“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be here,” Kaylin told Terrano, hands on her hips.
“I’m not thrilled about it, either. Everything feels heavy and confining. All of the sound is wrong. I feel like I’m trying to speak around a mouthful of water.” Terrano’s eyes were a surprising shade of Barrani blue. He looked pensive, his smile absent.
There was no water—no living water—in the Hallionne. There was water in the heart of the West March, and Lirienne had invited them, for a value of invitation that made the word equivalent to command, to his home.
Kaylin had suggested they take the portal paths. She wanted to investigate them, and she wanted to begin a practical search in earnest.
She received three instant refusals. The only person present who thought it was a reasonable idea was Terrano himself. Orbaranne had been willing to have Kaylin inspect the portal, and the foot of the pathway itself; she was unwilling to let Kaylin actually walk it. Bellusdeo considered it a terrible idea, given the continued absence of the cohort, and the Lord of the West March looked at her with blue eyes above an impatient grimace.
So: no portal paths.
Terrano offered to meet them at the Hallionne Alsanis, as he had investigations of his own to conduct.
It was Bellusdeo who said, “Weren’t you driven off the pathways? Isn’t that why you disabled the Hallionne’s protections?”
“I didn’t disable them. I found a way past them.”
“Which you implied you needed.”
He was, of the cohort, most like Mandoran; if he hated Dragons, the hatred was impersonal and almost theoretical. “Is she always like this?” he asked Kaylin.
“No. Sometimes she’s actually angry.” Kaylin was surprised at the interaction between the two, and wondered if Bellusdeo privately missed Mandoran.
The four—Dragon, Hawk, Barrani ruler and uncertain—were stuffed inside a Barrani carriage which appeared to have magic wheels or something, because a road that should have jarred and bruised the carriage occupants felt smoother than expensively laid city streets.
The overland journey, on the other hand, was not short. Terrano lasted maybe two hours, judging by sun position, before he swung himself through the window and out onto the roof.
“He reminds me of Mandoran,” Bellusdeo said. “Did he really try to kill you?”
“Not personally; he sent Ferals to do us all in, instead.” She hesitated. “Well, not Ferals exactly.”
“What were they?”
“I think they were Barrani. Some were. Or at least one was.”
“He transformed them?” The Dragon’s eyes were orange.
“I think—I think they might have transformed themselves. Look, it was confusing, chaotic and noisy. I don’t actually know what happened. But Terrano was working with—” She stopped and stuck her head out the window. “Hey!”
“I can hear you perfectly well. You don’t have to shout.”
“You were working with Arcanists, right?”
“So?”
“Do you know how many were involved? I mean—was there more than one?”
“I didn’t count.”
“So, more than one. Or Barrani education is even worse than the education I received. Did you pay any attention to names?”
“If I couldn’t even be bothered to count, why would I know names?”
“Because someone is responsible for the disappearance of your friends, and the sooner we discover who, the better.”
Terrano shrugged. “I think it’s more important to find them.”
“That’s because you don’t live here. But they want to.”
Terrano muttered something under his breath. Bellusdeo caught it; Kaylin didn’t. Probably just as well.
* * *
Barrani carriage or no, by the time Kaylin stumbled out of the door she was sore and tired. Sitting still, or sitting as still as a moving cabin allowed, took a lot of energy; Terrano hadn’t bothered. Although the Lord of the West March was in the carriage and obviously a witness to his antics, his boredom had grown, and he ended up trying to fly. This had caused two stops, because his first attempt would have broken bones had anyone else tried it. His second attempt was only a little better.
But his third attempt was very Mandoran-like. “Don’t look at me like that. This is harder than it looks.”
Since to Kaylin it looked impossible, she rolled her eyes. She tried to remember that Terrano had almost been responsible for the death of a Hallionne, that he had attacked the Consort, and that he had no loyalty whatsoever to his own people. All of these things were true, but it was hard to put them in the right context when she watched him; his excitement made him seem almost like a foundling who has finally come to understand that he’s safe.
But foundlings couldn’t kill people. Except maybe each other.
As if she could hear the thought, Bellusdeo said, “There is a reason it is not unwise to fear them.”
“But you like them!”
“Yes, I do. But I have the luxury of being a displaced person—something I never thought I’d say. I can like them. I can let that influence my decisions. I am not responsible for the well-being of everyone else. Were I the Consort—”
The Lord of the West March cleared his throat a touch too loudly.
Bellusdeo inclined her head. “I do not believe I would take the risk.”
“Of?”
“Allowing them to take the Test of Name. It isn’t about the resultant politics—I believe that is the Lord of the West March’s concern—but about the resultant chaos. They don’t have malicious intent. But Kaylin, Hawks died.”
“Hawks died because of the ancestors!”
Bellusdeo said nothing. As was her wont, she said it loudly.
“So, if you were queen—or Empress—what would you do with them?”
“I would do what the Emperor is doing. I would wait and see.” With an apologetic smile, she added, “I am not Barrani.”
“I left Diarmat’s report behind.” It was probably a soggy mess, too.
“You have the Lord of the West March as a traveling companion. He knows more than the Imperial Court.”
“He’s not exactly objective. No offense,” she added quickly.
None taken.
“But the Imperial Court will be. Less well informed, but more objective.”
“Do you think so?”
“You said it yourself—they’re not Barrani.”
“Ah, you misunderstand. The Emperor’s hoard is the empire. It is therefore in his interests that the Barrani rule be as peaceful as possible. Where the Barrani choose to intrigue with any subtlety, it is a matter for the Barrani Caste Court. The High Court, in this case. But where that intrigue cannot be ignored with a bit of effort, it will not be. The Barrani, I believe, understand this; it is not something that needs to be stated.
“The fact that the cohort disappeared while outside of the Empire was no doubt a strategic decision.”
“Because it’s irrelevant to the Emperor?”
“Yes.” She looked across to the Lord of the West March. “I understand the cause for concern. Were you not prepared for this when they returned from the heart of the green?”
To Kaylin’s surprise, he nodded. “But understand, we are none of us mortal; we did not anticipate the speed at which a possible crisis could blossom. Not all of the Barrani responsible for the previous events which occurred in the West March have been identified with any certainty. It has been convenient—perhaps too convenient—to lay blame at Terrano’s feet. He was seen by many, heard by many, and he came with Shadows. Given the nature of the near disaster, we considered it unlikely that a similar attempt would be made.
“Men are oft ambitious when they fail to understand the consequences of that ambition. There was little doubt, in the end, of these particular consequences.”
“So...you didn’t expect Sedarias to move immediately.”
“We did not expect Mandoran or Annarion to move; the decision was made so suddenly that we did not have time to react. Time, however, has been taken since your departure.” He looked at her, his eyes predominantly blue. “Surely you do not believe that the Consort has only recently taken an interest in them.” He looked out the window at Terrano, who was literally bouncing along the ground on the tips of his toes, his Barrani hair streaming back from his face.
“He is a child,” he said, when he pulled his gaze away. “And had he returned, he would not have been so politically contentious.”
“Is it Annarion?”
The Lord of the West March almost glared at her. Almost. Bellusdeo did snort loudly, which caused the Lord of the West March to raise his brows.
“Sedarias,” Bellusdeo then said.
“Annarion is contentious among the High Court. When his brother became outcaste, it was, as you suspect, a political maneuver. My sister did not agree with it then, and does not agree with it now, but she was fond of Calarnenne. Calarnenne’s line, his ancestral lands, were taken by a distant cousin. We are not as numerous in our offspring as mortals of any race, but it should not surprise you to know that there was more than one cousin, and indeed, relatives far closer in blood. Should Annarion take—and pass—the Test, he would have some support for his initial attempt to reclaim what would be his by right of our own laws.
“The lord who replaced Calarnenne was a close political ally of the man who was High Lord at the time.”
“Is he still alive?”
“Yes.” The single word was curt.
“Does he have any relation, that you know of, to Candallar?”
“Candallar?” The Lord of the West March frowned, as if searching memory for the name. “Ah. You mean the outcaste?”
“Yes. He’s a fieflord.”
“An interesting question. I cannot answer it with any certainty at the moment.” Seeing Kaylin’s expression, he said, “I am not a criminal, and you are not conducting an interrogation. I am the Lord of these lands, and you are making a request. Asking a boon or a favor. Given events, I will attempt to find an answer. But, as Lord Bellusdeo says, it is Sedarias who is the most contentious of the returnees.”
“Who will she replace?”
The Lord of the West March smiled. It was not a pleasant expression. “An’Teela was a child during those wars; she is considered mature, now. I was not a child, but I was not ruler here; my brother was not High Lord, my sister not yet Consort. When Sedarias was sent into the green, her mother was Lord of her line. Her brother is An’Mellarionne now. He was her junior in age, and he was not considered, in their youth, her equal. He was not considered close.
“It is her brother she will unseat.” He closed his eyes. “Her brother has lands that adjoin the West March; they are small. His holdings within the Empire are larger.”
“He’s an ally.”
“He is, as you suspect, an ally of mine, and through me, of the High Lord.”
“Has he visited his sister at all?”
Lirienne’s eyes opened. He cast a glance toward the Dragon, who snorted and shrugged. “Understand that Mellarionne is not a child. As Teela, he has grown in stature, and in power, since Sedarias was sent to the green.”
“That’s a no,” Bellusdeo said.
“But—”
“She’s his sister?”
“Yes. She’s family.”
“If I recall correctly, you are an orphan. You have no siblings.”
“So?” She tried to keep active hostility out of the word, but it was difficult. She had never liked being talked down at, and she recognized it for what it was.
“You have an optimistic, even naive, view of family.”
“If the Consort had been sent away at your father’s orders, and she had returned, you would go to see her.”
“If my sister had been sent away at the High Lord’s orders, he would not have survived.”
And she remembered Teela’s father, and fell silent.
This amused Lirienne. You are thinking of your Nightshade.
She was.
Calarnenne was not son of the High Lord. He was not expected to rule our people. He built alliances, yes, but alliances require strategic opportunity on the part of one’s allies. There was every chance that I would become High Lord in future. I had strategic opportunity. Had my father sent my sister to the green to die, he would have died. If not by my hand alone, by the combined might of my forces and my brother’s.
But you would have visited her. You would have flown to the West March from wherever you were—
In the West March.
Fine. Your brother would have flown to the West March from the High damn Halls the minute—the second—he had word that she was alive. I’m not naive. I’m not stupid.
“You are not naive, and you are not stupid,” he agreed—out loud. “But your experience with the Barrani is too narrow. We said—all three of us—that our family and our relationship was unusual for the Barrani. It was, and is.”
“Nightshade spent centuries trying to find some way to reach his brother.”
“Yes. And in the end, he succeeded. He found you. He is also outcaste and fieflord. Your experience with Barrani involves very, very few, and it is unwise to make assumptions about an entire race based on such a selective sample. And yes. Were my sister to return to me alive—in any form—I would have been here.
“But your cohort are not my sisters or brothers. They are therefore potential rivals, potential enemies. They are certainly contentious. As they are not mine, I do not feel responsible for them, or for their survival. And Lord Kaylin? Very, very few of their families want them back; Calarnenne and Iberrienne are the exceptions. Honor at a remove of centuries is politically safe, and even wise. The dead can be created, recreated, their histories revised and transformed to suit the political needs of the moment. The living have never been so convenient.”
“Did any of the surviving family visit?” Eddorian’s brother had come, but not to visit; he had been one of the Barrani who had worked most closely with Terrano. And whatever had been done to him, or had been done to him by his self, had all but eaten his mind.
He was silent for one long beat. Almost reluctantly, he said, “Yes.”
* * *
The West March was, in theory, in the middle of forested land. It was not, however, a small village by mortal standards. The forest path, which was not obvious, was nonetheless easily traveled. Kaylin knew the moment they had crossed a boundary invisible to her eyes, because she could see the shadows of the giant eagles the Barrani called the Dreams of Alsanis. Terrano didn’t fear them; he remained on the carriage roof as they approached the bridge that separated the West March from the rest of the world. Lirienne did leave the carriage, then; the bridge was not fixed, and in fact, did not exist until he—or one of his kin—invoked it.
Kaylin would have disembarked as well, but she didn’t trust Bellusdeo to remain in the cabin if she wasn’t with her. For obvious reasons, she wanted the Dragon to be as invisible as possible while in the West March. Bellusdeo was not Teela; she didn’t immediately fly into a cold rage if she thought someone was condescending enough to worry about her.
Lirienne returned to the carriage. “Can Terrano be persuaded to come down off the roof?”
By which he meant, could Kaylin persuade Terrano to get down. She grimaced, stuck her head out the nearest window, and asked. When Terrano apparently failed to hear her, she shouted, instead. Terrano, whining, did return to the inside of the carriage, although he sulked for the rest of the drive, which was thankfully short.
Kaylin was reminded that Lirienne was the Lord of the West March; a dozen armed and armored men stood at a kind of elegant attention as the carriage pulled up to the front of his dwelling. He asked that they remain in the carriage while he spoke—briefly—with his seneschal. Probably about the Dragon.
Definitely about the Dragon, among other things, Lirienne said. I am certain you realize just how unusual a visitor she is. Or perhaps you do not, given your cohort and their place in your life.
* * *
“The reason he was reluctant,” Bellusdeo said, when they had been shown to their rooms by servants so frostily silent they appeared to made of ice, “was your reaction.”
“There was nothing wrong with my reaction.”
“He said, clearly, that most Barrani consider their direct siblings their most dangerous enemies. It’s just possible that the visitor had no love of the sibling; the visitor might have been attempting to discern just how much of a threat their sibling posed.”
Kaylin’s arms were folded.
“I loved my sisters,” the gold Dragon continued. “But I do not doubt that, had we all survived, we would have come into conflict. Serious conflict.” It was the first time Bellusdeo had ever said that.
“You kind of did all survive,” Kaylin pointed out.
“They are part of me, yes. They are part of my name. But they have no voice that I can hear. They cannot keep me company. They cannot fight armies at my side. They cannot argue with me, disagree, or suggest things I had not yet considered. I understand what happened; I understand why. I understand that were it not for their existence, I would not be alive; I even understand that I am more powerful and far more stable than I would otherwise be.
“But I miss them. I miss them especially in Elantra, where I have no role, no duty, no responsibility. And I nonetheless understand that we were Dragons. Sooner or later, one of us would have risen to lead the flight, and those who could not, or did not, fall into formation might not survive it.”
Kaylin stared at her. “I don’t understand Immortals.”
“No,” was the fond reply. “It’s probably why we like you so much. Even the Lord of the West March seems fond of you.”
“That’s because I saved his life.”
“And you assume that I’m fond of you because you saved mine?” Brows rose. “Kaylin...no Immortal likes to feel obligated to anyone else. It’s a type of weakness. It implies that we are not strong enough, not powerful enough, to stand on our own. We’re not fond of you because of that, we’re fond of you in spite of it.
“I do, however, have a slightly different concern.”
“Terrano?”
Bellusdeo smiled. “I forget, sometimes, that you’re observant.”
“Hawk.” She hesitated, and then said, “When a crime has been committed. Terrano, of the eleven trapped in Alsanis, was the only one who could freely travel between the Hallionne and the outside world. But...he kind of reminds you of Mandoran.”
Bellusdeo nodded.
“He reminds me of Mandoran, as well. If Annarion put his mind to it, I believe he could be political; he could make plans, and he would be focused enough, deliberate enough, to carry them out.”
“But not Mandoran.”
Kaylin nodded. “Not Mandoran. Mandoran does have the rest of the cohort sitting on him from a distance—but I think he’d need that cohort to keep him on the straight and narrow. The Barrani version of straight and narrow, at any rate.”
“And you think Terrano couldn’t have plotted what occurred the last time you were here.”
“Not on his own, no.”
“Sedarias?”
“I should have asked.” Kaylin looked down at her hands. “My past is something I’m not proud of. I never wanted it to be revealed. If I could go back in time and talk to the girl I was then, I might have been able to—” She exhaled. “It doesn’t matter. Sometimes my past makes me suspicious of everyone, because I know what people are capable of. I know it because of what I did.
“So I try not to question someone else’s past. I try to see what they are now because...that’s what I want, for myself. I haven’t really grilled Annarion or Mandoran. I’m not even sure Helen would let me, because they’re guests. But...they speak of Sedarias differently; she’s one of the only names I hear spoken out loud. If I had to guess, I’d say that the plan, while carried out haphazardly by Terrano, probably started with her.” She looked up. “What do you think?”
“I can’t fault your reasoning.”
“Mostly because it’s the same as yours.”
Bellusdeo smiled. “Exactly.”
“For what it’s worth, I don’t think Sedarias would try to harm the Consort, or the High Court, now. I do believe that she’s heading to the High Halls because Annarion can’t be talked out of taking the Test of Name. And I do believe that she doesn’t want to lose him. She’s not stupid. She knows the risks. She might not be certain what that risk entails—but she knows that the success rate is not high. Regardless, I’d bet my own money she’s not responsible for her own disappearance.”
“You don’t believe Terrano is?”
“I don’t think Terrano can talk to the rest of the cohort the way they now talk to each other. Alsanis preserved Terrano’s name, but...Terrano wouldn’t take it back. What he wanted, at the time, was freedom. I mean, he wanted all of the cohort to be free. To be happy. To have choices—but his choice couldn’t be theirs. He didn’t want what they wanted.”
“And you think that’s changed?”
“...No. But I think he misses them. I mean, they were like one hive mind for centuries. I think that he kept an ear out, from wherever it was he ended up. And I believe that he came because he knew—or thought—they were in trouble. But if we ask him for political advice, it’s going to be a mess. I’d be surprised if he remembered anyone’s name. Except Iberrienne’s.”
“Why Iberrienne’s? He was the one responsible for the worst of the attacks, wasn’t he?”
“That’s what I thought at the time. He was certainly the most visible. And Iberrienne was Eddorian’s brother. One of the cohort. I’d imagine that what Eddorian knew about his brother, the whole cohort knew. It’s just possible that’s why Terrano approached him.”
“Why didn’t he approach Nightshade?”
“If I had to guess, he would have tried—but Nightshade lives in a Tower. They’re not functionally the same as Hallionne; they might be worse. It would have been a risk to approach Nightshade, if it were possible at all; the Castle might have killed him or trapped him for a century or two. Iberrienne wasn’t a fieflord. Or a Hallionne.
“Which is all beside the point. Terrano probably won’t remember most of the names. It’s Sedarias we need.”
“That’s why we’re here,” Bellusdeo offered. “I’m just hoping the boys stay put.”
“That’s not why we’re here. We’re here because the water picked us up and dumped us in a Hallionne—without our consent, I might add.” And without any explanations, because panic definitely didn’t count.
“Are you afraid of Terrano?”
“I’m afraid that Mandoran’s practice at walking through walls—which often has hilarious results—will seem boring and normal in comparison.” Kaylin exhaled. “I don’t think he’ll deliberately harm us, but I’m not sure I’ll care much while I’m dying.” She glanced at the wardrobe by the far wall of the room in which they’d been deposited. The door, on the other hand, didn’t seem to be locked.
And given that Bellusdeo was with them, it probably should have been. The Emperor was going to reduce Kaylin to ash—probably after he’d eaten half her limbs. She wanted Bellusdeo to stay in the room while she went in search of the fountain by which she’d once conversed with the water.
Bellusdeo folded her arms, which meant no—and Kaylin hadn’t even asked the question yet. She started to. No, she did. But the sound of her voice was entirely drowned out by a roar that Kaylin would have thought came from the Dragon, if the Dragon’s mouth hadn’t been a shut, compressed line of denial.
Kaylin headed to the door instantly; she heard shouts and cries, but they were distant, almost attenuated, until she yanked the door open. Then they were a little more voluble. She drew a dagger, which probably wouldn’t help her against anything that was causing the Barrani to panic, but Bellusdeo caught her arm.
The Dragon was smiling, and if the smile was rueful, it was genuine. “You won’t need that,” she said, “and given the Barrani state of mind at the moment, it might start something you don’t want to start.” She had to raise her voice to be heard, even though she was attached at the arm.
“What is it?” Kaylin had a sinking feeling that maybe, just maybe, the Dragon Court had arrived. But there was no way—even by direct flight—they would be here yet.
She headed down the hall toward the shouting.
Bellusdeo followed; the Dragon’s eyes were a martial orange, which certainly didn’t imply there was nothing to fear. Then again, as she approached a cluster of Barrani guards—swords drawn, shields raised—she tensed herself. If her eyes ever changed from their very normal brown, this would be the time to do it.
But...her marks were flat, invisible beneath the sleeves of her shirt. Whatever was attacking, it wasn’t the kind of magic that kicked natural defenses into gear.
Take Bellusdeo back to your room, the Lord of the West March said. Now.
I think it’s a little late for that. And also, Bellusdeo wouldn’t go. Any argument they had would just attract attention. What is it? What’s causing the panic?
These are fully trained and experienced guards. They are not panicking.
Another roar.
Several shouts. The men disappeared down the hall with barely a backward glance. That was probably today’s miracle—although Kaylin privately felt well-trained guards would have noticed the Dragon in their midst.
She turned to Bellusdeo, who was still gripping her dagger arm. “Let go and I’ll sheath it.”
Bellusdeo complied. Her eyes, however, had shaded to an orange gold, which was as gold as they were likely to get. Kaylin looked at her suspiciously.
“You don’t recognize his voice,” the Dragon said.
“And you do?”
“Somewhat. He is not, however, attempting to converse at the moment. I think he is...afraid.”
“Who?” Kaylin almost shrieked. She headed in the direction the guards had taken.
“I think you’ll recognize him when you see him.”
* * *
Kaylin could not strangle a Dragon, although she was seriously tempted to try.
Lirienne, what do you see?
I think it best that you come in person.
Even with the Dragon?
If you cannot talk sense into her, yes. Understand that it is not an issue for me should she die here, and there are not a few families who would take great pleasure in the attempt to accomplish that. His voice was dry.
They’d probably die first.
Yes, but they would consider the glory of their deaths to be a boon to their family lines; it would be an honorable death.
Do you have Terrano?
Yes. The answer was curt. I am uncertain, however, that I will have him for long.
What?
Hurry. Against my better judgment, I am attempting to preserve his life.