“He’s not the Lord of the West March,” Kaylin continued, uneasy with the texture of that silence. “He’s the Warden. But...he is the Warden. And I think it might be his mother who’s leading the war band.”
The Consort looked once over her shoulder; whatever she was looking at was outside of the mirror’s field of vision. The Consort then returned to the mirror, and to Kaylin. She was not wearing armor; she did not carry a sword or shield. But everything about her now seemed like the very essence of a warrior queen, not the mother of an entire race.
As if she could hear the thought, the Consort said, “When children are endangered, is there much difference between the two? Very well. The portal paths.”
“I believe,” Alsanis said, his voice a rumble, “that you should leave very soon. Sedarias and Terrano are returning, in haste; I believe Sedarias is injured.”
25
The mirror vanished. It wasn’t that the image faded, as it did in mirrors in the Halls of Law; the entirety of the basin that contained the water disappeared. Kaylin turned to look over her shoulder; she could see the Avatar of Alsanis. If the Consort had somehow conjured the essence of warrior queen without bothering with the trappings, Alsanis had reformed his entire physical presence.
“Well it was stupid!” Kaylin heard someone shout.
“They were looking for Dragons!” Sedarias replied. Loudly.
Kaylin careened around the nearest corner; Alsanis had not bothered with subtlety, and had reformed the halls and the doors so that Kaylin was yards away from the room which now contained the rest of the cohort and Bellusdeo.
“It’s not like someone, oh, just tried to assassinate you.”
“I think it was a reasonable assumption that the war band that is hunting Dragons is not connected with the sister who was hunting me.”
“Obviously not entirely reasonable, given the injury. You said it yourself,” Serralyn told Sedarias. She looked up. They weren’t speaking out loud for either Bellusdeo’s or Kaylin’s sake; they were speaking out loud for Terrano’s.
Kaylin pushed them aside. “Let me see.” Sedarias’s arm had been slashed open. The cut didn’t seem to be deep, but it was long.
“It would have been worse,” Eddorian told Kaylin, “but Terrano pulled her back.”
Terrano shrugged. “And for thanks, my ears are still ringing.”
“Who did this?”
“One of the war band, and before you ask, no, I don’t know which one; he was wearing a helm that covered most of his face.”
“So...they mistook you for a Dragon?”
“I think the word was traitor.”
Kaylin rolled her eyes so far back they should have been sprained.
“I’m not happy with it, either. Teela, on the other hand, is blistering. You should hear her.”
“I’ve only seen her angry a few times—genuinely angry, not irritated. And I kind of like to avoid the hells out of her when she’s raging.”
“If it makes you feel better,” Allaron said, “Teela’s at least impressed that you weren’t stupid enough to go out to take a look at the war band.”
“Tell her thanks.”
“She would have been annoyed had you gone. But...she kind of expects better of Sedarias.”
Sedarias, however, was clearly angry at herself. Kaylin wondered if Sedarias was an anger-pointing-inward person or an anger-pointing-outward one. If the latter, she was going to be worse than a raging bear. And Barrani had long memories. On most days, Kaylin envied that, because her memory was a honed, mortal one. On days like today, however, she was grateful for the lack.
“Alsanis says—”
“It’s time to leave, yes.” Sedarias rose. Her arm had been bandaged by one of the cohort; Kaylin expected the work to be sloppy. It wasn’t.
“Teela told us what to do,” Serralyn said, by way of explanation. She glanced at Terrano. “We’re heading to Kariastos.”
“Shouldn’t we stop at Orbaranne?” Kaylin asked.
They all stared at her.
It was Terrano, not connected to the cohort, who said, “Orbaranne does everything within the scope and limits of her power to aid the Lord of the West March.”
“I highly doubt the Lord of the West March is involved with the war band.”
“So do they.” They. The rest of the cohort. “But doubting isn’t the same as certainty. And Alsanis was breached here, in the heart of his domain. They don’t want to take the risk.”
Put that way, it was the smart choice. Kaylin nodded and glanced at Bellusdeo, who also nodded.
“Here,” Terrano added. He handed Spike to Kaylin.
“You didn’t need to carry him. He seems to be mobile on his own.”
Terrano shrugged. “I didn’t want to lose him. And I’m certain we would have. They have at least one Arcanist in the war band.”
“Arcanist?”
“War bands have Arcanists, given what they were composed to fight.”
“And you know they have one because?”
Sedarias said, “Are we talking or leaving?” Clearly, this was not a matter she wished discussed in front of a Dragon.
This irritated Kaylin, but it didn’t seem to irritate Bellusdeo, who nodded in what almost seemed like approval.
* * *
“Are you certain you have control of at least this part of the path?” Kaylin asked Alsanis, for perhaps the thirtieth time. Hallionne, or at least the Hallionne Alsanis, did not seem to be troubled by either the repetition or the worry.
“I did not lose control of the path the first time,” he said. He’d only said this about fifteen times. “The path I created did exist; your friends could not find it. They stepped onto a layer that had been constructed deliberately over top of it, and it swept them away.
“And the Barrani who constructed that layer did so from within you.”
This was the only point that seemed to trouble the cohort.
“Sedarias has some idea of how it was done,” Alsanis said.
“Terrano should bloody well know.”
“Terrano was not always a strategist.”
“Meaning he didn’t make the plans.”
“Or follow them, half of the time. Were it not for the structure provided by the cohort ensemble, I highly doubt he would have been capable of troubling the Hallionne Orbaranne as he did. No, it is to Sedarias you wish to speak.”
Fine. “Are you certain that the portal pathways will be safe for us?”
“We are aware of how they accomplished their attack.”
Kaylin wanted to shriek. “Can they do it again?”
It was Sedarias who answered. “Not immediately and not without Alsanis’s cooperation. He is aware of the avenue of attack used, and he has come up with an effective counter to it.”
“They didn’t have his cooperation the first time,” Kaylin quite reasonably pointed out. “Look—from what I saw, they were carrying Shadow. Both of them. They didn’t enter through the front doors, but they were standing at the heart of his power. How could he not have noticed that?”
“Why don’t you ask him?” Sedarias said, throwing her hands up in frustration.
“She has,” Alsanis replied. “I have chosen not to answer.”
The cohort fell silent. Kaylin glanced at Bellusdeo and Terrano; Terrano was watching his friends as if, by strength of will alone, he could join what was obviously their discussion.
Kaylin then stared at the Hallionne’s Avatar.
“It is best, Lord Kaylin, that you engage in discussions of this nature with care. Were you Barrani, it would be less unsafe, but your expressions give much away, even when your words do not. I do not mistrust your intent,” Alsanis added, “but I have misgivings about your abilities.”
Because that was so much better.
“
This is how it starts,” Bellusdeo said quietly.
The cohort looked toward her, even Terrano. “Those who seek power—the way one seeks one of the Dragonslayers—find power in Shadow. In small amounts, they consider it akin to the use of elemental magics, but small becomes large, because once one has broken certain taboos safely, there’s no reason not to continue.
“Shadow has power. And in small quantities, if it can even be measured, it has no will; it is inert, in the way fire or water are when summoned to light or douse candles. Theoretically, even at that size, there is a trace of the living element, but it is too quiet, too slight, to be sensed. So, too, Shadow.”
“And you know this how?” Terrano demanded. Sedarias kicked him; she knew the answer. She knew what Annarion and Mandoran knew.
“From experience.” The Dragon’s eyes were orange, but they were fixed at a point above and beyond the cohort’s collective head. “Shadow can be used to combat shadow in subtle ways. In that fashion, it is very like the elements. If we summon fire in a large enough quantity, fire opposes us. The will of fire is to burn—at least when caged and summoned. The will of Shadow is different.”
Kaylin glanced at Spike.
“I have now encountered Shadows who I would not consider enemies,” Bellusdeo continued, speaking the words as if grudging every one of them. “And I believe that those Shadows have the same will—if not the same function—as the rest of us. But this creature,” she said, indicating Spike, “was not under its own control when it ventured into the West March.
“And I believe that the members of your High Court who are being fed power—or absorbing it under their own recognizance—are in danger of becoming transformed and enslaved, just as it was. In the end, if they draw enough power, the Shadows have a doorway into the rest of Elantra. The Towers in the fiefs serve as a solid defense against a frontal assault. I do not believe Shadow can easily escape it.
“But the fieflords can—and have—entered Ravellon before, and emerged unharmed. Is it possible that the fieflords are allowing key Barrani Lords a path into Ravellon?”
“If the money was good,” Kaylin replied, uneasy now.
“You may well find that Shadow has begun a subtle infiltration of your city in a way that the Towers cannot easily prevent. I believe it of utmost import that we return to the Empire.”
“And put an end to the war?”
“As you’ve pointed out, your familiar appeared here without warning in the shape of a Dragon. No one who saw him believed that he was draconic, but it is a pretext for cessation of political hostilities.” When Kaylin stared at her, Bellusdeo snorted. “It saves face.”
“I’m not sure I want to save their faces.”
Terrano snickered.
“Portal paths,” Kaylin said.
* * *
The cohort were silent, which didn’t really mean much except that Terrano couldn’t take part in their conversation. Kaylin caught a few eye rolls, which meant the conversation was not all one-sided, and Sedarias did not notably cheer up. But Alsanis took them to the portal pathways without incident; the ground didn’t fall out from beneath their feet, and Bellusdeo did not go full Dragon.
Kaylin was slightly surprised that the cohort accepted a Dragon in their midst so readily, but probably shouldn’t have been. While they were holed up in Alsanis, Mandoran and Bellusdeo were bickering half a continent away. They had seen Bellusdeo as Mandoran and Annarion had; they’d seen her fight. They were aware that she had been injured in the defense of the High Halls.
And they were aware, as well, of her status, not as a member of the Dragon Court, but as a displaced person, a person who had been swept out of her life in the Aeries and deposited in an entirely different world. They were aware, as Mandoran was, that any old friends she possessed—those that had managed to survive three wars—were sleeping the long sleep of Dragons; she could not return to their sides.
War had scarred them all, destroying any lives they had planned before they were swept up in its currents.
Alsanis created a tall, rectangular arch; Kaylin watched as it went up, inch by inch, from both the left and the right, meeting at last in the unusual keystone at its height. There was a word carved out of the keystone that seemed to glow, and she looked at her arms almost automatically. Her own marks were flat.
To Kaylin’s eyes, the portal resembled a mirror—a normal one. The central image it contained coalesced out of multi-hued, swirling fog, until it turned into a flat, almost empty plain.
“Yes,” Alsanis said, to Kaylin’s unasked question. “In general, we attempt to enforce a familiar landscape upon these pathways. It is far easier for those who choose to walk them not to stray.”
“And today?”
“That shift in appearance requires more power, and more planning. Some essential part of the path itself is diverted into maintaining its appearance.” He did not need to point out all the reasons why that was a bad idea today.
Kaylin’s gaze returned to the portal. Something was moving across the plain; it seemed to be running toward them. As it grew closer, she realized that it was not one thing, but two; they looked like long-legged animals, too light of foot and musculature to be horses. Only when they were almost at the portal did she recognize them. Or at least their faces. Grimacing, she told the cohort and the Dragon, “They’re safe.”
Bellusdeo eyed them dubiously.
“It’s Winston and one of his brothers.”
“And Winston and his brothers are?”
“The core of the Hallionne are people. Different races, but...people. I have no idea what Alsanis used to be; I suspect Orbaranne was once human. Bertolle was neither. When Bertolle chose to become a Hallionne, his brothers remained with him. They were sleeping. I woke them up on the way to the West March my first time through. They...don’t really understand bodies.”
“They do,” Terrano said quietly. “They just don’t understand our bodies.”
* * *
Winston was delighted to see Kaylin. He was delighted to see the cohort. He was momentarily stunned at the sight of Bellusdeo, but not in the usual Barrani way. His passably Barrani head, attached to a much longer neck, swiveled from person to person until Kaylin felt queasy.
“Winston, please—just take a normal Barrani shape.”
“Oh. Sorry. We had to move at speed and we were forbidden faster modes of transportation, so we had to improvise,” Winston helpfully explained, while the rest of his body melted and reassembled itself beneath his face. “The Consort is waiting with Kariastos.”
“Did you have any trouble finding us?”
The question confused Winston, who glanced at his brother. His brother had also disassembled and reassembled himself, and was blinking rapidly. When he opened his mouth to answer, he didn’t use words; something very like a screeching insect buzz left his lips instead.
Spike whirred to life, and answered.
The two brothers exchanged a glance, and this time it was Winston who spoke.
“Can you understand them?” Kaylin asked Alsanis.
“Yes, Lord Kaylin.”
“Can you translate what they’re saying so it makes sense to me?”
A longer pause. “I am uncertain. Your friend is capable of communicating across species, and he may be able to explain the situation. I believe there is some concern.”
“About Spike’s presence?”
“About the portal paths.”
“Were you two attacked on the way here?” Kaylin asked.
Winston blinked. “No.”
“Why are you worried about Spike?”
“I believe that he’ll be noticed.”
“...And you weren’t worried about being noticed yourselves.”
“No—I told you, we avoided forms of travel that would be notable.”
Bellusdeo coughed
into her hand.
“There are hunters abroad,” Winston continued.
“And that’s different from the norm.”
He nodded gravely. “Something is waking, Lord Kaylin.”
She blinked. “Why are you calling me that?”
Winston blinked as well, but with more obvious confusion and less grimace. “We were told by Bertolle that that is the correct form of address. And that we must endeavor to use it.”
“Bertolle was wrong. You can call me Private Neya, if you absolutely insist on using something that isn’t my name.” Which was irrelevant. Kaylin mentally kicked herself. “What do you mean, something’s waking?”
The two brothers exchanged a glance, and the other brother then spoke, whirring and clicking at Spike. Spike replied in kind, and as he talked, Winston forgot about his eyes; they lost their resemblance to Barrani eyes, widening in his face until the upper half was a kind of black mess that resembled open eyes seen through a magnifying glass.
All of the cohort found this obviously disturbing, judging by their expressions. Bellusdeo, orange-eyed, turned to Kaylin. “You are certain they are safe?”
Kaylin nodded. In a much quieter voice, she added, “They’re not quite used to having bodies like ours. I think. When they first woke, they reminded me of foundlings; they were extremely excited to see what these bodies could do. I think one of them grew both arms by several yards, and knotted them.”
“That is...not comforting.”
“It was very helpful when we were on the portal paths. They literally threw themselves down and became a road we could follow, which would occasionally open its eyes and mouths beneath our feet.” Kaylin grimaced, remembering it. “But they were the reason we managed to travel in more or less the same direction. If you fall off the portal paths, you wander a lot.”
“Do you think that was the intent with the cohort? That they fall off those paths and become lost?”
“It’s a thought.”
“Which means no.”
“I think someone wants Sedarias out of the picture. I don’t think they care whether or not the rest of the cohort arrives—but I could be wrong.”
“You’re wrong,” Sedarias said. She glanced at Terrano, and her expression softened.
Cast in Deception Page 40
