“She really is in a mood.”
“Mandoran feels vindicated, dear.” Of course he did. “Annarion apologizes for his interference—but given Teela’s reaction, he feels that it was nonetheless necessary. Will you be coming home?”
“Yes—I want to make one quick stop before I do.”
“I don’t think Teela was joking, dear.”
“She said ‘if she sees me,’ right?”
Bellusdeo leaned into the mirror. “I will bring her home. She will not go anywhere near the East Warrens, which is where I assume Teela is heading. And if the boys know, don’t repeat it until we’re home. We may be late,” she continued, glancing at Kaylin’s mutinous expression, “but if we’re late it will be because we have stopped by Evanton’s. The Keeper requested Kaylin’s intervention with the wild water.”
“Oh?”
“It’s about the Hallionne.”
“Oh. I suppose you would like me not to mention this to the boys?”
“I don’t particularly care if you do—you’re the one who’s going to have to deal with their reaction. But tell them if they attempt to leave in pursuit of either Teela or Kaylin, I will personally melt the hair off their Barrani heads.”
Helen’s Avatar opened her mouth.
“I will. You can protect them when we’re all at home, but you can’t if we’re not—and if they leave the house, they won’t have you to back them up.” The entire sentence was offered in Elantran.
Helen smiled. “I will pass the message on. Mandoran is going to be annoyed.”
“Mandoran is always annoyed.” Bellusdeo lifted a hand and cut the mirror connection.
“The Emperor would be annoyed,” Lord Sanabalis told her. He had waited until the only witness to the comment was Kaylin herself.
“And that will be his problem.”
Kaylin winced. Sanabalis’s eyes were a pale shade of orange. He turned to Kaylin and offered her a slight nod. “It’s been a while since our last lesson, hasn’t it? I’m sure you’ve been practicing in my absence.”
“I...uh, I’ve been really busy.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“The Arkon’s coming to dinner with us.”
“That had escaped my attention. I’m sure the Emperor will be relieved.”
Bellusdeo snorted smoke. “Come on,” she said, grabbing Kaylin by the arm. “If I don’t get out of the palace, I’ll burn a wall down—and then hate myself for my lack of self-control in the morning. And in the morning, I’ll be in our house, not here.”
“...Where the rest of us will have to deal with it.”
“Exactly.”
“Leaving now.” Kaylin turned, bowed deeply to Sanabalis—and properly, judging by the way his brows rose in surprise—and allowed herself to be bodily dragged from his rooms.
*
“There is no point fretting,” Bellusdeo said sharply as she settled herself into the carriage.
“Why can’t we walk?”
“It will take longer and I need to cool down before I see anything else that annoys me.”
“Diarmat?”
“Everything. The constant reminders of my uselessness.”
“No one said—” Kaylin stopped herself. She understood how Bellusdeo felt because it was clear that Diarmat considered her exactly that. She was not, in his opinion, a member of the Dragon Court, because the vows necessary to join it would never in a million years be uttered by Bellusdeo.
“Exactly. You’re certain the Keeper is expecting you?”
“As in, to show up right now? Probably not. He won’t throw me out, and he won’t throw you out, either. He probably won’t offer me any cookies.”
“He’ll probably offer you something, given the noise your stomach is making.”
*
Evanton did not answer the door, but that was no longer surprising. Grethan did. Grethan, however, was dressed in a fine blue robe that was similar to the robe Evanton wore while in the garden. His eyes were the Tha’alani color of relief—not quite gold, but not quite calm, either.
Kaylin stared at him; the familiar fled, as always, to the apprentice’s shoulders. “Is everything okay?”
Grethan shook his head. The Tha’alani were not among nature’s liars, and Grethan, cut off from their group mind for the majority of his life, had nonetheless not fared much better. Under Evanton’s tutelage, he’d given up trying. The Tha’alani didn’t hide.
They didn’t need to hide.
“Something’s upset the elemental water. It’s—”
“It’s not storming around the garden, is it?” She thought of the first time Mandoran had entered the Keeper’s domain and shuddered.
“N-no. The water is talking to Evanton, but...it’s kind of agitated. We’re kind of hoping to avoid a flood.”
She remembered the flooding in the rest of the building, as well, and glanced back at Bellusdeo.
“Do not even think it. Anything you can survive, I can survive.” Bellusdeo had a killer glare, which was leveled, all orange-eyed, at Kaylin.
“I was just thinking you don’t particularly like swimming or almost drowning. And your clothing might get wrecked.”
“I’m not the one who has to answer to the quartermaster, you are.”
“Fine. But don’t blame anything on me, okay?”
Bellusdeo chuckled. “If I wanted to do that, I’d have to stand in line. A very long line.”
*
Grethan led them down the rickety, narrow hall that pretty much forced visitors to walk single file.
“Why are you wearing that robe, anyway?”
“Evanton thought it might calm the water.”
“Pardon?”
“The color. And the gesture of respect.”
Kaylin shook her head.
“I’m not the Keeper—he is. And it didn’t make much sense to me, either, but I didn’t figure there was any harm in trying.” The familiar on his shoulder squawked—at Kaylin.
“Fair enough. Look—are we going to get soaked?”
“Not unless something’s changed in the last five minutes.”
“Time doesn’t pass the same way in the garden.”
“It does if Evanton’s really determined—but yes, it takes effort, and yes, it makes him grouchy. He says it gives him a headache.”
“I don’t envy you.”
“At least he’s not a Leontine who threatens to rip my throat out to keep me in line.”
“Or fire her,” Bellusdeo added. “He’s done that a few times as well.”
If the hall had been wider, Kaylin would have pushed past Grethan and into the garden just to escape the conversation she was sandwiched between. As it was, she counted. She’d been told that counting to ten was a way of cooling off. She was still skeptical, but apparently it only worked if you managed to reach a certain number.
Grethan could talk and open doors at the same time, and as the door opened, the room seemed to lurch out from around its frame to envelope the visitors.
Or rather, the water did. Like a hand made of liquid, enormous fingers reached out to wrap themselves around the Dragon and the Hawk. They seemed to ignore Grethan, but he was almost part of the garden, rather than a visitor. Or interloper. The water was cold.
“Remember,” Kaylin said, as they were drawn into the room, “it’s not my fault.”
*