“It is Ravellon.” Bellusdeo was the definition of grim, now. “And Ravellon exists everywhere.”
“Can you see the rest of the city?”
“No. But Elantra is not Ravellon.”
“Can you see the fiefs?”
“I can see the Towers,” Bellusdeo said quietly. “And we’re going to have a small problem, if I judge your intent correctly.”
“What problem?”
“Look at the Towers.”
Kaylin felt herself wilt as she obeyed. She could see the Towers. Terrano had been right: they were visible. But none of them looked like the Towers with which she was familiar. They were built around Ravellon, but seemed, to her eye, to stand at the very edge of that fief’s boundaries. And they were absolutely identical.
“Does it matter which Tower?” Terrano asked.
“Yes. There’s only one that isn’t likely to immediately destroy us all, or make the attempt to do so.”
“So...this was your plan?”
“I was kind of short on time.”
The cohort were speaking among themselves. Sedarias turned toward Kaylin. “The Shadows are moving.”
“I can see that.” Kaylin glanced at Bellusdeo; the Dragon’s eyes were blood red.
“You mean to approach Tiamaris.”
“Tara, yes. I think there’s a good chance she’ll let us in through the back door. If we can find it.”
“Castle Nightshade?” Bellusdeo asked.
“Will devour us whole. All of us. Without blinking. Nightshade can control the Tower, but I wouldn’t put it beyond his damn castle to kill us in an eye blink, which would be about the time it would take Nightshade to assert control. His Tower really doesn’t like Annarion, and I’m guessing by extension all the rest of the cohort as well.”
You underestimate me, Nightshade said, clearly unamused.
“We’d rather avoid it, if we can,” Sedarias told Kaylin. “We...know what Annarion encountered.”
*
Kaylin cursed her lack of affinity with geography. Loudly. Often. There was very little in Records about Ravellon, and both the streets and buildings that made up Ravellon were known to physically change when people entered the fief.
There were seven Towers.
The most obvious landmark, the Ablayne river, was nowhere in sight. In fact, none of the streets beyond Ravellon were visible; nothing marked the location of the city she called home. Which made sense. In no way could they have reached Elantra from the West March by foot in so short a time. They couldn’t have done it on horseback, either; Kaylin was less certain about riding Dragon-back, because Dragons could move. Regardless, Bellusdeo couldn’t transport the entire cohort simultaneously.
Bellusdeo scanned the horizon, in part because there was something to scan, and in part because of what that something was. She had lived in Ravellon, albeit as a sword in the hand of an enslaved Maggaron.
“You are thinking too loudly,” the gold Dragon said.
“Do you recognize anything?”
“Yes. And no. Ravellon changes from moment to moment. There’s no certain sense of geography.”
“Do you remember much about it?” This question, Kaylin asked in a much more hesitant tone. She didn’t like to pry into the past—and the past pain—of others, because she hated it when people pried into hers. She wanted the past to be irrelevant. She wanted the present and the future to be the only things that mattered. And of course, that was impossible. Even now, the past defined so much of her life. But...if that past had brought her to this point—well, to the point of serving the Halls of Law, to be precise—it was the right past. It had led here.
Lord Kaylin.
Go away.
Ynpharion was frustrated. He was also afraid.
She’s not going to blame you for this. This is not on you.
There is a danger.
Kaylin almost laughed out loud, but it would have been bitter, cynical laughter, and she didn’t want to have to explain it to the cohort. No kidding.
You have not attracted attention, yet. The Lady asks—the Lady begs—that you come away while you have the chance. She is willing, and he clearly begrudged the word, to guarantee the safety—and freedom—of your...friends.
The astonishment must have shown on Kaylin’s face, because Sedarias asked, instantly, what had happened.
“I’m indirectly in contact with the Consort.”
Since Barrani eyes in this gathering were already all the bad blue color, Sedarias’s didn’t get any darker. “And?”
“She—she wants us to go back.”
“And we’d like to be wealthy and powerful beyond all compare. What of it?”
“No, I mean—she says she’ll guarantee your safety and freedom.”
“Ours?” Sedarias glanced at Bellusdeo. This surprised Kaylin.
“She already promised that she wouldn’t harm either me or the Dragon.”
“Oh?”
“When we left Kariastos, and the portal path. She made it clear she had never had any intention of harming or caging us.” At Sedarias’s expression, she continued. “She didn’t want us to come to Ravellon. She was afraid of what would happen.”
“To you.”
Kaylin shrugged.
“Are you a complete fool?” One of the cohort laughed. It certainly wasn’t Sedarias, who had asked the outraged question. “We have historically already clashed at least once with the Consort and her forces. You must remember it—you were there. She has every right to be suspicious of us; she has every right to take sensible precautions!”
“And you wanted to be trapped in those sensible precautions? You wanted me to accept them without even knowing what they were? Without being informed, or asked for an opinion or anything?”
“Of course not! But there is no reason whatsoever why you—and the Dragon—should not have accepted the Hallionne’s safety and hospitality!”
Terrano’s attention was bouncing between Kaylin and Sedarias. “I think,” he said, when it was Kaylin’s turn to speak, “we should stop shouting. I’m not certain how much the Shadows in Ravellon are aware of, but we probably don’t want to attract attention. Any attention. At all.” He was glaring at the cohort, not Kaylin.
Sedarias was fuming. She was capable of the stony neutrality of her kind, but it had apparently failed to become her natural, normal expression.
It was Bellusdeo who came to the rescue, metaphorically speaking. She said, “I know where Tiamaris is.”
The cohort looked at Kaylin as Kaylin turned to Bellusdeo. “How?”
“We lost our lands, and our world, to Shadow. But we fought it for a long time. Do you see the reddish glow there, in the distance?”
Kaylin’s eyes were neither draconian nor Barrani. Terrano said, “To the left?”
Bellusdeo nodded. “Those are specific signal lights; we used them to mark decaying borders and areas of great concern. They are magical in nature, and they can be seen if Shadows envelope the land. The Norannir are there, and they keep those fires burning. They don’t,” she added, half-apologetically, “trust your Towers.”
“Can you lead us there?”
The Dragon nodded. “I am ill-prepared for combat, but—yes. Can we assume that the Tower closest to the fires is the one we want?”
“I hope so.”