15 #2
“It’s an affectionate word. I just wouldn’t have expected Barrani to like her.”
“When they don’t like you, you mean?”
Chagrined, Kaylin nodded. It was true. Fallessian had been a quasi-tenant, but he’d avoided any interaction with Kaylin unless
Sedarias had called for a dinner meeting with all hands on deck. But he sought out Mrs. Erickson and even offered to help
her in the kitchen—as if baking was a skill he really wanted to learn.
“Serralyn would like you to drop by the Academia at your earliest convenience.”
“Does that mean, like, tomorrow, or is this a right now situation?”
“It’s now,” a cheerful—and invisible—Terrano said. “But she wants you to eat first.”
“I think it would be better for all concerned if Kaylin visited tomorrow. She has been a touch short on sleep as well as food,”
Helen said in her most severe voice.
“Nightshade is one of the concerns,” Terrano pointed out.
“She cannot heal him now, and lack of sleep will not increase her chances. Tomorrow would be preferable.”
Kaylin said nothing. Her stomach didn’t growl—but that was because Helen was right. She existed in a state of emergency, and
food had negative appeal. But she could eat far worse food in far worse conditions. Dinner was probably the smart option.
And if Teela and Sedarias were holed up somewhere, it would be a little bit more relaxed than it could have been.
Mandoran was already seated. Fallessian was not; he carried a large tray, walking two steps behind Mrs. Erickson, whose walking
speed had never been fast. Torrisant was seated, and to Kaylin’s surprise, Karian was also seated. Karian, of the cohort,
was the most invisible member. He came at Sedarias’s command—or request—and left when she left.
He didn’t speak much. He did participate in the cohort’s infrequent puppy piles, as Kaylin called them; he seemed to like the physical contact with his chosen kin. But he had none of Mandoran’s warmth or Terrano’s inherent chaos. His eyes were blue; he had taken the seat beside Torrisant.
Severn had taken the seat beside Kaylin.
“If you’re just going to hover,” Kaylin snapped at Terrano, “you could at least join us. It’s not like Sedarias doesn’t know
where you are.”
“I’ve been testing something,” Terrano replied, becoming visible.
“What, exactly, are you testing?”
“Helen’s defenses. She knows where I am—of course she does—but we’re trying to see if I can remain physically unseen.”
“How’s that working out for you?”
He flopped gracelessly into the chair on Kaylin’s other side. “We want to make sure she can see all intruders, so it’s working out pretty well so far. But she’s aware that my thoughts are a loud,
screaming beacon, and she may be relying on them a bit too much.”
“You’re not afraid that people will try to come and attack Nightshade while he’s here, are you?”
“Not Nightshade specifically, no. Any of us. You, even.”
Mandoran snorted. “It’s you, of course. You won’t talk about the Consort. But you have talked about your experiences with the Lake. It’s not hard for people as suspicious as Sedarias to put two and two together
and arrive at a very precise four. She is worried about Nightshade, because of Annarion. But without you, we’ve got no home. We’re here because you’re Helen’s tenant.
But you’re her tenant until you die. When you do, she’ll find a new tenant—and the new tenant isn’t likely to want a bunch
of Barrani as permanent guests.”
So it wasn’t actually about Kaylin’s safety.
“And if you die because of this, Teela will murder half of us,” he added, with a cheeky grin that was close to Terrano’s norm. “Teela’s almost certain you’re right: the warriors didn’t descend on Nightshade all at once. Which means this has been planned for some time.”
“They’d have needed two war bands to bring him down.” But was that true? Just one man, with a poison dart or an ability to
convey a poisonous magic, would have been enough. It wasn’t the fight that had laid him low; it wasn’t the battle that had
put him into this suspended, unreachable state.
Kaylin frowned. “Helen?”
“Yes, dear.”
She got up as Mrs. Erickson reached the table and pulled out the chair meant for the older woman. Fallessian would have done
it, but his hands were full of dinner.
“Do things persist between planes? I mean—if I find a book in one of them, can I bring it here?”
“Yes, if the book was created here. Many sorcerers of old were reputed to place their research notes and books in alternate
dimensions.”
“Are those alternate dimensions similar to what Terrano does? I mean—do they exist as spaces adjacent to our plane, or are
they part of our plane, just . . . pockets?”
“That is an excellent question,” Helen said with genuine approval.
“If a poison could be concocted—magically—in a world or place with slightly different rules, could its effects extend?”
“Yes—that is what we would expect. The body itself is part of our world, and the injuries sustained on that body would therefore
be part of our world.”
“Every time Mandoran has pulled me to safety by taking me one half step outside of our world, my Marks were visible. Even
in the path that we took to reach Terrano so I could heal him, I could see them.”
Helen nodded, frowning.
“If they weren’t attached to me, do you think they’d be active at all?”
“That is a question for the Arbiters,” Helen replied after much thought. “But what makes you ask that?”
“I couldn’t reach Nightshade on the other plane. But . . . the cohort could clearly speak with each other through the namebond.
I could see the Marks of the Chosen. I’m asking questions as they occur to me because all we’ve got are questions, and it’s
only when we start asking the right ones that we might reach answers.”
“Serralyn agrees. Loudly and emphatically. I know it’s been a long day—but if you were willing to head to the Academia, the
Arbiters are available.”
“Will they be available tomorrow?” Kaylin asked. She could see Helen’s eyes were now obsidian.
“Student hours—and professor hours—are like office hours: they end at dinner. Exceptions can be made for the chancellor in
emergencies.”
“Do they consider this an emergency?”
Mandoran glanced across the table at Fallessian. “Bellusdeo does.”
“. . . is she there?”
“No—but she was there, and she wasn’t subtle or quiet about her visit. You might remember that she ran into us when we were
in attempted pursuit of Lord Nightshade’s attackers?”
Kaylin nodded.
“Well, she’s not happy about the use of the border zone—at this point, she’s not happy with its existence. Apparently, her
own Tower didn’t have satisfactory answers, so she headed to the Academia to speak with the chancellor.”
“She’s not still there, though.” Ugh. “You know Hawks are trained in a number of things. Basic weapon skills. Endurance in case we have to give chase. Investigation of crime scenes. Speaking to witnesses when we want answers. Handling evidence.
“Self-defense. And right now, I really, really want to punch someone.”
“Mandoran,” Helen said, the word slightly edged. “Kaylin is not Barrani. She needs sleep. I will inform your sergeant that
you will be working for the Dragon Court—in the morning.”
An argument seemed to be brewing within the cohort when Kaylin finished eating and left the table. She therefore finished
eating quickly. If she slept, she could wake up early; if she argued, given Helen’s expression, she was likely to lose, in
which case she’d go to bed later, and rehash the argument.
She knew when to surrender. But was now really the time?
“Yes,” Helen said.
Sleep was broken, but not by external noise. If the cohort had argued their way through to morning, they kept it to themselves.
Had Nightshade worsened, she was certain she’d know. Helen might demand that the cohort let her sleep, but she wouldn’t forbid
them from interrupting that sleep in an emergency.
Then again, everything felt like an emergency right now.
Kaylin swung her legs out of bed, fumbling in the dark before Helen brought the lights up and she could see her way to her
clothing. She dressed in her normal work clothing, took enough care to make sure the buttons and buttonholes weren’t mismatched,
and headed down the stairs. Hope grumbled but allowed himself to be picked up and dumped on her shoulders.
Mandoran was waiting for her in the foyer. Terrano was with him, and to her surprise, Fallessian was also present.
There was no sign of Sedarias or Teela, no sign of Torrisant or Karian.
“We’ve all got wicked headaches,” Terrano said as Kaylin opened her mouth. “We’d appreciate if you didn’t add to them. In case it’s not obvious, we’re going to the Academia with you. If you don’t want us, Sedarias and Teela will accompany you instead.”
“That’s probably the best threat I’ve ever heard you make,” she told Terrano.
“It’s not making my headache any better,” he replied—but he smiled and winced at the same time.
Kaylin didn’t want to argue with the cohort. If Sedarias and Teela were in agreement, she had three of the cohort as escort.
Helen could keep them in the house, allowing Kaylin to escape, but it wouldn’t last. The attempt was the last thing Annarion needed.
“We’re to avoid the border zone,” Terrano said.
“The border doesn’t lead to the Academia.” She frowned. “The streets that lead to the Academia are solid; they’re not border-tinged.
And in theory we can get to the Academia from any of the fiefs—using non-border streets.”
Terrano nodded in confirmation, as if he’d checked this personally. He probably had.
“Does that make any sense to you? I mean, the Academia exists in the fiefs—but how does it exist? It’s geographically almost
impossible. If we tried to place it on a normal map, it would sit across two of the fiefs—and it doesn’t. If we don’t take
the streets designated as Academia streets, we’d never reach it at all. We’d hit the border zone, and we’d cross it into the
next fief.