Cast in Flame (20 page)

Kaylin had never understood how the water knew what it knew. She didn’t generally question it. But something about the sharp edge of the question—maybe it was the ice—made her hesitate. The water knew, of course. It could hear her—when they were in contact—as if it knew Kaylin’s true name. Or as if Kaylin knew the water’s.

There are secrets,
the water said quietly.
We do not keep them from you because we plan to use them against you; we have no easy way to explain what they are. Your Mandoran/Annarion is one such secret. I cannot explain what he is to you, because you cannot hear the explanation; you can hear only one part, and it is the lesser part.

I exist as water, in this realm. I am part of the world into which you were born, and in which you will eventually die. But I am part of the green. I am part of the heart of the green. I am part of the Outlands. There is only one place I do not touch willingly, and only one place in which I surrender all dreaming and all sentience.
Ravellon.

But—
Ravellon
is part of this world.

So, too, is your Mandoran. Your Annarion. If he cares—if they care, if they truly believe they are separate—he must leave. I will allow your passage from this place,
she continued.
I will do what I can to preserve you all. But everything in me, daughter, wishes his absence, however that might be achieved. I will not sleep again while the ancestors wake. Go, now.

* * *

Kaylin turned to Teela as the water once again bled through her curved fingers. “We can leave.”

“You know where the exit is?”

“More or less.” She glanced at Annarion and added, “You’re probably not going to like it, but the water’s promised to do her best not to destroy you.”

He lifted one brow, the expression so much like Nightshade’s Kaylin almost laughed. “I cannot believe a city that houses so many mortals can be so unexpectedly, unpredictably deadly. You could have warned us, Teela.”

“It wasn’t unpredictable in this particular way until the two of you arrived.” Her knuckles, where she gripped Annarion’s wrist, were white. “But if we’re being fair, you weren’t responsible for the Destroyer of Worlds, and you weren’t responsible for the Outcaste Dragon. You weren’t responsible for the tidal wave that nearly destroyed the city, either.”

“You’ve forgotten the Shadows that tried—”

“If I make a list, it’ll just remind me how much of a hazard
you
are.”

“I think I prefer it when you speak High Barrani.”

Teela snorted. “We’re not walking out, are we?”

“No. The water will give us a lift.”

Annarion’s eyes went straight to the almost draconian gold of Barrani surprise. “You can’t mean to jump
into
the water?”

Kaylin nodded. Annarion replied—in Leontine. Kaylin laughed.

Squawk.

“Sorry. I hadn’t forgotten you.”

Squawk. Squawk.

“Well, maybe just a little—but I was busy trying to keep us alive. Are you coming with us, or are you going to fly?”

Squawk.
He hovered nearer to the cavern’s height, and showed no obvious intention of descending.

“Suit yourself. We’re getting wet.”

* * *

Annarion proved himself to be younger than Nightshade or Teela in one regard. He was suspicious of the water—and given the water’s attitude, with good reason—but he could not let Kaylin, a mere mortal, take a risk he was afraid to take. When Severn detached himself from Kaylin’s waist and bound the weapon chain tightly around his own, sheathing both blades, Annarion inhaled, lifted his shoulders and walked directly toward the much calmer river.

He didn’t jump in; Teela caught him before he could. Her eyes were blue. She wasn’t surprised at all. Then again, she’d rarely been surprised by stupid feats of pride on the part of Kaylin’s younger self, either. She’d pretty much owned outrage, though.

“Let her go in first.”

“She’s mortal—”

“Yes. She’s the mortal who talked to the water and
calmed it down.
She goes in first.”

Kaylin turned to Annarion. “I’m mortal. I’m not a child.”

“Not on most days, at any rate,” Teela unhelpfully added. “She doesn’t like to try new foods, and she’s lazy when it comes to cleaning.”

“Teela. Now. Is. Not. The. Time.”

Teela laughed. It was the deep, sensual laughter that usually made her eyes go green—and they did. Annarion’s were also a greener shade of blue by the time she’d finished, although he had the grace not to join her.

He didn’t, however, attempt to stop Kaylin when she approached the water. The thought of sloshing her way home in soaked boots and clothing—where in this case home was the Imperial Palace—was the only thing that made her hesitate.

It didn’t last long. She sat on the rocky outcropping and lowered herself into the rushing current, feet first. The water rose instantly and enveloped her. Kaylin trusted the water enough that she didn’t flinch; she’d been carried by water before. She did hold her breath.

She heard the watery splashes as she was joined by her three companions; the sphere that surrounded them began to thin and fade. The last thing she heard as the water began to pull them along in the folds of harsh current was the squawking of a very discontent small dragon.

* * *

They came up through the old well. The water crested the top of the worn, stone structure, spitting them out as if they were poison. If the outer facade of the Castle had changed—and no one could deny that it had—the well itself remained roughly where Kaylin had found it the first time. She pulled herself to her knees and noted that the dirt and debris that streets generally gathered were now clinging to her clothing.

It helped that it appeared to be clinging to some of Teela’s. Teela’s hair, on the other hand, fell in a straight curtain. It was wet, but it looked attractive. Kaylin was certain hers now looked like the side of a half-drowned cat. Annarion, however, was naked, and that was going to be more challenging.

As if he could read her mind—and technically, if he wanted to, he probably could—Severn removed his shirt. He spent a good five minutes wringing as much water out of it as he possibly could before he shook it out again and handed it to Annarion. They were roughly the same height, but Annarion was slimmer.

“Take it,” Kaylin told him. “It’s better than nothing.”

“The cold—or the heat—that will kill mortals causes at most minor discomfort to my people.”

“This isn’t about the cold. People don’t walk around the city streets stark naked unless they happen to be toddlers.”

“We don’t generally have the same taboos mortals have,” Annarion replied.

“We
didn’t,
” Teela corrected him. “While resident within the city of Elantra, we adopt them.”

“Why?”

“Mortal drool is unattractive?” Kaylin offered. “Yes, that was meant to be humorous,” she added, because he looked uncertain, and uncertainty seemed so wrong on a Barrani face.

He took the shirt. He grimaced, but that made sense: it was wet, and it was probably cold. It was only barely long enough that it covered the relevant body parts.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“I’m considering jail,” Teela replied, in a tone that was only half-joking.

Annarion wasn’t offended. “So...that would be Tain’s?”

Kaylin laughed; Annarion grinned. He’d probably said it out loud because he thought it might be amusing to the two mortals who would otherwise be left out of the conversation.

Annarion sobered first. “You don’t mean to take us back to my brother.”

Kaylin shook her head. “He forbid it.”

“He can’t forbid—”

“You? He can, but you can probably ignore him. I can’t ignore him as easily.”

“You could if you were willing to learn how,” Teela said. “It can’t be worse than lighting a candle.”

“That took me
months.
”

“And your point is? Even in the span of a mortal life, a few months is not an onerous, life-consuming period. It took you longer than that to become competent at using daggers. It took you longer than that to memorize most of the Law. This is important; it’s probably more important than competent use of knives. You should be more concerned with privacy.”

Since Teela had insisted on having keys to Kaylin’s apartment—when she’d actually had an apartment of her own—Kaylin thought this was ironic. Especially given how frequently she’d used said keys without giving any warning.

Annarion held up a hand.

“Yes?” Kaylin and Teela said, in unison.

“My brother?”

Teela said nothing. Kaylin, however, said, “I don’t know what you did while you were arguing. Your brother’s not certain, either. He’s now attempting to exert his will upon a Castle that can think—and speak—for itself. He feels that your presence will make it significantly more difficult. And more dangerous. For him.”

That is not what I said.

“That cannot be what he said,” Annarion replied.

Kaylin wanted to laugh. “No, that’s not the
way
he said it. But that’s what he meant. He can’t explain what you did, or why you had the effect you had—but it’s destabilizing enough that he’s going to have to work to bring things back under his control. And given the Castle is now awake, that control won’t be what it once was.”

Annarion looked torn. Teela grabbed his elbow. In Elantran, she said, “You can’t just charge in and expect things will work the way you want them to work. While I have no personal objections to your punching your brother in the jaw, wait until he’s outside of his fief next time.” When Annarion tried to pull free of her tightening grip, she added, “You can’t help him tonight. The closest you can come is by leaving the fief, and that’s what we’re doing.”

Squawk.

Annarion looked up, exhaled, and shrank about three inches as the small dragon, who had appeared out of almost nowhere, flew circles around his head.

* * *

“You’re worried.” Severn accompanied Kaylin to the Palace; Teela took Annarion to Tain’s.

She nodded. “Mandoran and Annarion are going to be way more of a problem than Teela thought.” In fairness, while Kaylin had thought they’d cause trouble, she’d expected it would be trouble they
intended
to cause. “They seem to think they’re Barrani.”

“And you don’t?”

“I did. I assumed that they were friendlier and more ready to laugh because they were young. The young don’t come to this city. As far as I can tell, they live on their family estates in the middle of nowhere until someone decides they’ve got a hope of surviving outside of them. All the children chosen for the
regalia
in Teela’s time were considered too young to be fully adult. So the differences made sense.

“But now? No. Evanton thinks they’re a danger. The Castle thinks they’re a danger. The
Arkon
thinks they’re a danger, and he’s never met any of them except Teela, who as far as I can tell doesn’t count. She didn’t spend most of her life in a space that didn’t have physical laws and didn’t require, oh, bodies. I hope Tain survives them,” she added.

“Tain didn’t seem to find them threatening. Annoying, yes. Irritating, yes. But not dangerous.”

“I’m not sure they’ll be a danger to him. Unless he really loses his temper.” She then exhaled.

“More on your mind?”

“I know this is going to sound petty—but I want my own place. I’m going to walk through Imperial Guard checkpoints looking like a drowned cat. If I’m lucky, I won’t have to explain
why
I decided to throw myself, fully clothed, into the Ablayne.” She then gave a quick—and increasingly frustrated—rundown of the events of their very first apartment viewing.

“The Emperor doesn’t want Bellusdeo to move out.”

“No. And if I’m moving out and I can’t tell her she can’t come with me, my chances of finding even a
room
I can call my own are approaching zero. I know it’s a problem that many, many people would be overjoyed to have. I’m trying to be reasonable, here. But—I hate living in a space I can never just relax in. I can’t be myself in the Palace—there are too many people to offend. I feel like I’m offensive just by breathing.”

Severn slid an arm around her shoulder, and she leaned into his chest. She was cold; wet clothing in the dead of night had that effect. “On the other hand,” she said, lifting her head as they slowly approached the courtyard gates, “I think Bellusdeo has finally stopped shouting.”

* * *

If Palace Guards caused stress just by existing, roommates sometimes had the same effect. Kaylin navigated the door ward she hated so much, and entered the room with numb left arm. Bellusdeo was curled up in the largest chair, waiting. Her hair was down and she wore, of all things, a bathrobe. She looked about as far from courtly as a rich, powerful Dragon could.

Her eyes, however, were a shade of orange. Kaylin didn’t expect that shade to change much while they called the Palace home. Unless she swapped orange for red.

“Are you wet?”

Since there was no way to deny it, Kaylin nodded.

Dragon eyes narrowed.

“I had a little accident. It’s fine.”

“A little accident.”

Kaylin nodded.

“So—nothing like the reason you were soaking wet this afternoon.”

“Technically, it was yesterday afternoon.” The small dragon squawked. A lot.

Bellusdeo’s eyes did not shade into a friendlier color.

“How was your discussion with the Emperor?”

“I’d rather not talk about it.”

Which was fine; Kaylin wasn’t entirely certain she wanted to hear about it, either. Angry Dragons, other than Bellusdeo, weren’t supposed to
be
her problem. She headed into the bedroom and began to peel clothing off her skin. A bathrobe hung in the closet that was really its own small room; Kaylin grabbed it, angry at herself. Yes, she’d had a crappy evening. Yes, some of that had something to do with Bellusdeo—but it wasn’t Bellusdeo’s fault, and truthfully, an obstructionist Emperor couldn’t hold a candle to ancient, murderous Barrani ancestors and a Castle that seemed to be cut from their cloth.