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Ariste’s smile was sharp, almost harsh; her answer was discordant, sounds jumbling together as if the notes were physical
and Kaylin’s question had shattered their ability to move smoothly between one and the next.
“I did. You would not, or should not, note a difference. Is your question an accusation, Lord Kaylin?”
Was it? She glanced briefly at Terrano’s profile; his expression was rigid. But his petulant desire to leave didn’t have the
hallmarks of actual anger—more the usual Terrano boredom. If he suspected that he’d been led—indirectly, by Ariste—into an
ambush that had almost killed him, it didn’t show.
Abel said nothing.
“It’s not an accusation, not yet. I’m gathering information, as you said. It’s what I was trained to do. Were there more of
your people in Ravellon before the fall?”
“Yes. Two. There were three of us, in the end; only three survived.
It is far, far too easy for those such as I to disintegrate into disparate parts, to become multiple but less.
I have chosen to aid Abel where it is possible; Abel can see and sense all of the spaces in which I might stand.
But his knowledge lacks refinement. I did not intentionally teach Terrano, but Terrano—as you must know—goes where he pleases, when he pleases.
He wishes to learn with a ferocity seldom seen in the young; his focus is singular.
“It was not my intent that he walk into danger. It was not my intent to teach him at all; he is too slight to bear the burden
of a life of pathways. But it was his intent to learn, regardless, as if the ability itself proved his worthiness. He is not
wise. But Abel desires that he survive to eventually become so.”
Kaylin exhaled. She believed Ariste because she did know Terrano. “I think other Barrani were there. Or Shadows in league with Barrani.”
“You were there as well. It is not a path that you could find on your own. Paths are created, Chosen. Guides exist. But there
are reasons you cannot simply walk them as you would your own streets. There is a reason that True Names exist in the form
and fashion they do now. Names have power.”
Kaylin’s frown shifted and deepened. “If a Barrani exists without a True Name—if they’ve shed that name—could they do what
Terrano can do?”
“Terrano is an extremely unusual case.”
“Not an answer, Ariste,” she replied, as if she were in the suspect briefing room and not in the High Halls.
“Not all answers are simple. They require knowledge that I was uncertain you possessed. You appear to be aware that some Barrani
can shed their names in some fashion.”
Kaylin nodded, thinking of her earliest days as a Hawk in the fief of Nightshade.
“It would be far easier for them to walk those paths—but even you do not believe that an entire war band of the Barrani kin
could have successfully shed their reliance on the force that defines and sustains them.”
She hadn’t been thinking about the war band.
She’d been thinking of the Barrani version of vampires—creatures that otherwise didn’t exist. And she’d been thinking, uneasily, of the fact that Terrano had left his name behind once and had returned to it because his attachment to his chosen family was deeper and stronger than his desire to be truly free.
But what he knew, the cohort knew; what he had learned, the cohort could learn. Mandoran could shift planes almost as easily
as Terrano. Annarion could, but Annarion’s control was less precise; it was more of a risk for him.
“Yes. Terrano is not in danger of losing himself. His friend is similar. They are who they are; they are firm in that. Anger
doesn’t drive them to walk roads they would never walk were anger not the driver. It is one of the dangers the immature present
to teachers such as I. I did not judge it wise for Terrano to learn what he did learn.
“But perhaps it is an opportunity. Had he not, we would not have known that those paths are being used by our enemies.”
Our.
“Understand that I wish my brethren to be free, as I am free. But I would not have them wander the High Halls at will until
they are. We were not always of one mind, but we shared traits and abilities.” Ariste’s expression was one of both consideration
and worry. “The choices my brethren might make would be impaired or controlled. It is entirely possible that they have taken
the nameless into their ranks.
“But it is possible that Barrani have summoned—and are using—Shadow as an inert power. There is an ease to the power granted
that none of the elements otherwise grant. Shadow is not singular. Its power is subtle. If the power drawn has allowed those
without strong will to accomplish their goals, they will seek more power. And that power is not inert. It is not without will.
They will lose themselves to the thrall of power; power will be the only thing that matters.
“The Barrani are a perfect, subtle hunting ground in that regard. Abel believes it is time for you to leave.” There was regret in the voice. “But should you desire it, and should he agree, you may visit at any time.”
Kaylin had a headache. It eased when Hope lowered his wing, but Hope remained upright on her shoulder, his gaze scanning the
Halls. What he could see and what Kaylin could naturally see were different; she knew it, but hadn’t thought about it too
much. She thought about it now.
Terrano was silent—but visible—as Abel escorted her to the exit. Severn and Teela were waiting. Severn seemed his usual self;
Teela’s eyes were murderous blue. There had been far too many things happening all at once.
Nothing was ever simple.
Nightshade could be a target because of a murky connection to the Consort. It was clear they had history.
But Nightshade could also be a target because he captained a Tower in the fiefs. He could be a victim of an attempt to unseat a captain. Absence of
a captain didn’t immediately render a fief vulnerable to Shadow—but it started the process, the protections inherent in the
Tower slowly giving way. That had happened in Barren before Tiamaris had taken the Tower he’d made his own.
But the Consort herself was under attack—and the attack coincided with the attempted assassination of Nightshade. As a Lord
of the High Court, it was the Consort who was the most important problem. As Kaylin Neya, tenant of Helen, it was Nightshade.
And Terrano had made things complicated by being himself.
Severn tapped her shoulder, and she shook herself free of the mire of worry. “On the bright side, Teela promised she wouldn’t
drive.”
Sedarias was waiting at the front door beside Helen, and one step behind.
Her eyes, as expected, were a terrible, martial blue—but her glare was reserved for Terrano.
Sedarias could make her august displeasure known very clearly through the namebonds the cohort shared—but she was old-fashioned. Fury was
meant to be shared in person.
Kaylin exhaled. Helen’s eyes were the human brown she had chosen to adopt; if Sedarias was enraged—and clearly, she was—Helen
didn’t consider it a pressing, immediate emergency. Kaylin, in fancy court dress, was of far more concern.
“It is not concern, or not only concern,” Helen said. “You’ve clearly had a trying day. It’s early for dinner.”
“You know I can eat at any time.”
“Will Severn be joining you?” Helen looked past Kaylin to the silent Severn. He hadn’t uttered a word since their departure
from the High Halls.
“I have work to do in the Halls of Law,” Severn said. “And I believe dinner won’t be served immediately.”
Helen glanced at the occupants of the foyer. She sighed. “No, probably not. Will you return?”
“If my work allows it, yes.” He smiled. “Kaylin is safe here. Terrano is safe here. Lord Nightshade is safe, or as safe as
his injuries allow.”
“Your presence is not necessary, no.” Helen smiled, the smile tinged with something sad. “But company is not simply a matter
of threat and necessity. I am certain Kaylin would be pleased if we fed you.”
Teela snorted. “I’m not sure she’ll notice given the current level of tension.”
Teela crossed the space to stand in front of Sedarias, leaving the question of Severn and dinner aside. Kaylin was certain
Severn would take that opportunity to head out, but she was now paying attention to Teela and Sedarias.
“I know he’s frustrating,” Teela said to Sedarias. “But I believe you will regret it should you actually kill him.”
“He doesn’t seem to care whether or not he survives—and if I’ve managed to prevent myself from committing very justifiable homicide for centuries, I don’t see why anything else should have the privilege.”
“I didn’t do anything this time.”
“You have clear, demonstrable evidence that stepping into certain places can—and will probably—get you killed. What were you
doing trying it in the High Halls?”
Oh.
“Sedarias,” Helen said, her voice serene. “Our guests cannot enter if you remain in the doorway.”
Sedarias stepped back before Helen had finished the sentence. Sedarias expected the respect due the ruler of Mellarionne.
She had to expect it, had to carry herself as if it was her rightful due. She had to punish those who declared themselves
her enemy by failing to tender that bare minimum of respect.
She never did that at home. She wasn’t even doing it now. It wasn’t respect and obedience she wanted from Terrano—it was his
survival.
Kaylin exhaled. “Exactly why were you trying to walk a plane you already knew our enemies are using?”
“Wouldn’t you?” Terrano asked.
“What does that mean?”
“You’re a Hawk, right? Hawks investigate crimes. Crimes have clearly been committed.”
“Nightshade is considered outcaste. If a very rich, very powerful lord wanted to send an army of war bands into the fiefs
to kill him, it wouldn’t be considered illegal.”
“I don’t really care what the Emperor—or the High Lord—considers a crime. Barrani are walking that particular plane. If they