16
“You know—you could have lied. It’s not like she wouldn’t have found out tomorrow.”
“What difference does a day make? She’s going to know anyway.”
“I really wish you could spend time on the inside of our heads right now. You’d never ask that question again.”
“But you’d just be putting it off.”
“Look, when something is screaming—or is going to scream—in your ear no matter what you say or do, one peaceful day is a blessing.”
“It’s not peaceful right now anyway. How much worse can it get?” Kaylin frowned. “And why is she upset about it? I mean—he’s
just visiting his sister.”
“You can ask her. Maybe she’ll spend her time shouting at you instead of shouting at the rest of us—who, I might point out,
had nothing to do with it.”
“I had nothing to do with it, either!” But she fell silent because it hadn’t occurred to her to check. She knew the Lord of the West March, the High Lord, and the Consort were close; they cared for each other in a way most Barrani families
didn’t. If the Consort’s ability to tend to her duties was failing, both brothers would be gravely concerned—for her.
And Kaylin had a way to check in on one of those brothers and hadn’t thought about it at all. The fact that everything else was also exploding wouldn’t serve as a good excuse where Teela was concerned. Kaylin wasn’t certain it served as a good excuse where she was concerned, either.
She and the Consort had had their disagreements—some of them bitter. Kaylin didn’t want the Consort angry again, at least not at her. But this was bigger than that. Even if the Consort had continued to refuse
to even look in her direction, Kaylin would have done everything she could to help. The future of an entire race was at stake.
Oh. That was why Teela was annoyed. If the Lord of the West March had arrived, without warning, in the High Halls, his presence
alone confirmed any rumors that the Consort was having difficulties.
If the Consort lost her ability to wake sleeping Barrani infants, it was Kaylin Neya who would be called in. And she’d go,
too.
Yvonne complicated things. There was no proof that Yvonne could step into the Consort’s shoes—but there were strong indications
that she could. That would mean it would be Yvonne, not Kaylin, who’d have to fill in. Yvonne, who had very little high-powered support
in the High Halls.
Yvonne, who had some questionable difficulties in her past—enough that Severn could consider them a risk. She didn’t know
what the risk entailed, but she was certain he wouldn’t put the entirety of the future Barrani people in danger. Probably.
Tiamaris came to meet them at the foot of the bridge on his side of the Ablayne. Tara wasn’t with him, and his eyes were a
dark orange, but he didn’t seem to be angry. “What are you getting yourself into this time?” On the other hand, his question was aimed directly at Kaylin. He did spare a glance for Mandoran and Fallessian, but not Terrano, who’d chosen to shed visibility.
Terrano accepted Bellusdeo, but he was never going to be entirely comfortable around Dragons. It was the downside of perfect
memory.
“I’m not getting myself into any trouble, and I’m only passing through to get to the Academia.”
“I was informed that you would require an escort.”
“As you can see, Severn’s here. Fallessian and Mandoran are also here. We won’t be entering the border zone—we’re heading
straight to the Academia.”
“Tara is concerned.” Which meant he was going to tag along no matter what Kaylin said. She accepted it. “She wishes to know
what you hope to learn at the Academia.”
“It’s too complicated to explain in the streets.”
“She wishes to know if this means you don’t fully understand it yourself.”
Once upon a time, Kaylin would have been furious. If Tara were a different person, she might still be furious. But Tara was
the heart of the Tower of Tiamaris, and she was often very literal. “I don’t. But there’s a thing I’ve learned in the Halls
of Law: questions—even the wrong ones—can lead to necessary answers. I don’t understand what’s happening.”
“Does this involve Lord Nightshade?”
Kaylin nodded. “Which is why I’m not supposed to be talking about it.”
“Do you intend to speak with the chancellor?”
“Not if I can avoid it, no. I’m going to speak with the Arbiters.”
“That is good.”
“Why?”
“Because Bellusdeo has practically chosen to camp out in the chancellor’s office since the attack in the border zone. Lord Emmerian has attempted to speak with the chancellor, but he was wary of Bellusdeo’s temper.”
“She’s not at her most reasonable when Shadow is involved. And if Barrani are somehow aligned with Shadow—and it’s reasonable
to expect some of them are at this point—she’s going to care about very little else. I think the people of the world she couldn’t
save might be like the Barrani in this case: they were somehow infected or allied with Shadow, and failure to recognize that
in time was catastrophic.
“I mean, it could be something else, but given Bellusdeo, that would be my guess.”
Mandoran added, “Maybe we’ll be lucky and Bellusdeo won’t be in the chancellor’s office.”
Be careful what you wish for was a phrase Teela had used a lot in Kaylin’s younger years as the Hawks’ official mascot. Being mascot was humiliating,
but it was, given her age, the only way she could travel with actual Hawks, those being Teela and Tain. In retrospect, there
was less humiliation and more nostalgia. Back then, nothing had been her responsibility, and therefore nothing had been her
fault.
She’d had the Marks of the Chosen when she’d first ascended the Hawklord’s Tower. But she hadn’t sworn an oath to the Imperial
Law, and she hadn’t been given her own beat and her own investigative duties. She’d been the subject of bitter argument, but
even that seemed distant and almost blurry: she knew the facts, but the fear and anger of that time were gone. She couldn’t
return to them, couldn’t feel them as viscerally, as completely, as she had when she’d been—at least legally—a child.
She wondered if Barrani memory included the emotions that occurred at the time of the events they could so completely recall.
As it was, Killian met their party at the height of the stairs used by guests and important people—although there was no rule saying students couldn’t use them. Kaylin exhaled as it became clear that Killian wasn’t alone. Standing beside him was an orange-eyed Bellusdeo.
“Lannagaros told me the Arbiters were expecting you.” Her arms were folded, her eyes orange. Flecks of red could be seen from
this distance, which wasn’t a good sign, but wasn’t unexpected, either. “Lord Tiamaris. Are you also expected?”
“Kaylin chooses to approach the Academia through the fief of Tiamaris—my fief, as you are well aware. My Tower worries about
her and asked that I make certain Kaylin reached her destination safely.”
Bellusdeo considered this. “Very well. I visited Lannagaros with a request that time be made for me in the Arbiters’ schedule.
He seemed to feel that this would require a few days. Kaylin, however, already has an appointment to speak with them.”
“Lord Bellusdeo,” Killian said, voice very quiet but extremely audible regardless.
“I am not playing games, Killianas.”
“No, you are not. But the Arbiters have judged Kaylin’s request to be an emergency.”
“The Academia fell because of Shadow. My concerns and my questions involve Ravellon. It is clear that some of the Barrani are actively involved with Shadow. How could my request be considered less of an emergency
than Kaylin’s?”
“Lord Bellusdeo, you are well aware that such requests are private. The Arbiters do not discuss them without permission from
those that have asked for their knowledge. I will ask you to allow Kaylin access to the Arbiters without demanding that you
be allowed to attend as well.”
Definitely deep flecks of red.
Tiamaris exhaled smoke.
Kaylin was suddenly very grateful that he’d chosen to escort her to the Academia. He, like Bellusdeo, was a Tower captain, a fieflord. His concern about Shadow and its dangers was personal as well.
But he understood—as Bellusdeo should—that the Academia was Lannagaros’s hoard. The rules of the Academia, as expressed by
the chancellor, weren’t wishful thinking on the chancellor’s part; they were the laws through which he ruled his domain.
Bellusdeo looked like she would argue, regardless.
No—she looked like she was considering the situation almost tactically. That wasn’t the Bellusdeo Kaylin knew. One of the
sisters must now be standing in front of the others.
“My apologies, Killianas,” this sister now said. “Lord Tiamaris is correct. We would never endanger Lannagaros’s hard-won
hoard, and we will not treat it with disrespect.” It sounded like she was speaking to the Bellusdeo who’d met them at the
height of the stairs, but it certainly caused Tiamaris to blink in surprise.
Bellusdeo when she first arrived at the top of the stairs had been the Bellusdeo Kaylin had known since they’d first pulled
her from the grip of the Shadows that had taken control of her Ascendant. She had met Logia, the sister involved in magic
and research. The person who spoke now was neither of the two.
She wondered, uneasily, if Bellusdeo had control of her own body. Or if it was her own body anymore. Bellusdeo had become, in one day, like the cohort—but with nine people, not twelve, and with a single
body.
“With your permission, Kaylin, we would be grateful if we could accompany you to the library.”
“Normally I’d say yes. I wouldn’t care. But this is . . . this is complicated and messy.”
“Are you worried for us?” The gold Dragon’s smile was slender, sharp, her eyes narrower around red-flecked orange.
“Not you, no.” She hesitated and then said, “Which of the sisters am I speaking to right now?”
“Kyrie,” she replied without hesitation. “Bellusdeo was not, perhaps, the most patient of our sisters.” Her smile, which was