winston and his brother didn’t tire at all; neither did Bellusdeo. But the cohort, with the exception of Terrano, appeared to find it as difficult as Kaylin did after the first hour.
If it had even been an hour. Without sun or light, it was much harder to mark the passage of time. There was little to break the monotony of the trek.
“Do you want to ride?” Bellusdeo asked.
“No. It’s not hard, it’s just...” Kaylin shrugged. “There’s something about this place I don’t like.”
“I can’t imagine what.”
Kaylin continued, in spite of the obvious sarcasm. “It reminds me of the stuff between worlds.”
“Between worlds?”
Kaylin nodded. “I think this is what exists when there are no words.” She frowned.
Spike said, “Yes.”
“Did you mean words or worlds?” the Dragon asked.
“Words. At their heart, even worlds have words. Big, complicated, messy words. I don’t think you could know the True Name of a world—I don’t think you could see it all at one time. Even the Barrani, with perfect memory, would probably be stuck just staring for centuries in an attempt to grasp it all.”
“And in the absence of words, this is what remains?”
Kaylin shrugged. “You can ask the Arkon. He has old records. And opinions. Lots of opinions.”
“Kitling, you are really going to have to do something about that memory of yours.”
“It comes with the race.”
“No, it does not. It comes with ‘what Kaylin thinks is practical to know’ or ‘what Kaylin finds immediately useful.’” She eyed Spike. “Are you saying that this is similar to the space one would travel to arrive in a different world?”
“Yes.”
“But the Hallionne can affect the space.”
“Yes.”
“Can you?”
“I do not understand the question.”
“Can you affect the paths the same way the Hallionne can? No, forget that question. Winston looks as if he’s about to turn green.”
He really did. Kaylin would have asked, but his brother came racing back to the group before she could frame a question, and his expression drove all other thoughts away.
“We’re in trouble,” Kaylin said.
The cohort now bunched together as Winston’s brother raced toward them. He came to an immediate and abrupt halt, as if momentum was irrelevant to him. He then spoke to Winston in a language that none of the cohort could understand. Kaylin glanced at Bellusdeo, who shook her head, her own brow furrowing. The brother was clearly agitated.
The familiar squawked loudly. He then lifted his wing and draped it across Kaylin’s eyes.
* * *
The view behind the small dragon’s wing was very different, and Kaylin almost pushed it away; what was gray and formless in her own vision was formless when seen through the familiar’s wing—but that was the only thing the two had in common. Instead of gray, the landscape was an almost lurid splash of color, some harmonizing and some clashing badly. She had never seen blues so bright, reds so vivid, and had they not been moving, it might not have been so bad. But they were shifting constantly, as if seeking either position or dominance, and although there were no obvious objects—or people—in the mix, it made the landscape seem as if it was alive, and not entirely happy to be so.
A vortex appeared in that swirl of color; she could see it by the ways the colors began to move. As if they were liquid, they swirled in toward a point, elongating as they blended and vanished. What remained was Winston’s brother.
No, Kaylin thought. Winston’s brother had been invisible until that moment. Whatever had drained the colors of this land was not Winston’s brother. She remembered, then, that he had been certain he would not be seen, and wondered if this was why. Behind Winston’s brother was something defined by the lack of color that occurred as it walked.
“The good news is,” Kaylin told her companions, “it’s not yet another member of the Barrani High Court.”
“Give us the bad news. Good news isn’t likely to be a problem,” Sedarias replied, in Elantran.
“I was afraid you’d say that. Something is following Winston’s brother.”
“Something?”
“Sorry. I can’t see it clearly, so I have no idea what it is. Spike—do you recognize the thing that’s following Winston’s brother?”
Spike had already begun to spin, but he’d done so silently. Only when he began to emit a series of clicks that really did sound insectoid did Kaylin turn toward him, the familiar’s wings fitted to her face like a second skin. He no longer looked like a spiky, floating ball. But she understood, looking at him, why Winston had been worried. Where Spike spun, colors were attenuated, stretched, absorbed; the landscape beneath the feet of the cohort was almost gray. It was a much larger patch of gray than the patch being created by whatever was chasing Winston’s brother.
“Lord Kaylin,” Winston said. “I believe we will be in danger if we do not move.”
“Can you see the path? Because I can’t.”
“Yes,” Winston said, grimacing. “I really hate this.” He shouted something at his brother, whose breakneck pace had brought him much closer to the group than the thing that appeared to be pursuing him. It wasn’t; Kaylin realized that now. It was heading in a straight path toward Spike.
She kicked herself.
You were not wrong, Nightshade said. You will require what...Spike...sees, if it can be trusted.
I trust it.
That goes without saying. I believe your Spike now apprehends the danger.
Did you recognize what he was, when you first saw him? You’ve crossed the border to Ravellon before.
No. But I would not have recognized your Gilbert, either. Shadow is thought of as if it were fire; one does not need to place one’s hand within it to know that it will burn. Some revision to that thought is underway, but...
But?
Castle Nightshade, as you call my Tower, is extremely reluctant to allow any exploration.
And Candallar’s Tower isn’t?
If what you saw was correct, it was not Candallar who entered Ravellon. But Kaylin, be cautious. It is clear, from your first meeting with that fieflord, that he understands Imperial Law. I believe that what he wants is mundane.
And that?
To be repatriated, of course. He is, as I am, outcaste.
There’s something you’re not telling me. I mean, something relevant. A thought occurred to her on the heels of that one. Someone asked you for the same permission they got from Candallar.
Silence.
It’s not the first time you’ve had dealings with people of power in Elantra. It’s not the first time you’ve done favors.
This time the silence was weighted—slightly—with approval.
We’re not done with this, Kaylin told Nightshade, as Winston’s brother arrived. He did not change shape, but he did speak to Winston, his syllables thinner, higher and faster than they usually were.
Understand, Kaylin, that were I to be repatriated, I would not be the Tower’s lord. I could not, and do what must be done.
Is it because of the Emperor?
No. Lord Tiamaris retains his position in the Dragon Court. But he also retains and enforces the Imperial Laws within his fief. Not one of the rest of us do that. The Tower must have its lord. You have seen the Avatar of my Tower. Unlike the Tower of Tiamaris, it has a will that is ancient and not inclined toward mortals. It only barely accepts me—and I am not without power. There are, of course, those disinclined to have me return to Court. They would like Meliannos returned to the line; I have invited them to attempt to retrieve it.
If you came back, Annarion wouldn’t have to take the Test of Name. The cohort wouldn’t have to descend on Elantra. Things would be safer for everyone.
Is that what you believe of my brother? This time, there was both bitterness and amusement in the tone. It is too late, regardless. The cohort, as you call them, are on the move. Even if they retreat now, Alsanis will only be besieged by those who wish to ensure that they do not move in future. Or did you imagine that the attempt came about only because of their decision? The attempt occurred now because of their decision. But it would have occurred, regardless. And Kaylin? Be careful. I cannot reach you. Lirienne cannot reach you; you have left your partner behind.
I have a Dragon, and I’m not afraid to use her.
I am uncertain that a Dragon—even this one—will have much idea of how to deal with that.