Cast in Flame (23 page)

“I was hoping to take Annarion and Mandoran to meet Tara.”

She half expected Teela to shriek. In public. Her brows certainly rose; her lips thinned. She even opened her mouth—but the words that fell out were not the ones Kaylin expected. “Have you consulted Tiamaris about this?”

“...No.”

“Given what happened at Nightshade, taking them to Tara without prior consultation is like suicide, only more painful.”

Kaylin shook her head. “Tara’s awake. She’s in full control of herself and the land she inhabits. Whatever Annarion did, he did it with the Castle’s subconscious permission. Tara’s not sleeping. I don’t think either Mandoran or Annarion can cause trouble there.”

Teela snorted.

“Well, not accidental trouble, at any rate. I don’t think Annarion would try.”

“You’re forgetting one important fact.”

“What?”

“Tiamaris,” Bellusdeo said, before Teela could, “is a Dragon.”

“Well, yes, but— Oh. Right.”

“I have noticed that Mandoran is not particularly fond of my people,” Bellusdeo continued.

“He’s not,” Teela agreed. “But Mandoran didn’t attempt to assassinate you. We live with Dragons. We are, in theory, ruled by them. But we fought a few wars between my friends’ departure and their return. They’ll get used to it—and if they agree to visit Tara, they won’t antagonize Tiamaris.”

“I’ve noticed you have an odd custom in the Hawks,” Bellusdeo told them both; it sounded like a change of subject. It wasn’t. “Betting?”

“Kaylin’s fault.”

“I would like to make a bet.”

“No thanks,” Teela replied. “I wouldn’t, sadly, touch that one.”

Kaylin, however, asked, “How much?”

* * *

Annarion, it turned out, didn’t want to visit Tara. Mandoran had recovered enough from his visit to Evanton’s that he was game.

Teela agreed, grudgingly, to argue
for
the visit—in person.

“Why don’t you just argue now?”

Teela grimaced. “Annarion, Mandoran, and the rest of my cohort have lived with the constant flow of each other’s thoughts for almost as long as I’ve been alive. They’re accustomed to merging all thought and all experience; they sometimes forget whose experience it actually is, or was.” She exhaled for a long moment. “I lived with them for years, but our shared experiences—for me—ended at the Heart of the Green.

“I mourned. You cannot imagine how much—or perhaps,” she added, voicing softening, “you can. But I could either destroy my life or
live
it. I learned to live it. I learned what other High Lords learn. I do not trust easily or often, and if I trust intent—which is rare—I seldom trust competence.”

Kaylin had personal experience with this. About seven years’ worth.

“I have allowed no one into my life the way I allowed my cohort into it. I learned to guard and hide my thoughts; I learned to control my emotional responses. Again, these are all traits the High Lords learn; if they fail, they fall. I therefore have a different set of choices when dealing with my friends: to join, or to stand back.” Her smile was slight. “I would not have said that I would choose the latter, if I were ever to find them again. I’ve changed. They’ve changed in a different way.

“It’s...awkward.”

“So...this request in person is a way of preserving your privacy?”

Teela nodded. “You can speak with Nightshade any time you want. How often do you choose to do so?”

Almost, but not quite, never. “It’s different.”

“How?”

“I had no idea what he was giving me, and I’ve never trusted him. I lived in the fief he ruled for most of my life. I know what he’s capable of. I know what’s beneath his notice—and that would be almost every
other
person in the fief. When you made the choice, you offered your name to people you both loved and trusted. It’s safer for me to argue with Nightshade in person than it is to argue...that way.”

“You place an inordinate weight on the love and the trust given by children—which is what we were.”

So do you,
Kaylin thought. She didn’t say it out loud, and Teela couldn’t hear
her.

“I’m only barely willing to go to Tiamaris. I’ve listened with some interest when you speak of your Tara, and I’m willing—barely—to let curiosity override common sense. Annarion is against it. If he has the same effect on Tara as he did on the Castle, he’ll be facing an enraged Dragon and the possibility of a breach in the Shadow defenses. If he understood what he’d done to cause Castle Nightshade to react so strongly, he’d be willing to take the same risk I am. He is,” she added, “one of three of my cohort who generally prefers common sense.

“Given his concerns and their validity, I hope to make clear that Tara is a personal friend—of yours. She is fully awake, she is bluntly honest, and she is likely to be able to explicitly explain what he did to rouse Castle Nightshade. If he knows, he can take conscious control of the action, which means he
might
be able to visit his brother without immediately being a threat to his brother’s existence.”

Severn brushed hair out of his eyes. “Have either of you considered the possibility that Tara will instantly recognize the two as a threat and will refuse to allow them entry?”

Kaylin hadn’t.

Teela, however, nodded. “I think your idea is solid. I admit that it would not have occurred to me.” She waited for Kaylin to pick up her jaw, which had fallen open and was hanging there. “Why are you looking so pensive?”

“I just—I remember the first time I entered the Tower. I remember what I saw there. It was every single thing I had ever done wrong. Not small wrong, but big, self-defining wrong. It made me relive the horror of my own life, and my own bad choices.”

“You’re rethinking your suggestion.”

Kaylin shook her head. “She wasn’t trying to force me to live with my guilt. She was trying to show me that she understood the worst of my pain. And, you know, she
did.
She understood it completely. She knew every single thing I hated myself for. But she wasn’t trying to make me suffer
more.
I don’t think she really understood the way time works for mortals. I think of her as childlike. The best parts of childhood. The curiosity and the openness and the joy.

“But...that’s not all she is, and that’s not all she knows. I think she’d like Mandoran and Annarion.”

“Why, exactly, do you think that?”

Kaylin frowned. “They grew up in a Hallionne. They could go where they wanted, moving between the Hallionne and the green. They understand sentient buildings in a way I’m certain
I
never will. And I think they’ll understand Tara in a way that even Tiamaris can’t.”

“You think she’s lonely?”

“Not anymore, no. But—there’s something about someone who’s shared your experiences. I love the Hawks. I love all of you, even Joey’s mother.”

“Who is not a Hawk.”

“I probably know more about Joey’s mother than I know about my own.”

“Fair point.”

“I’m aware that we’ve built seven years of history, working together. I hated Barren. I hated my life in the fiefs. I would kill before I went back to it. Or die. But...I feel close to Morse
because
of that life. Because she understands it in a way that—”

“That I don’t?”

“Yes. To be fair, you probably don’t understand my happy life, either.”

“I am content with that particular ignorance—beyond a desire to see that life continue. You are not boring, remember?”

“Neither are Mandoran or Annarion, and I don’t see you dancing a jig about them.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Bellusdeo was not, technically, given permission to accompany Kaylin to the fief of Tiamaris. Kaylin, aware of whose neck was actually on the line, mirrored the Imperial Palace Library. She got a face full of orange-eyed, annoyed Royal Librarian for her trouble.

“Is this an emergency?” the Arkon demanded, tufts of smoke leaving the corners of his mouth.

“Yes?”

“You sound doubtful.”

Bellusdeo stepped into the mirror’s view. Her eyes had tinted toward bronze, but she never went full-on red in the Arkon’s presence. “Lannagaros.”

“Bellusdeo,” he replied—in an entirely different tone of voice. Even his eyes brightened to gold. “My apologies.”

“Apologies to me are never necessary, Lannagaros—but I find you a touch hard on Kaylin.”

“Private Neya is like a particularly bright kitten,” was his unselfconscious reply. “I find it best to set hard boundaries, and police them ferociously; she is perfectly capable of demanding inordinate amounts of my time, otherwise.”

Dragons.

Kaylin cleared her throat. “I’m about to head down to Tiamaris. We want to speak with Tara. Bellusdeo hasn’t seen Maggaron for a few weeks.”

The Arkon frowned. “When you say ‘we’, Private, do you refer to yourself and Bellusdeo exclusively?”

The Dragon and the private exchanged a glance.

“I will assume that is a no.” More smoke escaped the corners of his mouth. He would have looked like a sage out of a story if he’d actually bothered holding a pipe. “You are taking Teela’s friends?”

This time, Kaylin kept her eyes firmly on the mirror; she felt Bellusdeo’s gaze smack the side of her face. “If they’ll agree, yes. They’re having a bit of a problem adjusting to the new world paradigm.”

He surprised her. He chuckled. It was dry enough to light paper. “I imagine they are. I would appreciate the opportunity to meet and speak with them, in future.”

Kaylin thought it would be far easier to get them to visit a Tower in the fiefs, even one owned by a Dragon, than it would to get them to visit the Palace, since the Dragon in the Palace ruled the Empire. She didn’t have to say this.

“I would not, of course, invite them here.” Which would have been a relief, but he was the Arkon. “I hear that you visited the Keeper today.”

Bellusdeo’s smile froze, although it still remained on her face. Somehow. “Lannagaros—”

“I consider him a wise choice of acquaintance. I meant no criticism. The Emperor was concerned about the outcome of your last visit, but as you did not emerge on a second visit in full armor, he is somewhat mollified. Was the visit interesting in any way?”

Bellusdeo’s eyes narrowed. “You are not, I hope, interfering?”

“I would interfere in a heartbeat if you but asked,” was his formal reply.

Her smile unfroze. It was pensive. “Did I ever ask for help in the Aerie?”

“Not when you actually needed it, no. A request for aid was always a sign of trouble to come.”

At that, Bellusdeo did smile; it made her look much younger. “You were always so stiff and proper,” she said, with obvious fondness.

“It has not, generally, worked to my detriment.”

“No, I don’t imagine it has. It rarely worked to mine, either. Yes, we had a peaceful visit with the Keeper. He reminds me a little of you, you know. Don’t make that face.”

“He’s mortal.”

“He’s the Keeper. Mortality is his weakness, but it has not yet killed him. I don’t believe he’ll allow it to kill him, either, until he’s fully trained his replacement.”

“And the private mirrored me to ask if you might accompany her to Tiamaris, did she?”

“The private,” Kaylin pointed out, “is right here. You could ask me.”

“Or you could fail to be offended, and answer.”

Kaylin snorted, without the smoke. The small dragon, however, batted her cheek with his head. “Yes, that’s why I interrupted you. Bellusdeo would like to accompany us.”

“You consider it safe?”

“I’m not convinced that what
I
consider safe is the deciding factor here, but yes, I consider it safe.”

“There is something you are not telling me.”

“You usually don’t like it when I—as you put it—chatter endlessly.”

A white brow rose. His eyes, however, remained the gold they’d become in conversing with Bellusdeo. “Very well. I will inform Lord Emmerian. He may choose to join you.”

Bellusdeo said nothing.

“In different circumstances, you would like Emmerian. Of all the young Dragons, he is the least likely, in my opinion, to find his hoard. He is easily contented.”

This didn’t mean much to Kaylin; it clearly meant something to Bellusdeo. “He is not,” she conceded, “Diarmat.”

“No. There is only one Diarmat. We are lucky to have him,” the Arkon added, as if trying to be fair, “but he requires tolerance.”

“Spoken like a man who doesn’t have to take his infernal etiquette lessons.”

“Indeed. He is very hierarchical, and I am above him in that hierarchy. In different circumstances, Bellusdeo, you would be, as well.”

“I am unwilling to leave Kaylin to suffer his odiousness alone.”

“And Kaylin,” Kaylin added, “appreciates her presence immensely. We have a lesson tomorrow night.”

“Do not remind me. Very well, Lannagaros. Inform Emmerian if you must. We will be heading almost directly from the Halls to the fief.”

* * *

Kaylin took the time to mirror Tara to tell her that she was arriving with an unspecified number of guests.

“You don’t usually mirror before you arrive.”

“I don’t usually know exactly when I’m arriving,” Kaylin replied, hesitant. “But—you always know before I get there.”

“Yes. I know when you cross the Ablayne. Who are your guests?”

“Bellusdeo.”

“I will inform Maggaron.”

The Dragon thanked her.

“...and Lord Teela of the Barrani High Court. She’s a Hawk. Tiamaris knows her.”

Tara’s face, in the mirror’s surface, went blank for a moment as she consulted with the Tower’s Lord. “He is surprised.”

“Yes, well.”

“He is suspicious.”

Bellusdeo chuckled. “And not without reason. I’m not sure if you’ve heard, but Teela has visiting...relatives...staying in the City.”

Tara frowned. It wasn’t an angry or even disapproving frown; she frowned when something confused her. “Teela,” she finally said, “has many relatives staying in the City.”

“Yes, but these two are new to Elantra.”

“And she wishes to bring them here?” Her face went momentarily blank again, and it remained that way for much longer. When it cleared, Tiamaris was standing in the mirror’s frame beside his Avatar. His eyes were a lovely, lambent gold, and he smiled when he saw Bellusdeo. His smile dimmed when he turned his attention on Kaylin. She felt very under-appreciated.