Fear for Terrano eclipsed intelligent precautions, and Kaylin picked up the pace, sprinting down the hall. She had never been good with geography, and the building was like a maze to her inexperienced eye, but she had good ears, and she could follow the sound of Barrani voices as if they were money.
She tried, once, to tell Bellusdeo to go back to their room, and decided she’d rather face hostile, armed Barrani. Bellusdeo was a Dragon; she could take care of herself. And could probably take care of most of them, if it came to that. They were no longer in the safe space of the Hallionne, but that meant nothing was restraining Bellusdeo.
And even as she thought it, she felt uneasy. This was the heart of Barrani territory in the west. It had existed through three different wars. She slowed enough that Bellusdeo careened into her, which did nothing for the ability of either of them to remain on two feet.
Only the Dragon cursed. Kaylin got to her feet as a distant roar raised the stakes.
Kaylin.
I’m coming. I was hoping to leave the Dragon behind. She picked herself up and sprinted the rest of the way.
* * *
The Barrani were prepared for Dragons.
Unfortunately, a Dragon wasn’t what they were facing, although the creature that towered above them in the courtyard certainly had the right form. He was the first silver dragon Kaylin had ever seen, and his wings—both of which were raised—were longer from end to end than even Bellusdeo’s. His scales were not the same shape as any other dragon with whom Kaylin was familiar, but anyone could have been forgiven for making the assumption. His eyes, however, were all wrong; they were Hallionne eyes. Terrano eyes.
Familiar eyes.
Without thought, Kaylin pushed past the spears and shields of the second rank of Barrani guards; past the swords and shields of the first rank. Lirienne was not a human lord, or at least not a member of the human caste court. When he joined a fight, he led from the front.
And he was, as he had said, attempting to preserve Terrano. Terrano even looked as if he required the aid.
“Cut that out right now!” she shouted.
The silver, shimmering dragon’s jaws snapped shut as his head swiveled toward her.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
I...am saving you.
“You are not saving me! I’m not in danger here!”
“I think that’s vastly overstating the case,” the gold Dragon said. To Lirienne’s credit, the nearest Barrani did not immediately reverse the direction of their weapons and attempt to skewer her. And given the color of their eyes, that wasn’t a foregone conclusion. Kaylin tried—very hard—to remember how little her life was going to be worth if something happened to Bellusdeo. Yes, it wasn’t her fault. No, she wasn’t stupid enough to drag Bellusdeo to the West March intentionally. Regardless, she was the one who was going to be ash.
Even as she shouted, the shimmering serpent form began to dwindle.
“How did you even get here?” she demanded.
The dragon did not immediately answer her question; instead he became a much smaller, and much less solid-looking creature. Her familiar.
“If you’re doing that so you don’t have to answer, I’m not going to be impressed.” She held out her arm. “If it’s all right with you—” she said, in Elantran “—the guard can put up their weapons.”
Hope flew to her shoulder and settled there. He squawked and bristled at Terrano, who was still cowering behind the Lord of the West March. He was the only person who was now cowering; at Lirienne’s signal, the weapons were, as Kaylin had asked, put up. She noted that they’d waited for his command. Fair enough; in their position, she’d’ve done the same.
Squawk.
“I’m sorry,” Kaylin said, to the Barrani at large. “Can someone tell me what, exactly, happened?”
The Barrani looked to their Lord, and Kaylin joined them. He bowed—to Kaylin.
He then bowed to Bellusdeo. “My apologies for disturbing your rest, Lord Bellusdeo,” he said. “It has been far too long since one of your kind has accepted the hospitality of a Lord of the West March.” He then dismissed the greater part of the men who had gathered in the face of this emergency. Greater part, however, did not mean all.
“Is your familiar now under your control?”
As much as he ever was. “Yes.”
Terrano, however, now kept the Lord of the West March and Bellusdeo between himself and the small dragon. “He’s not.”
“He is.”
“He’s not.”
Kaylin exhaled. “Hey,” she said, to her shoulder. “Whatever you’re doing, cut it out. You’re scaring him.”
Squawk. Squawk. Squawk.
Kaylin exhaled. “Bellusdeo?”
“He feels that Terrano is an enormous threat to your safety. He apologizes for the landing; he apologizes for antagonizing your kyuthe and his men. He was focused entirely on preservation of your life.”
“Does he look like he’s attacking me?” she demanded.
Squawk. Squawk.
“He points out, in fairness, that it doesn’t look like he’s threatening Terrano, either. That is not, by the way, the name he used.”
Great. “What was the name he used?”
“I don’t recognize it. I’m sorry. It’s clear to me that he meant to indicate Terrano, and it’s equally clear that there is some derogatory connotation. More than that, I cannot decisively say.”
Fine. “Whatever you’re doing, stop it now.”
Bellusdeo lifted a hand before the small dragon could reply. “He’s going to insist that Terrano stop first.”
Kaylin wanted to shriek in frustration. “Fine. Terrano, stop whatever the hells it is you’re doing.”
“I’m not doing anything!”
Kaylin exhaled slowly. She remembered Mandoran and Annarion, and she reminded herself that Terrano was not anchored to this particular life the way the other two were. Annarion had had no idea that he was calling out to the Shadows, either. And it had still been a disaster that had cost lives.
In a lower and more reasonable tone—she hoped—she said to the familiar, “Look, he’s like Annarion and Mandoran.”
Squawk.
“Fine, he’s like them but worse. I can’t see what he’s doing. Neither can Lirienne or Bellusdeo.” Lifting her head she said, to the Lord of the West March, “Is there anything like Ravellon in the West March?”
“No.”
“Are there Shadows in the West March?”
“Lord Kaylin, there are Shadows everywhere. But there is no concentration of their power in a like fashion; Ravellon is unique.”
Good. “I don’t think he’s doing anything on purpose. And I don’t think terrifying him is going to make him stop. If it’s all instinctive, it’s going to make it worse.”
Squawk squawk squawk.
“He does not entirely believe that it is instinctive. He is, however, willing to entertain the possibility, given prior experience.”
“Terrano,” Kaylin said quietly. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Trying not to die?”
She almost laughed. He unfolded slowly, his eyes darting to—and away—from her shoulders, where the familiar was now in residence. “Look, you’ve spent a lot of time—compared to Annarion and Mandoran—figuring out how not to live in the real world.”
He bristled. “I live in the real world.”
“Fine, if that’s what you want to call it. It’s not a world that the rest of us can live in.”
“You’re living in it now!”
Kaylin.
What?
I believe it is unwise to agitate him. I do not understand what your familiar fears—but it is clear that the fears are not entirely unfounded.
What are you going to do with him, then?
I? I am going to ask him to remain within Alsanis.
Like that’s going to work!
I believe that he will accept the offer, given the appearance of your familiar.
It’s not the first time they’ve met. She stopped. Thought a bit. “Terrano.”
He looked at her. His eyes were like the familiar’s eyes, but as she watched, he struggled to realign them with Barrani appearance. “The last time we saw you—my familiar and I—you were kind of trying to kill us all.”
“You were going to kill us first!”
“I don’t think my familiar cares what I was doing. He’s more concerned about what you were doing, because he doesn’t necessarily think there’s much reason for you to have stopped.”
Terrano looked annoyed. “We’re no longer prisoners. We’re not trapped in the Hallionne.”
“The Consort had nothing to do with that, though, and you were willing to kill her.”
He shrugged, uncomfortable.
“You were trying to undermine—or destroy, in the worst case—the Hallionne.”
“We were trying to rewrite them. And we’re not the only ones who made changes.”
“I didn’t make changes to the Hallionne.”
“You made changes to their brothers.”
“It wasn’t the same thing!”
The Lord of the West March cleared his throat. Loudly.
“Look—we need to know what you were planning in as much detail as you can remember, because we’re not at all certain that some of the people you were intriguing with aren’t responsible for this mess.”
“This mess?”
“The rest of your cohort going missing.” To the familiar she said, “Can he stay in the Hallionne?”
Terrano said, “Yes.”
She gave him the side-eye.
“I don’t hate Alsanis,” he continued. “And he didn’t hate us. But he couldn’t give us what we needed because of the way he’d been written. And frankly, I’ll be safer in Alsanis than I will here.” He glared at the familiar. The familiar glared back.
If it’s all the same to you, Kaylin said to Lirienne, I’d be a bit happier if Bellusdeo was a guest in the Hallionne, and she won’t go if I don’t.
I am not certain that Alsanis will view it the same way. Historically, the Hallionne were our last resort against the Dragonflights.
But Orbaranne—
My sister appealed to her directly.
Can’t she appeal to Alsanis the same way?
Alsanis and Orbaranne are not the same. Understand, Kaylin, he added, gentling his voice, that the Hallionne were created to fulfill the same essential functions, but they are not identical beings. You are a Hawk, yes?
Since this was obvious, she nodded.
Are you identical in temperament to your fellow Hawks? Are you physically identical? Are your goals—outside of your duties to the Halls of Law—the same?
No.
It is analogous to the situation with the Hallionne. Orbaranne is, where she can possibly be, amenable to my family. Alsanis might not be as amenable.
Why?
My father, and the constituent High Court of the time, sent the children to the regalia. They interfered with the customs of the green, and the effect has been felt for generations. The children survived, but Alsanis was isolated from that moment on. It is only since your intervention, Chosen, that he has been able to entertain and house guests—but after centuries of avoidance, people are still reluctant.
That wasn’t your fault, though. And it wasn’t the Consort’s, either.
No. And he is aware that the Consort of that time was against exposing the young to the regalia. Nonetheless, it was done, and it is possible Alsanis will be...cool to our attempts to ask for a similar exception.
Kaylin spoke some heartfelt Leontine. Bellusdeo, perhaps feeling slightly uncomfortable in the stronghold of a people who had every reason to hate Dragons, and might have already supported attempts to assassinate her, said, “Your pronunciation is lacking.”
Kaylin accepted this. Unfortunately, Bellusdeo then chose to demonstrate the correct pronunciation. She was right—hers was much better. It was also much louder, because she’d used a Dragon voice.
The familiar squawked loudly in her ear, which was still ringing from the Leontine which Kaylin now hoped the somewhat more remotely raised Barrani wouldn’t actually understand.
Lirienne chuckled. I would think the fact that she is a Dragon is of far more concern.
Kaylin shrugged. They’re yours. They serve you. You wouldn’t have brought us here if you thought you couldn’t protect her.
This surprised him. I better understand my sister’s concern, kyuthe. You are far, far too trusting. He signaled. The last of the guards thinned in number until only one remained—a man with midnight blue eyes, but a pleasant expression. He bowed to both Kaylin and Bellusdeo.
“You wished to visit the fountain,” the Lord of the West March said. “I have taken the liberty of instituting some precautions while you do so. I assume that after you have finished there, you would like to be escorted to the Hallionne Alsanis.”
Kaylin nodded.
Terrano, utterly silent until that moment, said, “Can I just wait here and go with the two of you?”
Every intelligent instinct Kaylin possessed screamed no, very, very loudly. Before she could give voice to a politer, less visceral response, Bellusdeo said, “Yes.”
Terrano gave her the side-eye. “Does she speak for you?”
“Frequently,” the Hawk replied. To the Lord of the West March, she said, “Can we see the fountain now?”
* * *
The courtyard in which the fountain was housed was immaculate. And empty. Kaylin knew that the elemental water ran through it because it was the elemental water that controlled entrance into the heart of Lirienne’s territory. As she neared the fountain’s stone base, she told her familiar to go sit with Bellusdeo.
Squawk.
“I mean it. I’m not Barrani; I can’t pay attention to more than two things at once.”
Squawk.
“I trust Lirienne. I don’t trust the rest of the Barrani I haven’t laid eyes on yet. And frankly, Terrano’s attitude toward Dragons is a touch on the hostile side.”
“I like her better than your familiar,” Terrano volunteered.
This was greeted with a hiss, rather than the usual overly loud squawks, but the familiar did push himself off Kaylin’s shoulder. Bellusdeo accepted him without apparently noticing that he existed, which meant she didn’t approve.
Kaylin, however, trusted the familiar; he’d already saved the Dragon’s life once, in an attack that had destroyed Kaylin’s first home in Elantra. She seated herself on the bench, lifted an arm, and reached out to let the falling water make contact with her palm. The water was clear and cool to the touch.
All of the marks of the Chosen flared to life on her arms; the hair on her neck stood on end. This was not a promising sign, and it wasn’t entirely pleasant. Her skin was tingling, as if it had been slapped. The water, however, caused no pain. Kaylin closed her eyes and reached, in as much as she was able, for the Tha’alaan.
There was a moment of terrifying silence before the thoughts of the Tha’alani group mind opened up to embrace Kaylin’s more human isolation. Usually, this was comforting. Today, it was not.
Kaylin. Not the voice of the water. Kaylin recognized the caste leader, Ybelline. Where are you?
I’m in the West March.
A moment of confusion, a hint of other voices. In the West March.
Yes. Did you not hear it from the water?
We heard only that there was a grave danger and you had been sent to deal with it.
The water is overconfident.
A ripple of amusement. The problem is in the West March?
Apparently. It’s not that simple. I hoped to reach the water, she added. Can you—can you hear the water?
I can—but her voice is very, very faint. We are not certain what was done, or how; it has caused confusion, and in some instances, panic.
The water dropped us in the middle of one of the Hallionne. We didn’t exactly have time to pack.
We.
Yes, sorry. Lord Bellusdeo is with me. Kaylin tried to visualize the events of the past day; she was now worried. Usually Ybelline could touch those thoughts if Kaylin could hear her at all.
The water carried you to the West March?
Yes.
I would not have said that was possible without the intervention of a very gifted, very powerful elementalist. Are you certain—
We were in the Keeper’s garden. We’re now in the West March. I’m pretty certain that random elementalists or Arcanists didn’t have much chance to interfere. And I’d bet my own money that Evanton had nothing to do with it, either. But—I can’t hear the water. I can’t ask why there was an emergency here. Something did go wrong here, but...
What went wrong?
Kaylin explained in the more awkward way: with words that she had to choose herself. Where once she had been terrified of the Tha’alani and their ability to ferret out hidden, dark secrets, now she was comfortable with it, even at home in it. Which is why, of course, it wasn’t working properly.
For the water to make the choice it did requires a vast outlay of power—and will. The water is not, as you are aware, a single individual; it has a will that is divided, and the divisions are not always complementary. The part of the water that is the Tha’alaan was the part of the water that chose to move you. But it moved you instinctively, Kaylin. There is trouble, but...it can’t clearly articulate what that trouble is.
Ybelline sounded troubled as well. Troubled and yet oddly relieved.
We thought the water was under attack by something new and terrifying. We do not have access to the Keeper’s garden, and the rest of Elantra is...not friendly when it comes to my people; we were discussing our possible options. A runner has been sent to Grethan, in the Keeper’s abode. Now, however, we understand that the weakening was at the will of the water, and not due to an outside attack.
I can’t hear the water.
No. I am sorry. We can, but it is very, very weak. The water bids me tell you that she can hear you, and that you must...silence. The silence continued for a beat too long. I am sorry, the caste leader said again. I am forced to contain the communication, to keep it separate from the Tha’alaan. We will...attempt to understand what she is trying to tell us; it is confusing. We can see what she sees—no, we can experience what she experienced—but we cannot...understand it. It is not an experience we, any of us, could have. But Kaylin? She is afraid.
Fear was poison to the Tha’alani; it was the entirety of the reason they avoided contact with other races unless commanded to break into their thoughts by the Imperial service. She felt Ybelline’s presence, as reassuring as a hug offered in comfort, and she thought that fear itself, run rampant, writ large, was poison to anyone, not just the Tha’alani. But it was here, in the Tha’alaan, that she understood what its absence meant. She could be herself. She could reveal her thoughts. They could see her lack of confidence, her lack of intelligence, her lack of strength—and to them, that was part of life. It was not the whole of it. They accepted it so calmly, so peacefully, that Kaylin could accept it all as well. Everyone felt these things some of the time.
But one couldn’t let those thoughts dominate all others; one couldn’t make decisions based only on fear, large or small. She exhaled. If I can, I’ll try to contact the water again.
If?
I have the only female Dragon we know about in the West March, an ancient stronghold of her enemies. I’d like to move to a different stronghold, just in case—but the water is active here, and I’m not certain it’s active everywhere. Its presence in the Hallionne we arrived in was extinguished by our arrival.
And they needed to speak with the Consort. They needed to speak with the Consort someplace safe from eavesdropping. The Consort didn’t trust her brother. Or perhaps she didn’t trust someone close to her brother. Or perhaps she didn’t trust Kaylin herself. The weave of suspicion, of the fear of deception, and of the actual deception itself seemed both fine and delicate—unless one were a fly.
But if you were a figurative fly, you couldn’t ignore that web.
The thing is, she thought as she withdrew her hand, you couldn’t live in it, either. If you were trapped in it, the only thing you could see was the web itself, and the web brought the fear of the spider until that was the whole of the world. But webs were in corners, in out of the way places; they weren’t the whole world. And it would be easy to forget that.
It had been easy to forget it.
But...it was tricky. If the entire world wasn’t treachery and deception, treachery and deception existed. How safely could one approach that web without being caught up in it again?
“You’re thinking,” Bellusdeo said.
Kaylin shrugged. “Brooding, mostly.”
“Well, possibly now is not the best time. Your familiar is chewing on my hair and glaring at everything.”
“That’s not a glare—that’s the way his face always looks. And, umm, sorry about your hair.” Kaylin lifted an arm, retrieved her familiar, and turned to offer the Lord of the West March a very correct bow. This surprised him, so Diarmat’s infernal lessons were clearly useful for something. “We would like, if possible, to visit Alsanis now.”
He did not argue. He spoke a word to his attendant, and the attendant nodded, vanishing down one of the halls that led away from the fountain.
* * *
“Yes, we understand that,” Kaylin said, with barely contained exasperation. “What we want to know is what your other allies wanted from the alliance.”
“Well, the mortals probably wanted to live forever,” Terrano replied.
“The mortals weren’t your only allies. They weren’t even the most significant of your allies. And they weren’t the ones who were attempting to write the rest of us out of existence.”
“It wouldn’t have worked. I think.” Terrano didn’t seem all that upset about genocide as a concept, at least when it didn’t involve the race he was born to.
“Did you never talk to them?”
“Yes.”
“What did you offer them?”
He rolled his eyes. His response was High Barrani, but it was not a word Kaylin recognized. Or rather, not a series of words.
The Lord of the West March, however, did, and he grew pale, which was not a terribly good look on the Barrani. His eyes devolved instantly from blue into a midnight blue that suggested black.
I take it that’s bad?
No response. Kaylin understood that she could push for one, but didn’t; it would cause them both unnecessary pain. And one of them, a lot of guilt.
“This was your idea?”
“Not really. We could have offered them ripe oranges for all the difference it made to the rest of us. Or gold. Actually, we did offer gold, if I recall.”
“And where did the gold come from?”
“The mortal caste court—the human one. At least I think it did.”
Kaylin could not remember wanting to strangle Mandoran this intensely, but maybe her memory was being kind. Had Terrano not been so confused and so...whatever he was, she would have seriously considered letting her familiar eat him. Or whatever it was he’d attempted to do the first time.
But if she wanted to see him as an enemy, she was failing. She thought if foundlings were given the power Terrano had been given, the world might be in just the same trouble: he didn’t understand consequences. He didn’t understand the world in which Kaylin and almost all of her friends actually lived.
“You don’t happen to remember names?”
“You asked that one already. Humans don’t have names, anyway.”
“Well, neither do you, anymore.”
“I don’t need one.”
“Neither do we!”
Bellusdeo cleared her throat, which sounded a little like she’d swallowed an earthquake.
Kaylin shoved her hands into her pockets and strode ahead.
* * *
Alsanis was not, like Orbaranne or the other Hallionne, a way station in the wilderness. He was situated in the heart of the Lord of the West March’s territory. For centuries he had been an impassible prison, a symbol of the cost of ambition and hubris. Now, he was a Hallionne. But if what Lirienne said was true, old habits died hard; he had visitors, but they were few.
One of those visitors was, however, in the courtyard.
Kaylin recognized Lord Barian, the Warden of the West March. If she understood the position correctly, he was second only to Lirienne—but he was not a Lord of the High Court, which had caused some friction in his family. His eyes, when he turned to face her, were green; his smile seemed genuine.
“Lord Kaylin,” Lord Barian said, offering her a low and deeply respectful bow.
“Lord Barian.” She became instantly aware of the difference in their clothing, their deportment, and their appearance. Kaylin returned the bow, mindful of Diarmat’s words, which now seemed to be replaying with annoying frequency in the inside of her head.
She rose and glanced around the courtyard, aware that it was the very edge of Hallionne Alsanis. “You’ve been visiting the Hallionne?”
He nodded, his expression serious; he glanced, once, at the Lord of the West March. It was not an entirely friendly glance, but Kaylin didn’t have a deep understanding of the politics of the West March, except for those employed by Lord Barian’s mother, who detested Kaylin, and whom Kaylin would be overjoyed to avoid on this unexpected visit. Contempt and condescension were things Kaylin understood quite well.
His glance once again flickered to—and away from—the Lord of the West March. “The Lord of the West March has, perhaps, acquainted you with the details?”
“I know only that Sedarias and her friends had decided to visit us, and that they disappeared in transit. They chose to travel by the portal paths.” She cleared her throat and started with the easiest introduction first. “This is Terrano. I’m not sure if you’ve been formally introduced.”
His eyes widened. “You are one of the twelve.”
Terrano nodded.
“You are the one who did not choose to remain.”
He nodded again. He looked slightly nervous.
“Have you had word of your friends? Contact with them? The Hallionne Alsanis would be very interested.”
“No. I heard them, but I was too far away to come to their aid, and I do not know where they are.”
“Do you know if they are still alive?”
Terrano stiffened, but did not reply.
Lord Barian bowed immediately. “My apologies, Terrano. The Hallionne is concerned; it is much on his mind.”
Kaylin cleared her throat and considered avoiding the introduction of the Dragon. Her familiar squawked, and she relented. “This,” she said, when she had Lord Barian’s attention, “is Lord Bellusdeo of the Imperial Dragon Court.”