07 #2
“Barely, and the trace is so faint I am certain I would not be able to sense it at all if I was not fully aware of what transpired.”
“Could you take it from me?”
Hope squawked.
“There is nothing, at the moment, to take. I can sense it but cannot see it in any of the planes you might approach.”
Kaylin nodded. Her hand no longer felt frozen and numb. “He lost too much blood.”
“He is with Sedarias at the moment, and I believe he is hoping you will somehow rescue him. Sedarias is most unhappy.”
She would be. Annarion was wrecked, and Terrano had almost died.
“Yes,” Helen said, although it wasn’t necessary. “There are dangers in loving and being loved. But the cohort has learned
to define themselves by the things they love, not the things they hate. In some cases, love leads to fear.” Kaylin was pretty
sure Helen was speaking about Sedarias.
“Not only Sedarias, but her fear is the sharpest, the harshest—and the most likely to lead to unfortunate consequences. Mortals
are not taught that love itself is weakness. Barrani, who must live longer lives, are. They learn this at the same time they
learn any of their abilities. Perhaps, because the cohort was young when they first met, the desire to love and be loved had
not yet been fully extinguished.” Helen exhaled. “In my time—and I speak not of tenants, but masters—the desire to love and
be loved survived in small and broken ways.
“Love became ownership. It was conflated, in its twisted way, with possession. Possession might arise from the need to protect—but it did not end there. That is not what has happened with the cohort yet.”
Yet.
“It is a worry. Should they fracture along lines of twisted love, it will not be safe for you to have them here as guests.”
Helen’s tone made clear what that meant: they would have to leave.
“Isn’t the decision mine?”
There was a long pause between the end of Kaylin’s question and the answer. “Yes.”
“. . . it’s not mine.”
“It is yours while you survive.” Helen’s eyes were obsidian—Kaylin hadn’t noticed the shift until it was complete. “If you
perish, you will have no say.”
It came to Kaylin then that Helen, her serene, gentle home, was angry.
“I am,” Helen said, although Kaylin didn’t ask out loud. “And I am struggling not to be so. The reason I chose you as a tenant
is also the reason you have the cohort as guests. It is the reason that Bellusdeo was offered chambers, along with her Ascendant.
It is the reason Imelda now makes use of my kitchen. Fallessian has helped her create an herb garden in the back of the house.
“You make your choices, and I approve of them inasmuch as I can. But of all the people gathered beneath this roof, you are
the most precious to me.”
“And Mrs. Erickson.”
At that, the obsidian receded from the Avatar’s eyes. “And Imelda, yes.” Helen exhaled. “I understand the importance of Terrano,
and I am angry, but I also understand that in some ways, my anger is blaming the victim, not the criminal. I admit a certain satisfaction
at Sedarias’s rage, which is why I have made no attempt to intervene.”
It was hard to stop Sedarias when she was on a tear.
“No,” Helen said, eyes once again darkening. “It is not. But we have so little time together, I do not want any of it to be
wasted.” Helen exhaled. “I will tell Terrano and Sedarias that you have returned.” She turned to Severn for the first time
since they’d arrived. “Will you join them?”
Severn nodded. “They can’t go overlong, regardless of the discussion topic. Kaylin is expected by the Consort. If you believe
her presence here is safe, it is unlikely the High Halls will refuse her.”
Kaylin headed straight to Terrano.
Terrano, however, was with Sedarias—and Annarion, and the unmoving Nightshade. Mandoran was leaning against the wall farthest
from where the rest of his cohort were standing.
It was an odd sight, if she thought about it; they were vibrating with tension, blue eyes, and that stillness that spoke of
the strain of preserving it—all in perfect silence.
Kaylin sometimes agreed with Terrano and Mandoran: her life with the cohort would be a lot easier if she knew their True Names. Today, however, she was grateful for that silence. And it would force the cohort’s various
members to actually choose the words that left their mouth. Almost no one regulated their thoughts that way; thoughts were private.
Kaylin had learned—and it had been hard in her first years with the Hawks as their unofficial mascot—that she couldn’t unsay words she’d spoken in anger. Words weren’t
illegal, but they were weapons. She couldn’t retract them any more than she could unwind time to unstab someone.
What had Teela said? Your ability to control your actions—words count, kitling—is a measure of self-control that implies you are struggling toward
adulthood.
She wondered as she waited for the cohort to fully include her in their interrupted discussion, if having people who could constantly hear her every thought meant that they’d always think of her as a child.
Mandoran was the first to break away, which wasn’t unusual. He pulled himself up off the wall and headed for Kaylin, glancing
at Severn. The cohort’s relationship with Severn was one of mutual respect and a lot more social distance than they ever offered
Kaylin.
“You probably don’t want to be in this room,” Mandoran said, heading toward the exit as if to lead them both to safety.
“Oh?”
“Annarion’s having trouble maintaining physical form.”
Kaylin frowned. Terrano’s trouble was voluntary. Annarion’s, a little less so.
“Because of his brother?”
“It involves his brother, yes,” Mandoran replied. It made his yes sound a lot like no.
“Where are you going?” Sedarias snapped.
“. . . or not.” Mandoran turned. “Kaylin has an appointment with the Consort this afternoon. She’s spent the morning running
around the fiefs and saving Terrano from combat injuries. She doesn’t have a lot of downtime.” He glanced in her direction
as if to ask if downtime was the right word; she nodded.
“She can’t possibly expect to visit the High Halls after what happened this morning?”
Kaylin would have instantly wilted if she were a flower. She turned to Sedarias. “I didn’t, no. But I’ve been informed that
I, as a Lord of the High Court, am expected.”
Terrano’s gaze traveled between Sedarias and Kaylin—but he moved closer to Annarion as it did.
“Serralyn’s been doing research,” Mandoran said as if Terrano hadn’t moved, which was fair, and as if Sedarias hadn’t spoken, which was, given the color of Sedarias’s eyes, almost suicidal.
“Ah, no. She asks me to tell you that she’s been talking with Starrante, and he’s been scrambling to find something in the library that might address whatever it was that happened with Terrano. And you.”
“Did he find anything?”
“No. But he feels the lack of information comes down to two things. First: you’re Chosen. The Chosen didn’t often keep journals,
but they kind of muck things up. Second: Shadow has always been an agent of change. Had Shadow been more like fire, Ravellon would never have fallen. In Starrante’s opinion.
“He feels that Shadow is involved, but possibly in what might be its base state.”
Kaylin said, “Later. It’s going to be really bad if whatever it is I’m carrying comes to light in the worst possible way.
Does he think it’s safe?”
“Serralyn points out that you carried Spike—a sentient Shadow—to no ill effect.”
That was true. Kaylin exhaled some of the worry. Worrying was pointless because worry or no, she still had to attend the Consort.
“Is there any way to get rid of the whole ‘lord of the court’ thing?”
“Yes.”
“. . . that doesn’t involve me dying?”
“Oh. Probably not. You could ask the Consort to ask the High Lord to have you made outcaste.”
“Which is dying.”
“Nightshade is outcaste, and he’s not dead.” The unsaid yet lingered in the air.
Sedarias had fallen silent, but she approached Kaylin and Severn as she did. It was beneath her dignity to shout across a
room just to be heard. “I am a lord of the same court,” she said. “Caution should be practiced, here. If the Consort wishes
your presence, it might be better for her to visit you.”
Ynpharion was instantly enraged. Tell her that she is beholden to the Lady, as you are; it is not her duty or position to offer the Lady advice for which she
has not asked.
But you agree with her.
I might have, once. But your Helen is not the equal of the High Halls; what your Helen considers a low risk is an acceptable
risk to the Lady.
“Not going to happen,” Kaylin replied, getting a face full of almost midnight eyes as Sedarias leaned in. She exhaled. “I
don’t know what the Consort wants to discuss,” she added, slipping from Elantran into High Barrani. “But given the current
circumstances, I think some of it is related to Nightshade, if tangentially.”
Annarion now joined the discussion, moving Terrano out of the way to do so.
“And I want to discuss what happened in the fiefs today, as well. There were two full war bands—that we know of. There might
be more.” Before Annarion could speak, she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “The Consort has called your brother by name
in the hearing of Lords of the High Court. Inasmuch as she can, I would guess that she has always supported him.
“If she has information, and we want to preserve Lord Nightshade, we need it.” She glanced toward the bed and the unconscious
Barrani lying on it. To her surprise, Annarion had carefully covered him with blankets.
“Did you change him into nightclothes?”
“Helen did,” Annarion replied. He lowered his head. Sedarias and Terrano swiveled toward Annarion; Mandoran didn’t. “If it
will help my brother at all, I would be grateful if you attended at the Consort’s pleasure.”
Ynpharion was unimpressed.
“I don’t know that she’ll have much to say about the method of attack—at least not the one used against Terrano. But I can
share that with her, as well. Her sources of information in the High Court are going to be way better than any of ours.”
“Teela’s are pretty good when she leverages them,” Terrano said.
Kaylin nodded. Fair enough.
“You know Teela intends to go with you, right?”
“I know she meant to, yes. But I also know Sedarias could be at risk if Teela steps in like this. The Consort believes it
unwise.”
“The Consort is younger than Teela, and, from all accounts, less political. You might be able to talk Teela out of it.”
Kaylin snorted.
“But none of us can. And to be fair, a third of us think Teela should be there.”
“Fine. Before you all start playing dress-up with me, the Consort said that it would be best if I appeared as a Hawk. So I’m
not changing.”
“We’ll see what Teela has to say about that,” Mandoran said, his voice far too cheerful.
Teela didn’t have much to say, and it all boiled down to no.
Kaylin wasn’t all that surprised when Teela showed up at the house in full court dress. She wasn’t surprised when Teela came
with a box that contained appropriate, Kaylin-sized clothing. She was slightly surprised when the Barrani Hawk glanced once
in Severn’s direction and nodded. Apparently, Severn was the compromise. He could dress as a Hawk. Kaylin couldn’t.
She tried not to resent it and failed. On the other hand, it annoyed Ynpharion, so there was an upside to what would otherwise
be a double standard.
The dress itself was a shade of green that matched and blended with Teela’s dress, which annoyed Ynpharion even more. Kaylin
doubted it would annoy the Consort.
“I’ve chosen shoes that are more practical for this outing,” Teela said, opening a box. To Kaylin, practical meant the Hawks’ kit: something you could really run in in a pinch.
Barrani skirts, while voluminous, never seemed to impede movement. She couldn’t argue against them on a practical level. But they’d always made her feel self-conscious, as if wearing the clothing itself made her a liar.
The boots shoved into Kaylin’s hands weren’t anything like her normal boots—but they didn’t have the heels that Teela’s boots
did. Kaylin found shoes like Teela’s painful to walk in; they always made her feel slightly off-balance. If she had to run
while wearing them, she’d probably trip and break a leg—which meant she’d have to throw them away if running became a necessity.
These, not so much. They were slender, and the uppers were soft, but the soles, while also narrow in appearance, were flat
against the ground.
“You think we might have to run and fight?” she asked as she slid her feet into them.
“You don’t?” Teela countered. She glanced at Severn. “Would you be more comfortable in court clothing?”
Severn shook his head.
“Very well. You might have noticed the cohort is currently enmeshed in multiple disagreements. Attempts on Nightshade’s life
are not uncommon, although it’s been a century or two since a concerted, credible effort has been made. What I don’t understand
is both the timing and the method.
“Serralyn has continued to speak with Starrante; the Arbiter may ask you to visit the library in person, depending on the
outcome of our meeting with the Consort.”
Kaylin nodded.
“Are you ready? We’re running slightly late.”
“What this means,” Terrano said, his voice not accompanied by his physical body, “is that Teela will be driving.”