08 #3
him—and she will, because Annarion would be shattered if his brother died.
“The High Halls can protect you.”
“If the High Halls were capable of that, I would not be in this condition.” The Consort’s expression was thoughtful.
“I thought it was probably magic, but . . . it’s not just that. It might be a magical poison.”
Teela stepped forward. She didn’t push Kaylin out of the way, but she took up position around the small circular surface closer to the Kaylin side of the table.
“We are investigating, Lady,” she said. She offered the Consort an extremely elegant, extremely correct bow.
“But we believe the attackers, or those who orchestrated the attack, are moving on several fronts; they appear to be taking advantage of the border zones between the fiefs.”
The Consort’s eyes were now almost the same color as Teela’s. “You believe they are entering forbidden territory.”
“We believe it possible.” Teela exhaled. “The outcaste Dragon has infiltrated parts of Elantra before; his form appears to
be mutable. He served for a time on the Aerian court; he has done damage in the fiefs, although our information in that regard
is, by nature, incomplete. The fieflords share information when they believe there is some activity coming out of Ravellon, but what is shared is chosen by those lords.”
“Do you believe that information to be reliable?”
“Oddly, yes. The fieflords captain the Towers; the Towers exist solely to protect the barrier that prevents Shadow from escaping
Ravellon. Where Shadow is concerned, I believe they offer as much information as they can without compromising their own rule.”
“And have any of those lords offered news about people entering the heart of the fiefs?”
“Suspicions, yes. Were it a single individual, I might discard the information; I might assume the Dragon Outcaste is once
again acting. He is not of Shadow; he cannot be detected as Shadow. But if he is involved, he is not, in our opinion, the instigator at this time.
“Lord Nightshade was attacked. He cannot be healed by the Chosen. You were not attacked—but you cannot be healed by the Chosen.
You have not, to my knowledge, left the High Halls or your own seat.”
“Which means Barrani are involved.”
Teela nodded. “I don’t have to tell you that there are far, far too many Barrani who would like to see Nightshade fall—and the sword he carries returned to the High Court, where it might choose a new wielder. He is outcaste; his death is mandated.”
“By a previous High Lord,” the Consort replied, an edge of warning in her words.
“It’s the sword that preserved him,” Kaylin said, hoping to dull that edge a little—or at least distract its wielder. She
liked the Consort, and she considered Teela family. She didn’t want to see them fight because of the stupid decision of a
High Lord who was dead.
“Pardon?”
“We’re pretty sure Meliannos preserved his life. I can’t heal him—but the damage the magic or poison caused appears to have been suspended. I don’t think
the sword would choose anyone who was directly responsible for his death.”
The Consort’s brows rose. “What do you know of our swords?”
“I know they’re called Dragonslayers, if that’s helpful. I know they’re magical. I sort of suspected they have egos, but that’s
never been confirmed, and Teela bit my head off once because I asked impertinent questions.”
“Disrespectful questions, kitling.”
“Aren’t they the same thing?”
“At court, impertinence can get you fined or embarrassed. Disrespect might be cause to end your life. There is very little
study and research extant about The Three, and before you even consider it, do not task the librarians of the Academia with
research in their archives of forgotten and ancient lore.”
Given the color of her eyes, she meant it. “Even this much you should know better than to discuss.”
“But—it’s the Consort. She’s not his enemy!”
“We live forever. She is not his enemy now. Nor am I, or my kindred. But that does not mean the possibility does not exist in a future we cannot immediately foresee.”
Teela exhaled.
The Consort gestured, and an empty chair appeared. “Please forgive my poor manners, An’Teela.”
Teela nodded and sat. The hilt of her sword could be seen as she arranged her skirts—no doubt a deliberate, graceful reminder.
“You believe the timing suspect? Do you consider it possible that a faction aligned against the current An’Mellarionne has
been forced into play?”
“I believe it is a possibility. I believe it is possible that the outcaste Dragon has some hand—subtle and not commanding—in
this. And I believe that the Arcanum’s members are involved. I have asked for a meeting with Lord Evarrim to discuss the possibility.
“How many people are aware of your affliction?”
The Consort said, “As you must guess, no one of whom I am aware.”
“Then let me ask a different question. Are there any Barrani who have sent their daughters to visit the Lake recently?”
“As you are aware, families sponsor children to take the tests to become a potential Consort frequently. But yes. Three.”
“Are you aware of the results?”
The Consort looked pained. “I cannot divulge results. I would break that law if it became necessary, but that information
cannot come from me. The position as Lady is not political; it has been agreed that politics must be subservient to the very
future of our people, and throughout time, that has more or less proven true.”
Barrani politics were never entirely in abeyance. Politics of necessity meant no one attempted to kill the Consort. Even were
her condition to be known, there would be a high, high cost to the attempt.
But to render her incapable without taking her life? To force her from her seat because she could no longer do the duties for which she was treated with such reverence?
That felt Barrani through and through.
But if one of the families believed they had a daughter that could replace the Consort, it was exactly the type of thing they might do.
You are becoming more accustomed to subtle Barrani politics, Ynpharion said with a grudging hint of approval.
“How long has it been?” Kaylin asked the Consort, her voice softer than Teela’s. “How long has it been since the Lake could
no longer hear you?”