03
Nightshade’s rooms were, to no one’s surprise, very like the Barrani rooms in which the cohort lived. These were more expansive;
Andellen wouldn’t be sleeping on a couch in his master’s bedchamber.
Andellen, however, paused at the door. The external door did not, in any way, resemble the interior.
“May I see the room in which my lord has been placed?”
“You can,” Helen replied, her expression neutral.
“You do not recommend it.”
“Annarion is with him. Annarion is . . . not stable at the moment. He is attempting to examine his brother, and he is coming
up against the same difficulties Kaylin did. I am having trouble convincing him that he must maintain solid form—and he must
approach any spell with caution.”
Kaylin groaned.
Andellen glanced at her.
“She’s giving us warning that the rest of the inhabitants of my house will be joining Annarion and Mandoran. One of them is
An’Mellarionne.”
“These would be friends of my lord’s brother?”
“Yes. I assume you’ve heard about them.”
“I have heard very little. My lord seldom chooses to discuss the personal matters of his family. I am aware, however, that they arrived shortly after Lord Annarion.”
“They’re not great with formal introductions, so I might have to just point them out to—”
The door flew open. Sedarias and Terrano were standing in the frame, and they moved almost as one person. Terrano’s eyes were
in the disturbing, too-large-for-his-face configuration; Sedarias’s were not. They were the color of midnight, if midnight
was an emotion.
Midnight was clearly a Barrani emotion. Sedarias didn’t push Andellen out of the way; she didn’t have to. Andellen stepped
adroitly to one side as she barreled past.
“That’s An’Mellarionne,” Kaylin said when Sedarias was far enough away. “The person she came with—”
“Lord Terrano.”
Kaylin grimaced. “Technically, yes. But we call him Terrano. His eyes don’t always look like that.”
Andellen’s gaze, blue-eyed, did not darken; he watched Sedarias. Or perhaps he was now concerned about Terrano. People who
were used to Terrano understood that his eyes could enlarge or practically melt, but that didn’t mean he was injured. Or dangerous.
Or not intentionally dangerous.
Kaylin turned to Andellen. “If you want to give them privacy, remain here.”
“You do not?”
“Privacy isn’t really a huge concern for the cohort. And also: it’s my damn house.”
Kaylin entered the room behind Sedarias and Terrano.
Nightshade lay atop a bed meant for one, his arms by his sides, his eyes closed. His hair was a spill of black, and even in
his state, not a strand was out of place. Annarion was beside the bed.
Mandoran leaned against the wall, arms folded, chin down.
He looked up the second Kaylin crossed the threshold.
His eyes matched Sedarias’s for color. Mandoran’s blue wasn’t one of fury or fear—not normally.
But Mandoran had traveled to Elantra with Annarion, arriving before the rest of the cohort. The two were close.
“Serralyn’s in the chancellor’s office right now,” Mandoran told her.
“She needs permission to access the library?”
“The librarians,” Mandoran corrected her. “Annarion isn’t as delicate in his use of magic as Serralyn is; he’s been trying
to examine the spell he believes his brother is under.”
Clearly, he’d had no luck.
Terrano’s hand was firmly on Annarion’s shoulder. Annarion looked—from the back—like his usual self. She hadn’t seen much
of him in the recent past. She hadn’t seen Nightshade either. If the siblings were still at war, they argued when Kaylin was
out of the house. Probably when she was at work.
“Can you force him to wake?” It was Sedarias who asked Kaylin, her voice cold. She turned as she spoke.
Kaylin met, and held, her gaze.
Mandoran grimaced, pulled himself off the wall that was holding half his weight, and approached Kaylin. “We probably need
to talk. Your cheek is bleeding,” he added.
Kaylin shrugged. “I don’t know enough about this damn mark to use it, if it can be used at all. But I’m pretty sure bleeding
isn’t a good sign.”
“Not generally, no.”
Andellen was nowhere in sight when they exited the room in which Nightshade lay.
“I have convinced him that bathing and changing would be wise,” Helen told her.
Mandoran sat, heavily, on a long divan.
“Did you expect this?” Kaylin asked, folding her arms as she slouched into the cushions beside him.
“No. Not this.”
“How’s Annarion doing?”
“The usual. He’s furious at his brother. He’s furious at himself for caring about what’s happened to his brother. He’s terrified
for his brother. He wants explanations. He wants justifications for his brother’s behavior that make sense and can be believed.
He’s not going to get those if his brother dies here. He wants to wake him up and shake him until his teeth rattle. That’s
one of yours, by the way. I’ve never heard teeth rattle—are they not attached?”
“I’ve never heard teeth rattle, either. It’s just a saying.”
“Sedarias is in the room. She was kind of hoping the whole pain and sense of betrayal would fade from Annarion in a few decades.”
He winced.
“That’s hope for you,” Kaylin replied.
“If that mark on your cheek doesn’t stop bleeding, she’d like you to avoid Annarion.”
“Why? He’s going to see it if you’re here, or Terrano is.”
“She thinks seeing it with his own eyes will probably be worse.” As Kaylin shrugged, Mandoran sat up. “You couldn’t touch
him.”
“I could touch him—” She exhaled. “No, if you mean the healing. I didn’t really try to push through. There’s something about
him as he is now that resists that. I don’t know if what’s enveloping him is what’s actually killing him—or if it’s keeping
him alive.
“Does Sedarias have any idea why Nightshade was attacked?”
“No. She’s up to her elbows in court politics these days—but she’s still an outsider. An’Mellarionne’s former allies are not
her allies. There are two cousins who are causing difficulty.”
Kaylin winced.
“There were three until a week ago, if that’s any consolation.”
It wasn’t. “You haven’t jumped into the political fray.”
Mandoran was silent. It was deliberate, unlike him.
Kaylin glanced at his stiff expression. “You’re right. The less I know, the better.”
“You’re only going to worry. Serralyn is staying well quit of the court, as is Valliant. But the rest of us, with the obvious
exception of Terrano, are now surveying our options. Sedarias has one very notable ally she can trust.”
“Teela.”
“An’Teela, yes. But Teela’s still intent on remaining with the Hawks. What she can do, she can do because she’s had centuries
to build a base of power. If she takes over the conflict, Sedarias will be rendered irrelevant. Mellarionne won’t be a concern;
it will become a vassal of Teela’s line. Neither of them wants that.
“So she’s made clear to all of the High Court that Sedarias is a valued ally—but she can’t do more than that without diminishing
Sedarias. Teela’s not happy,” he added, as if it needed to be said. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to keep Nightshade here. Andellen thinks it’s a good idea only because there was a second war band in the streets
of the fief, and getting through that was going to cause issues. Mostly us dying.”
Mandoran held up a hand. “What do you mean, second war band?”
Oh, right. Mandoran had probably been sent to get what information he could from Kaylin on behalf of Annarion and the rest of the cohort.
“Nightshade was leaving his fief. He was attacked on the edge of the border zone by fourteen armed and armored Barrani. We believe it was a war band. They’re dead,” she added, in case it was necessary.
“But whoever sent the Barrani didn’t believe fourteen armed and armored men could be trusted to finish the job. ”
“Well, they clearly couldn’t,” Mandoran replied.
“We were trying to decide whether or not to carry him back to Castle Nightshade when we caught sight of the second group.
Tiamaris was waiting for us in full Dragon form; if he hadn’t been, I think they’d’ve charged right in to stop us.”
“They wore no identifying insignia?”
“I’m not familiar with Barrani coats of arms. I’m not Barrani—and before you ask, I’m not familiar with human coats of arms
either. I thought he’d be safer here, and we were kind of pressed for time. Although I guess Tiamaris could have killed them
all if it came to that.”
Mandoran winced. “Probably better to have Nightshade here. Might even be better for Annarion. It’s certainly not going to
help the rest of us, though.”
“Has Terrano seen anything that might be a clue? Has Serralyn?”
Mandoran shook his head. “Torrisant is headed this way as well.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s really good at anchoring people who lose their forms, and we’re going to need it.”
“Kaylin,” Helen said as Mandoran rose. Both Kaylin and her housemate turned in the direction of the voice. Helen’s Avatar
didn’t materialize. “A messenger has arrived at the door.”
“From who?”
“They did not say. They left a letter and retreated. They did not require a reply.”
“Did it look important?”
“The messenger was Barrani.”
Kaylin rose. “I’ll come and get it.”
“No need,” Helen replied, materializing in person, a silver tray bearing a scroll case in her hands. “I do not suggest you touch it,” she added, looking in Mandoran’s direction.
“Specific enchant?”
Helen nodded. “Whoever sent this message didn’t want anyone else to read it. I’m not certain if anyone else would even be
able to touch it.”
“You can.”
“I serve Kaylin. And I am not Barrani.”
Kaylin picked up the scroll case. It wasn’t sealed. She opened it, twisting the top off; her arms tingled faintly. Normal
magic.
Lord Kaylin, the sender wrote.
It has been some time since we last crossed paths. I would like to see you in person. The Lake is restless, and there is much
to discuss. It has come to my attention that you are nursing the fieflord.
Information traveled far more quickly than Kaylin could predict.
Ynpharion was annoyed, but silent.