Kaylin bowed her head for a moment, a gesture of instinctive respect for the lost. But when she lifted it, she said, “Neutral doesn’t mean unobservant.”
The Consort’s smile deepened. “No. It is unusual for someone to come to me seeking political advice, however.” Unusual as a description didn’t cut it, according to Ynpharion who was just one side of enraged. The wrong side, as it happened.
“There’s no one else. Teela won’t talk to me at all.”
“Perhaps there are reasons for that. And perhaps that is why she accompanied you today.”
“I doubt it.”
“Then explain why you want information about Candallar.” The Consort was watching Teela, although in theory the question had been aimed at Kaylin.
Kaylin sucked in air. It’s Hawk business as a reply wasn’t going to get her anything, and she knew it. “Fine. You know that Mandoran and Annarion are living with me, right?”
“I’d suggest you continue to speak in High Barrani,” Teela said quietly.
“I am aware, yes. I believe most of the Court is aware of their current placement.” The words and tone were neutral.
“I like them both,” Kaylin continued, trying—and failing—to keep defensiveness out of her voice. “Mandoran, I’m told, is what you’d consider childish. Annarion isn’t.”
The Consort nodded, her expression hooded.
Kaylin teetered for one long minute, trying to choose the words for her next sentence, and finding that there were far too many of them demanding her attention. Or demanding the Consort’s. She wanted to know about Candallar. It had been the reason she had requested the meeting—a meeting that had been granted with almost alarming speed.
But last night had upended priorities, as emergencies often did. And if Annarion and Mandoran weren’t like Teela anymore, Teela was still one of them. She was just better at hiding panic because she’d had centuries of practice.
“You’re aware that the rest of their friends have decided to come to Elantra.” It wasn’t a question.
The Consort nodded.
“They left the West March. They were traveling the portal paths—don’t ask me why, I think it’s suicidal. But something happened to them on the way there, and now we have no contact with them.”
The Consort’s eyes had not shifted back to green, and given the way the rest of her expression changed, they weren’t going to today, either.
“We think they were attacked.”
“Were they attacked by the Hallionne?”
“We don’t have that information.”
“The Hallionne are not political.”
“They were created for war.”
“Not entirely. Hallionne Alsanis protected Teela’s friends. In as much as they were allowed to be, they were his only company. But in order to escape the cage he made for them, they altered themselves—or so Alsanis believes.”
“You’ve spoken with Alsanis.”
“Does it surprise you?”
Did it? Kaylin examined the question. “You spoke with him after we returned from the green.”
She nodded. “I will not ask you how Annarion and Mandoran fare. They have not come to the High Halls, and they have not been formally introduced to me. Even were they to desire such an introduction, it is likely it would be denied. I could actively campaign to meet with them, but the High Halls are not the Hallionne. If Annarion and Mandoran are a danger—if they are an unintentional danger—I cannot in good conscience take that risk.” She waited.
And Kaylin heard herself say, “You could come meet them at my place.”
“That is very thoughtful of you,” the Consort said, affecting a surprise Kaylin was suddenly certain she did not feel.
Ynpharion was both elated and furious. Elated because Kaylin had managed against all odds to do exactly as the Consort wished her to do, but could not—for political reasons—demand or even ask, and furious because Kaylin had failed to understand the very obvious request until the last minute.
“I know you’re pretty busy,” Kaylin began.
An’Teela is correct. Speak in High Barrani.
“So you might not be able to make it anytime soon,” she continued, irritated enough to ignore what was just possibly good advice. “But you’d be welcome to just show up at any time.”
The Consort laughed. Her laughter was almost the essence of delight, and her eyes practically glowed green. She did hug Kaylin, then, and Kaylin didn’t even hesitate to return that hug.
“Ynpharion is much more typical of my kin than either Lord Nightshade or my brother.”
“I don’t suppose you know how to rid someone of the knowledge of a True Name?”
“Outside of perhaps death, no. And even if I did, I would not share.” In a more serious tone, she added, “He is my one conduit to you, and he understands why you are important. He is not, perhaps, overjoyed—but joy is not a characteristic of my people; it is considered too youthful, and therefore, too easily destroyed.” She stepped back. “We are not so informal as An’Teela might be, for she is kyuthe to you, and I am not.
“But if you would be willing to entertain in perhaps three days, I will visit.”
Kaylin said yes, without thinking.
*
The thought part came later, in a carriage that was almost chilly with Teela’s silence.
Since Teela and Kaylin did not share knowledge of a True Name, Kaylin wasn’t privy to Teela’s thoughts—not that it was actually necessary.
“You did not get the information you sought,” Teela said pointedly. “You allowed yourself to be sidetracked.”
“I allowed myself to be sidetracked,” Kaylin countered, “because it’s probably impossible for her to say much that isn’t heard or reported on. I can guarantee that that won’t happen if she’s with Helen.”
“That is almost a good excuse.”
“Almost? No, wait, I’ve got this. Almost doesn’t cut it.”
Teela exhaled. She glared at the familiar, who squawked and shrugged. “I realize you are not responsible for her, but honestly, could you not do something?”
Squawk.
“Look—being shouted at is probably better than being third-personed. And I did what she wanted.”
“I have no doubt of that; she was not particularly subtle. In fact, she was possibly the exact opposite of subtle. But she is a power, Kaylin, and she is Consort to the High Lord. The concerns raised at Court about my cohort are valid; they are real concerns.”
“Someone’s trying to use those concerns in an entirely invalid way.”
“And?” Teela wore her most water-is-wet expression. “Everything is a tool.”
“I’d like the Hawks to go back to a semblance of normal.”
“Ah. That.”
“I’m sure Candallar was meeting with Barrani Hawks.”
“Yes.” The water-is-wet look receded. “I would like you to stay out of my business.”