10 #2
“Indeed. I would have to be chosen—not as you are Chosen, of course. Familiars choose and accept their masters, or at least,
that was our understanding in times long past.”
“I didn’t choose to bear these Marks,” Kaylin snapped. “And I didn’t choose the familiar, either.”
“Perhaps that is the secret to becoming someone who can be chosen.” The voice was soft, almost introspective. “The weapon Severn bears chose him.”
Severn shook his head. “It chose to test, An’Tellarus. I passed. They are not the same, although perhaps to those without
knowledge they appear to be.”
“I am not threatening the girl.” An’Tellarus’s brows rose in brief annoyance. “Do I look as if I am dissatisfied with life?
I explain, that is all. I could not pass the test of the Lake. I would never have been granted the Marks of the Chosen. I
was not chosen as wielder of one of The Three—and I did try, but not more than once.
“I learned to accept my place.”
“Your place,” Teela said, eyes very blue, “appears to be almost the apex of power for one who is not High Lord.”
“Yes. What I have, I built. I built it. I accept that I will never be chosen—and that, Chosen, is the actual answer to your question. I have never been found worthy enough; I would not expect that to change. And now, I feel no need to lower myself to pursue it. I am Tellarus. Those who have been chosen—and loved—in the past are memories and dust. I remain.”
Severn’s gaze was welded to An’Tellarus.
“And perhaps I better understand why children like you—or An’Teela, or Severn—have somehow stumbled into the privilege you
own. I understand why Yvonne is considered special. Look at your familiar. He sees in her something that the Lake might see.”
“In my experience,” Teela said, “we are never too old to feel the echoes and shadows of envy and longing.”
“That is true, in a fashion. But we are surely too old to build our lives around those childish yearnings? But perhaps not.
You were chosen by Kariannos. Perhaps satiating that desire was enough to quench it.”
“Or perhaps it was enough to drive home the knowledge that to be special is not always easy—or survivable.”
“I respectfully agree with An’Teela,” Kaylin said.
“When you have what others would desperately want, perhaps you have much in common.” The reply was dry; there was an edge
in An’Tellarus’s tone. But Kaylin had a suspicion that there was always an edge in that woman’s voice. Had she not seemed
genuinely fond of Yvonne, and genuinely protective, Kaylin would have politely and respectfully stayed the hells away.
If she could get away. She hadn’t walked into this Barrani Lord’s apartment of her own volition. But Yvonne was here.
And Kaylin was certain Yvonne was the one who had at least passed whatever preliminary tests the Lake could give. Hope squawked—a
happy, quiet sound, very unlike the sounds he made at Kaylin—in a crooning welcome as he continued to hover inches from Yvonne’s
face. He didn’t even bite her fingers or snap at her when she hesitantly offered her left arm.
It shouldn’t have been a surprise when Hope landed on that arm. It was, but it shouldn’t have been.
“Can you understand him?” Yvonne asked, although she didn’t take her eyes off Hope.
“Sometimes.”
“Only sometimes?”
“Can you understand what he’s saying now?”
Yvonne shook her head. “But An’Teela and An’Tellarus did.” She looked embarrassed and pained. “I’m not knowledgeable enough.”
Hope squawked.
“I think he’s trying to tell you that it’s not about knowledge, and if it makes you feel any better, the Dragons understand
him when he chooses to speak at them.”
“To them?”
“At them. Definitely at. Mostly, he sounds like an angry bird to me.”
He definitely swiveled his delicate head and glared. And squawked, proving Kaylin’s point.
“Perhaps you were chosen because you have no innate sense of reverence or respect,” An’Tellarus observed, shaking her head
slightly. “I would ask that you not infect poor Yvonne with your attitude—she is struggling to find her moorings in the court
as it is. But perhaps the two of you could speak about your familiar and your Marks; I believe An’Teela and I have things
to discuss. Severn, you may attend us.”
“She’s always like that,” Yvonne said, when Kaylin’s companions left the room in An’Tellarus’s wake. “But beneath that hard
surface, she can be genuinely caring.”
Kaylin was pretty certain she would never be the recipient of that care. “Where did you meet her?”
“She came to the West March when I was living there.” The color of Yvonne’s eyes shifted as she spoke. “She helped my friend—I
mean, An’Sennarin. I didn’t have family that survived in the West March, so Ollarin offered me a place to stay here.”
“And you don’t regret it?”
Yvonne chuckled, a rueful sound. “Only when I’m failing to learn whatever it is I’m being taught. Which happens a lot. But
An’Tellarus is better with me than she is with An’Sennarin. He really gets the sharp edge of her criticism.”
“Has he been An’Sennarin for long?”
Yvonne shook her head. “Not too long, no. He grew up in the West March as well. We were close when we were young—he had no
intention of ever coming east to the High Halls.” Yvonne lowered her head, and Hope crooned at her. She lifted her head instantly
in surprise, staring at the familiar. “Are you sure?”
Squawk.
Hope and Kaylin were going to have a serious talk when they got home.
“Ollarin was gentle. He worked in the West March, not as a guard, but as an artist and a gardener. He never wanted to come
east. The High Halls aren’t the right place for people who have little obvious power in the West March. People like me.”
“But you’re here.”
“Hope says it’s safe for me to tell you this.” She glanced at the familiar still standing on her arm, and Hope nodded. “An’Tellarus
would be very, very angry.”
Squawk.
“She really isn’t as terrifying as she looks.”
Squawk.
“Yes, I know. Even if she thought of me as a possible enemy, she’d never expect I would be a credible threat. And she’s right.”
Squawk.
“Please, please don’t tell her I said that!”
“Hope.”
Squawk.
“If it were my choice, we would never have come here at all.” Kaylin frowned at Hope.
“Why did you come?”
“I was summoned.” Barrani politics gave Kaylin a headache, and no matter what she was called in this place, she wasn’t Barrani. “I was summoned by the Lady. I could not say no.”
“Of course not!”
“Before I could make my escape, I was invited to attend An’Tellarus. By the High Halls.”
Yvonne looked genuinely sympathetic. “You really haven’t been having a great day, have you?” To Kaylin’s surprise, she spoke
Elantran.
“It pretty much sucked. I’m hoping it gets a bit better before it ends.” She exhaled. “Have you spoken with the Consort?”
Yvonne shook her head emphatically. Her eyes were blue, now.
“Let me guess. An’Tellarus told you you should avoid any contact if avoidance wouldn’t cause offense.”
Yvonne nodded.
“She’s wrong. She might be right about every other Barrani in these cursed Halls, but she’s wrong about the Consort.”
“She’s the Consort.”
“Yes—but she’s the Lady, as well, and that’s more important. She doesn’t care about politics—I mean, compared to An’Teela
or An’Tellarus—as much as she cares about her duties to the Lake and the Barrani people. Hers were practically the first green
eyes I saw among the Barrani I’ve met. Teela’s eyes are generally shades of blue. I can’t recall the last time I saw green
in them—maybe in the West March.”
“You’ve been to the West March.”
“Don’t get me started—Teela hates it when I complain and whine. And she can hear through walls, I swear.”
Yvonne shook her head. “I can talk about myself,” she said after a long pause.
“But I shouldn’t talk about An’Tellarus or An’Sennarin.
If you end up being a danger to me, I’ve made a mistake, and I’ll pay.
But they wouldn’t make the same mistake and shouldn’t have to suffer.
I wish I could just go home,” she added, her voice dropping to a whisper.
“An’Sennarin doesn’t want you to go home?”
“He wouldn’t have been practically enslaved if it weren’t for me. If I’d died, he’d’ve been free. My parents did die trying
to protect me. They weren’t the only ones. But the An’Sennarin of the time had some claim to our service, as branch families
of his great tree.” This was said with a bitter twist of the lips.
“This is Ollarin’s way of making certain that I can’t be used like that again. An’Tellarus supports him—at least so far. That’s
why she’s trying to teach me how to be a real Barrani. But . . . I am a real Barrani. This isn’t my place. My mother told me—always—that it was important to know and accept my place. And I did. I did it enough to know that my place isn’t here.”
“Would he let you go back to the West March if you asked?”
Yvonne swallowed. “. . . I think so.”
“But you haven’t asked.”
“So much happened because of me. So much. I think sometimes he looks at me and he sees an echo of my parents, of the people
who died at the hands of the previous An’Sennarin. He made friends here, outside the High Court. But they were killed—and
many, many of their people brutally murdered afterward.
“I think he thinks his birth was the cause of all the deaths. His birth, his gift. And I try to remind him that it wasn’t
him. He didn’t kill my family. He didn’t kill his friends. Sometimes, when we’re together, I can see a hint of who he used
to be. It’s still in there.
“Sometimes I think that’s so important, I’m happy I’m here. And sometimes I think An’Tellarus might be right: it’s that part
of Ollarin that needs to wither and die. Because if he’s still that person, the High Halls will destroy him.”
“I assure you,” a familiar voice said, “that is untrue. I will not destroy Ollarin.” In the wake of his words, the Avatar appeared, standing a respectful distance from where Yvonne and Kaylin were sitting.
Yvonne would have fallen over backward if she hadn’t been Hope’s perch.
“I didn’t—I didn’t mean you!”
“He knows that,” a second, far more familiar voice said. “He’s teasing you.”
Yvonne stood.
“I’m really sorry,” Kaylin told her, voice soft. “But the second voice is a friend of mine. Terrano—show yourself, please.”
“No way. These are An’Tellarus’s halls. If I take a step into them, they won’t be able to find all my body parts.”
“It’s okay,” Yvonne told Kaylin. “I mean, even if he introduced himself properly, I wouldn’t recognize his family line.”
“Why are you here?”
“I was bored?”
“I mean it, Terrano.”
“Fine. Abel thought I might be helpful.”
“You? Here? In An’Tellarus’s domain—the home of a woman that even Teela is treating with genuine respect? Did you piss him
off?”
Yvonne’s stiffness faded as she listened to the Terrano she couldn’t see and the Kaylin she could. “Ummm, why are you calling
the Avatar Abel?”
“It was shorter than the name he actually preferred—which was way way way too much of a mouthful.”
Yvonne was shocked. “. . . and he’s okay with that?”
“Well, he hasn’t expelled me or locked me out. Or in. I think he’s fine.”
“It is interesting, I confess,” the Avatar said. “And perhaps my long inward focus has given me the opportunity to reassess
my protectorate. I find Terrano fascinating in small doses.”
“In larger doses?”
“He causes confusion and chaos. And I apologize for the interruption, but except in cases where ambitious fools attempt to harm or control the Lake, I do not destroy my inhabitants.” He smiled at Yvonne. “What are you carrying?”
“Lord Kaylin’s familiar. With her permission!”
“With his permission,” the Avatar said, but his smile deepened. “I believe your discussion was relevant to our issues or we
would not have felt it germane to intervene.”
“How so?” Kaylin asked.
“I believe you were attempting to tell Yvonne that she should, if possible, speak to the Consort directly. An’Tellarus might
allow it.”
She won’t, Severn said; he’d been listening, his presence so calm and quiet she’d been unaware of it at all.
A thinner voice said, I would advise against it. Ynpharion.
Kaylin shook her head, which probably looked strange. I think it’s important for the Consort—because I think Yvonne is the chess piece on the board that could be used to truly
threaten the Lady. And Yvonne herself isn’t threatening. It’s probably why the Lake would be willing to grant her entry.
I’d advise against it, Severn continued, as if no other voice—even Kaylin’s—had interrupted him.
Something in his tone was off, wrong somehow.
She wouldn’t be a danger to the Consort.
Probably not. Not intentionally. What An’Tellarus hasn’t told you is that the heart of the green’s test—of me, for the weapon—was
Yvonne herself. If Yvonne is somehow involved, it means Ollarin didn’t or hasn’t rooted out the parts of his extended family
that were firmly under his predecessor’s control.
What does that mean?
Yvonne was removed from her home at the behest of Ollarin’s predecessor—as was Ollarin himself. They used or invoked Shadow
in some fashion—and Yvonne would have been trapped and consumed by it had she not been saved by the green.