Cast in Deception

by Michelle Sagara

  Candallar, Severn said.

  “You think?”

  Everyone glanced in Kaylin’s direction; she flushed, realizing she had spoken out loud. Severn’s presence was so much a given during investigations of any kind, she’d responded automatically.

  I’ll pass that information on immediately.

  This time, she nodded; she was, for the moment, grateful that he had remained in Elantra.

  That makes one of us.

  That’s the fief, Kaylin said, confining her words to the inside of her head, but not the fieflord.

  Concur.

  You know who he is?

  I’d like to make certain before you speak with the Lord of the West March.

  The Lord of the West March and I are going to be speaking about war bands, Dragons and politics.

  She could almost see him cringe—and he rarely did that. Avoid politics, if possible. If the Consort and the High Lord were unaware of the gathering of the war band, it’s likely the Lord of the West March was unaware.

  Kaylin thought of the Consort’s warning, passed to her through Ynpharion.

  If he wanted you—or Bellusdeo—dead it would be almost trivial for him.

  Not if he didn’t want to add political complications for his brother, the High Lord. Not if he didn’t want to piss off his sister. I don’t know why, but the cohort’s freedom is causing, or has caused, political difficulties for him, personally. She grimaced.

  “Kitling,” Bellusdeo said, “you even think loudly.”

  “Says the woman whose racial voice could deafen the entire Halls of Law—which is why it’s not generally legal to use it.”

  Let me inform the Hawklord of our current information in regard to Candallar.

  Tell Teela.

  Teela is currently in residence in your home. She is keeping Annarion and Mandoran in check, but only barely. It’s good they’re here. If they weren’t, she’d’ve joined the Consort.

  She’s worried.

  Understatement.

  Ugh.

  Don’t leave the Hallionne unless you have no choice.

  Don’t leave the city. I’ve got a Dragon and a familiar for backup. They’re not you, but in a pinch, they’ll do. And I need you there. If we manage to get out of the Hallionne and the West March, in more or less one piece, I’d like any welcoming party to be jailed or disrupted before we arrive. Oh—and can you mentioned Terrano to the boys?

  Not if you don’t want Teela to know.

  Did she? Terrano never, ever tried to hurt her.

  He did try to hurt you. Has Teela ever struck you as the forgiving type?

  No—but he didn’t hurt me, and the only reason he’s here is to help the rest of the cohort. I’m willing to trust him.

  I am not telling Teela that.

  Darn. I was hoping you’d get the lecture out of her system before we get home.

  Willing to die for you.

  But there are fates worse than death?

  Pretty much.

  * * *

  Bellusdeo was not angry. She was—to Kaylin’s eye—both alert and amused. The former made perfect sense. The latter, not so much.

  Although both Barrani lords were blue-eyed, they seemed to take their cues from the Dragon; they were as relaxed as their eye color indicated they could be. Terrano appeared to be clueless, but that might be unfair; he was keeping Spike company. The familiar was draped, once again, across Kaylin’s shoulders. He looked, if anything, bored.

  Alsanis opened the doors at the end of the great hall, and led the small delegation into the Hallionne’s interior. There, he escorted them through arches that seemed too slender to actually bear the weight of ceiling for long, and into a small dining room. Or parlor. If the latter, it was a Barrani space; it opened to sky. It didn’t open to the sky of the West March, however.

  “I don’t know why you’re so annoyed,” Bellusdeo said to Kaylin, as she took a wide comfortable chair.

  “I don’t know why you’re not.”

  “Dragon. This is not my natural domain, and the Barrani here are, in theory, somewhat old school. We’re all Immortal, and we all have long, long memories.”

  “Someone wants you dead.”

  “And this is news how? It won’t be the first time an attempt has been made. Oddly, I find it refreshing.”

  Kaylin stared at her. On her shoulder, the familiar snorted.

  “It isn’t subtle. It’s full-on, out in the open, hostility. It isn’t my fault, and it isn’t my responsibility. It is also, you must admit, somewhat clever; they had little time to craft a response to my arrival—and although forced to react with speed, they also did so with intelligence.” She smiled, showing elongated teeth, a sign that she wasn’t as sanguine as she sounded. “My own kin would just fly down and scorch the earth and everything that surrounded it.”

  “The Emperor—”

  “My kin, not his.” Tea appeared; it was the tea that Helen habitually made. Although the decor was nothing like the interior Helen had created—at least for the rooms Kaylin had free access to—Alsanis was attempting, as he could, to make them feel at home. Given the situation, she appreciated his attempt, but felt it was misguided.

  “Look,” she finally said, turning to Lirienne, “was this your idea?”

  His smile, like Bellusdeo’s, was martial but otherwise undisturbed. “Were it, do you think I would have escorted you to Alsanis? He is the only guarantee of Lord Bellusdeo’s safety in the West March.”

  “That’s not a no.”

  “If it will calm you at all, no. This was not my idea. And while I admire Lord Bellusdeo’s point of view, I myself feel far less sanguine about it.”

  It was Nightshade who spoke next, not Ynpharion, as Kaylin had almost expected. He will not be sanguine. To summon a war band is the act of a lord, not a liege; If this truly did not originate with the Lord of the West March, someone has attempted to usurp his authority.

  You wouldn’t be as calm?

  Ah, you mistake me. I would, of course, appear to be as calm. There is nothing to be gained by exposing either anger or pain; were there, we would do so. Bellusdeo is not, in my view, actually angry; she is resigned and even amused. Lirienne is angry.

  And Lord Barian?

  I am...less familiar with Lord Barian.

  Kaylin glared at her shoulder. “You didn’t have to show up as a giant Dragon, you know.”

  “It is perhaps a blessing,” Bellusdeo said, before Kaylin could launch into a lecture.

  “How?”

  “He is your familiar. To those of power, in both the High Court and the West March, his status is understood. He took the form of an actual Dragon with his own unusual coloring, and if you recall, caused quite a stir. If politics with words alone are to be effective, there is now room to explain a possible ‘misunderstanding.’ Everyone involved can, if it is desired, save face.”

  “He wasn’t gold.”

  “No. He wasn’t a Dragon at all. And the downside, as you say in Elantra, is that the responsibility for the misunderstanding and possible war will rest entirely on the shoulders of his master.” Bellusdeo laughed as Kaylin’s jaw practically hit the table.

  “There is merit to the Dragon’s suggestion,” Lord Barian said. He then looked to Lirienne, his expression making perfectly clear that the decision in its entirety belonged to the Lord of the West March.

  “Pardon. My manners are somewhat lacking.”

  Nightshade was right: Lirienne was angry.

  “I don’t suppose this is the time to interrupt,” Terrano said, interrupting anyway. Five sets of eyes immediately turned toward him.

  Kaylin spoke first. “Unless you’re about to tell me that I’m unexpectedly rich and everyone around me is safe and happy, no.”

  “Alsanis has guests.”
/>   “No,” the Hallionne’s Avatar said, “I do not.”

  “Fine. Alsanis has visitors.”

  “Please tell me it’s not the war band.”

  Terrano frowned. “Why? I mean—I understand the concept of a lie, and I understand its uses. Sedarias made very sure that we all did,” he added, with a grimace of distaste. “But I don’t see much point in a lie that serves no actual purpose.”

  Bellusdeo shook her head. “You really are Mandoran’s brother. It’s a wonder to me personally, given what’s said about Sedarias, that either of you survived her.”

  He winced. “She likes us, mostly. But, yes, there’s a war band. Well, no, there’s a delegation of three men, impressively armed and armored. If you want, I can go outside and see how many people are waiting behind them.”

  “That will not be necessary.” Lirienne rose. So did Lord Barian. They exchanged a single glance; it was Barian who nodded, bowed and waited until Lirienne left the table. He then followed.

  20

  “Yes, she does,” Alsanis said, although no one had spoken.

  Kaylin glanced at Terrano, who shrugged. “Don’t look at me. I don’t care if people hear what I’m thinking, so I just say it.”

  “When you remember,” Alsanis added, in a slightly more aggrieved tone.

  Terrano’s shrug was a little less casual. “I haven’t been speaking to others much, recently. Not with words.” He then turned his focus on Bellusdeo. “Kaylin thinks out loud as well, so that only leaves you.”

  Bellusdeo exhaled, and as was often the case when she was frustrated, there was smoke in it. Alsanis, however, sharing some of that frustration, didn’t mind. She turned to Kaylin. “I was thinking that you trust the Hallionne.”

  “They’re kind of like Helen.”

  “To my eye, they are nothing like Helen.”

  “Well, she creates rooms on the fly, and she creates small pocket spaces in which she can kind of keep deadly things away from the rest of us. Oh, and she cooks.”

  Bellusdeo exhaled more smoke.

  “And she cares about the comfort and safety of her occupants.” Kaylin turned to face the Avatar of Alsanis. “You’re going to get a good workout today.”

  Alsanis, however, did not reply. His eyes were once again obsidian, and as Terrano turned toward the Hallionne, his shifted into something opalescent. Bellusdeo rose. Kaylin did the same, but more clumsily.

  Squawk. Squawk. Squawk.

  Bellusdeo’s armor—which really should have prevented her from sitting or bending in any way—shifted slightly. “Do you have any issues with draconic form? This hall is somewhat too confined for it, but the great hall is not.”

  “I do not believe Kaylin thinks that is wise.”

  The Dragon seemed nonplused. “I mean no disrespect,” she said, which was usually followed by something disrespectful, “but wisdom and Kaylin are not generally put together in the same sentence. It would be similar to expecting wisdom from Terrano or Mandoran.”

  “Hey!”

  Alsanis considered this, and to the chagrin of the not-quite-Barrani and the mortal, he nodded. “It has been a very long time since I have had a Dragon as a guest.”

  “I’m surprised you’re allowed to speak of it at all.”

  “I am allowed,” he replied gravely, “to speak of anything that does not make the guests feel threatened or endangered. And even then, there is nothing in the words that define my existence that would prevent it. Were there, the Hallionne would be used for political purposes. We were created in part to make safe the spaces in which rivals or enemies might gather. You do not fear the war band.”

  “Not really, no. Kaylin said that even on her first visit, half the Barrani chose to remain outside of the Hallionne’s boundaries. I don’t believe the war band will do anything but make noise at your doorstep; they must know they wouldn’t survive an attempt made against me while I am here.”

  Alsanis bowed, but his eyes remained black, and his expression was troubled. He turned, then, to Terrano, although strictly speaking this wasn’t necessary. “The doorstep, as you call it, might not be the main thrust of the attack.”

  Terrano said, “I’ll go.”

  This time, no one stopped him.

  * * *

  “You don’t happen to know where he’s going?” Kaylin asked, after a minute had passed.

  “Yes.”

  Bellusdeo snorted; she was amused. “I believe she intends for you to share that information.”

  “Ah. You will not be able to follow him; he has chosen to travel in haste.” He then transferred his gaze to Spike. “He could.”

  Squawk.

  “You are certain?”

  Squawk squawk.

  “Your familiar believes that I am incorrect; he believes he can facilitate your travel. I am uncertain, however, that this is wise.”

  “Did you see what happened to Terrano’s friends?”

  “No, Lord Kaylin.”

  “But they didn’t try to return here.”

  “No.”

  Many things made no sense to Kaylin, but she focused on only one of them. The portal that had opened between one part of Orbaranne and her dining hall was part of Orbaranne, and it was there that Kaylin had heard Sedarias.

  The Hallionne’s eyes lost their lids, literally; they disappeared. His face, his facial structure, seemed to shudder; a ripple made it look far more liquid than flesh of any kind should.

  “Alsanis?” Kaylin was the only person in the room who rushed to the Avatar’s side. Without thought she reached out and placed both of her hands on his chest. The familiar did not seem to find this impressive.

  “I am here,” the Hallionne replied; the words did not come from the Avatar’s mouth.

  “What’s happening?”

  He replied, but there were too many unfamiliar words in the answer to make any sense of it.

  “If Terrano is doing something bad, I’m going to strangle him.”

  “It would be difficult to strangle him,” the Hallionne said, unperturbed. “I believe the purpose of strangulation is to restrict the flow of air. Regardless, he is not doing something bad. He is, however, doing something that guests do not usually do.”

  Hope bit Kaylin’s ear. “We’re going to join Terrano, if that’s okay with you.”

  “Strangling your familiar would quite probably be even less successful than strangling Terrano.”

  * * *

  Kaylin moved. Bellusdeo followed.

  Around them, the halls of the Hallionne flowed, changing shape between the heavy steps of a running Hawk and an armored Dragon. Alsanis had widened the halls, granting silent permission for Bellusdeo to go full Dragon; for the moment, she chose to refrain.

  What’s happening outside? Kaylin asked Lirienne as she ran.

  Three men in full armor have approached the Hallionne. There are another forty beyond the Hallionne’s perimeter. The leader of the war band, he added, is Lord Barian’s mother.

  Kaylin let loose with a volley of Leontine.

  The Warden, however, does not seem to have been aware of her plans.

  You’re certain?

  Yes. He didn’t elaborate. This is not a good time for my sister to travel.

  Please don’t think I have any control over what your sister does, or does not, do. She’s far more likely to listen to you, if she can hear you.

  You misunderstand.

  Your sister has already left Elantra. I assume she intends to come to the West March.

  He didn’t ask her how she knew, and she didn’t volunteer; she was fairly certain he could guess, and if he couldn’t, Ynpharion would possibly be just a little less disgusted than he normally was.

  She turned sharply left and almost fell off the floor. The floor, however, righted itself, and stairs f
ormed a yard away from where she skidded—with the help of a wall—to a stop.

  She cannot interfere here—

  I think she probably can. Unless you want to tell her to stop, because I don’t. She’s only barely forgiven me for the last big argument we had—and I’m not having another one unless it’s about the literal end of the world. Which pretty much summed up the previous argument.

  She will not be coming overland. She will take the portal paths.

  But—but that’s how we lost the cohort!

  Yes. And Kaylin, I believe the conspiracy that aided Terrano and his friends in their bid to escape the Hallionne the first time must still be active. Their goals at the time were unclear, but we can assume that their goals and the goals of the cohort overlapped. But they will now have some experience—

  I know. They might have learned from their mistakes.

  Yes. I am uncertain as to what they might have learned. Regardless, if the Consort does arrive, she will arrive at the portal gates.

  * * *

  “I don’t think I’ve heard you swear quite so much. Ever.”

  “Lirienne thinks the Consort is coming by the portal paths.”

  “The portal paths on which the cohort disappeared?”

  “The same.” Even as she spoke, the ground—which had resembled stone beneath both of their feet—began to soften; the air thickened. “Is something on fire? Alsanis?”

  “No. Alsanis is just upset.” That was Terrano. Kaylin couldn’t see him. “I’ve come back for the Shadow. What did you call him?”

  “Spike. He didn’t seem to notice.”

  “I noticed,” Spike said. His voice was diffuse now, the syllables elongated; they no longer seemed to come from the spiky, silvered ball.

  “I meant you weren’t offended.”

  A series of clicks that might have been insects talking came from the ball. Terrano laughed. “He doesn’t understand what you mean by offended. You can try explaining it. I’m not going to.”

  “Oh?” Bellusdeo asked.

  “He’ll ask what angry is. Or what fear is. It’s going to be explanations all the way down, and I don’t have the patience.”