“Who are you expecting?”
“From her expression, I’d guess it’s the Lord of the West March.” Kaylin reddened. She was not, as it happened, wearing the ring that he had given her—the most obvious public symbol of his claim of chosen kinship. It was safe at home. Of course it was.
It is not required. I believe I would recognize you without it. But why do you leave it at home? It is not so plain or so poorly made that it would be an embarrassment to be seen wearing it, surely? Even among your mortal kin, who would not recognize its significance.
She had forgotten—she always forgot—what his voice was like. It was not Nightshade’s, and it was certainly not Ynpharion’s; it was warmer, somehow more open than either.
It is meant for those of my kin who might otherwise fail to understand your significance. It leaves them without the pathetic excuse of ignorance, should they decide to harm you. You have heard that there has been an...incident.
I’d heard something, yes. She exhaled. Out loud, she said, “The Consort told me the cohort were traveling along the portal paths.”
Cohort?
“You are speaking to someone who is not me, I assume,” Bellusdeo said.
“Yes, sorry.”
“The Hallionne?”
“No. The Lord of the West March.”
Bellusdeo smiled. “I really did resent being left behind, you know.”
“When I was sent out here the first time?”
The Dragon nodded. “I feel almost grateful to the Keeper for the opportunity.”
“The Emperor is going to kill me.”
“I imagine he won’t be pleased, no,” Bellusdeo said. Her eyes were almost gold. “But he is a Dragon, not a mortal. I would be more concerned about your sergeant, in this case.”
“Sergeant?”
“The Dragon Court understands both the function and necessity of the Keeper. The Emperor is therefore unlikely to blame you for anything that occurred. Your sergeant, however, might see it differently when you take a sudden leave of absence without permission.” At Kaylin’s expression, she snickered. “I have to admit, I’ve grown almost fond of him. I did not care for him when we first met.”
“He doesn’t care for the Dragon Court.”
“Yet he devotes his life to defending and upholding the Emperor’s Law.”
“The laws are mostly good. And we owe allegiance to the laws, not the Emperor directly.”
“They are not different.”
“They are.”
“In the worst case, the Emperor could merely change the law, and you would be honor bound to defend it.”
“It’s still different,” Kaylin insisted.
“It is indeed different,” Orbaranne said. Kaylin looked around for the source of the voice, but stopped herself; she should be used to it by now. After all, Helen’s voice was frequently completely disembodied. “But these lands are not Imperial lands, and the laws are different here. The Emperor does not rule them. The Lord of the West March does.”
“But...”
“Yes?”
“The High Court is in the heart of the Empire.”
“Yes.”
“And the High Lord is therefore expected to respect Imperial Law. He’s part of the Empire.”
“Yes.”
“And the High Lord is the man the Lord of the West March serves.”
“Indeed. But Lord Kaylin, the fiefs are also in the heart of the Empire. And the fieflords are not considered citizens.”
“How do you know that?”
“I know it because you know it, and you once took shelter here. No,” Orbaranne said, her voice softening. “You did far more than take shelter. Were it not for you, I would not be here now. The Hallionne Orbaranne would be gone. Come. The Lord of the West March is impatient.”
Given Kaylin’s prior experience of the Lord of the West March, she doubted that the impatience was his.
Indeed, kyuthe, it is not. I have not visited Orbaranne much since you left, and this is not a social call. She is lonely, he added, his internal voice soft as well. Although you did much to alleviate that in your time.
I don’t get it. Isn’t she with you?
Yes and no. She is in all places, as the Hallionne naturally are, but she wishes to simply be in one. Tell me, did you truthfully bring a Dragon?
Not on purpose, and no I didn’t. Remembering what Bellusdeo had said about the phrase it’s not my fault, Kaylin refrained from using it. The water sent us here.
His inner voice stilled completely. After a pause that felt long and significant, he said, I have asked the Hallionne to shorten your walk significantly.
Kaylin knew that the buildings could rearrange themselves to suit their guests, and guessed that Orbaranne would probably turn herself into a pretzel for the Lord of the West March’s convenience. She therefore expected that the halls would shorten or even disappear.
She was very, very disheartened to see the portal that shimmered into existence three yards ahead of them. She managed a very politic “Ugh, portal,” which probably hid nothing given the internal Leontine phrases she was picking between.
“It is safe,” Orbaranne said. “And the Lord believes it necessary, now.” Her voice was heavier, less polished with silent enthusiasm. “It will harm neither you nor Bellusdeo.”
“Oh, I’m not worried,” Bellusdeo said to the empty air. “I don’t have a problem with portals. Kaylin, however, finds them very, very difficult.”
“Oh?”
“They make her nauseous. Nauseated? I’m uncertain which is the correct word.”
“It doesn’t matter,” was Kaylin’s grimmer than necessary reply. “Let’s just get this over with.”
*
There were certain phrases Kaylin had learned never to use, chief among them: How bad can it be? She was ready to add let’s just get this over with to the list of forbidden sentences. She was braced, had been braced, for the dizziness caused by swarming lights, the instability of visible floor, and the sudden shift in temperature between one step and the next. She was prepared for a great, long tunnel, with an end that could be seen but could not be reached, because while other people apparently stepped into portals as if they were open doorways, that did not happen for Kaylin.
But this time, it was worse. Magical theory held that portals were created by stitching two patches of reality together with binding magic, as if each segment of the real world were just a chunk of cloth that could be manipulated that way. This was almost exactly the explanation that Kaylin had been given in the magical education classes she’d received after her application to become a real Hawk, not just an official mascot, had been accepted.