Mascot. Ugh.
Sanabalis, in his personal lessons, had been more expansive, but as far as Kaylin could tell, his answer was essentially the same thing—just more easily interrupted with questions. She didn’t have to pass his lessons to be a Hawk. But she’d never really understood what that “magic” was. Not until she’d entered the portal paths that existed between the Hallionne. Unlike these portals, or the horrible one that led into Castle Nightshade, the paths were exactly that: paths. But they crossed through a very strange dimension in which geography was fluid: it could be a forest. It could be a desert. It could be shimmering, ugly landscape that was just one step away from the Shadow that devoured the living who dared to enter Ravellon, the heart of the fiefs.
This space was not those paths. It was, in theory, very like the portal that led to Nightshade’s interior domain.
Or it should have been. But to either side she could see what she could only describe as the ghosts of trees—majestic, tall, haunting and ultimately...lost. She could see spires, shimmering as if stone had brilliant color, in the distance beyond and above those trees. She could hear the faint, attenuated echo of birdsong—birds that were as insubstantial as these trees.
The ground beneath her feet rumbled, as if in time to her unsteady steps. She couldn’t see Bellusdeo. She reached out to the Lord of the West March and heard...nothing. Nothing but birds.
Portals had tunnels that one could follow; there was a beginning and an end, no matter how wobbly they became. This was therefore unlike those paths. The trees weren’t solid enough to be real landscape, but as she looked at them, she realized they weren’t lining a path. It was as if she was lost in the dream of a long ago forest.
She did not want to be lost here. She took a step forward, and again, the ground rumbled, swaying beneath her feet. The motion transferred itself up her body and into her head; she clenched her jaw, took two more steps, and stopped. She gave up on walking on two feet. Placing her hands on the ground, she swore—but this was not the first time she would emerge from a portal she had traversed on her hands and knees.
And at least the ground here wouldn’t wear out her clothing.
She regretted eating lunch. Or eating anything, ever.
Not that way. Not that way, Kaylin.
Had the voice not been distinctly feminine, Kaylin would have assumed that it was the Lord of the West March. Maybe it was the Hallionne Orbaranne. But no, that seemed wrong. Something about the voice was familiar, and she lifted her head, turning to see where the voice had come from.
No. Close your eyes. You shouldn’t be here. You have to leave.
“Who is this? Who’s speaking?”
We will make our own way out. Or—
“This is a portal. It’s meant to take me from one part of Orbaranne to another part. It’s a shortcut.” She spit the last word out with venomous sarcasm worthy of a Dragon.
It is not, Chosen.
Chosen.
It is not a path that we can follow. To even approach it is costly, and I cannot remain stable for long. But you are going the wrong way. Close your eyes. Close them, and your world will reassert itself. Move forward, Chosen. It would kill Teela to lose you.
She opened her eyes. “Sedarias? Wait! Sedarias—we’re here because of you! What happened? Where are you?”
But there was silence. Kaylin waited for an answer on her hands and knees, but the voice did not come again. And after what felt like an hour, she closed her eyes and began to move forward, pushing against the viscous air.
*
Sedarias had not lied. Kaylin managed to crawl her way across the shifting nothing, and that nothing suddenly resolved itself into wood that was cool but not cold beneath her hands. Her palms were wet; her arms were shaking.
“Kaylin,” Bellusdeo said, her voice accented with worry.
“Give me a second,” Kaylin replied, struggling to maintain her grip on whatever it was she’d put in her stomach hours ago. She took several deep breaths, filling her lungs in an attempt to drive back the taste of salt and water that almost flooded her mouth.
“This is why you don’t like portals.”
“No—this is worse.” She took deep, even breaths while she waited for the nausea to pass.
“Lord Kaylin.”
Great. What she really wanted was to throw up on the feet of the Lord of the West March. At least she assumed they were his feet. She didn’t lift her head to find out. As if he could hear that thought—and damn the True Name, he probably could—he crouched down.
“I’m not good with portals or certain types of magic,” she told him. “Just give me a couple more minutes. We have a problem.”
“More of a problem?” Bellusdeo asked.
“Yes. I think Teela’s friends are trapped in the portal space.”
*
Fifteen minutes later, Kaylin was seated at an otherwise unoccupied dining table. It was far too large for four people—the fourth being the Avatar of Orbaranne—but much more modest in size than any table that had appeared before the delegation from the High Court. Food had been laid out, but not even the lessons of early years of near starvation could compel Kaylin to eat any of it.
The warmth of concern on the Lord of the West March’s face had been obliterated by an entirely different type of concern. “You are certain?”
“I’d bet my own money on it.”
He raised a brow.
“Yes, I’m certain.”
“All of them?”
“At least one of them. I almost got lost between the opening of the portal and the dining hall.”
“Pardon?” he asked, as Bellusdeo said, “How did you manage that?” The Barrani Lord and the Dragon eyed each other warily.
“The usual way. I entered the portal.” She exhaled, still feeling shaky. “Portals, for me, have almost never been like stepping through a door. I think that’s the way they work for most people. I don’t know if it’s the marks of the Chosen, or if I’m just naturally incompatible. When I step through a portal, in the best case, I step into a long tunnel. Often a long, ugly tunnel with a very unstable floor. At the end of the tunnel, however long and punishing it is, there’s the other side of the portal, and the exit. I just have to get there.” Sometimes by crawling.
“And this time?” the Hallionne asked. Both Bellusdeo and the Lord of the West March looked at her, but she failed to notice. Or failed to react.
“I don’t know how to describe it. But you can see what I’m thinking of, can’t you?”
“It is very disjointed.”
“So are portals.” Kaylin exhaled. “I think we’re here to find Teela’s friends, and I’m almost certain that the person who spoke to me—”
“Someone spoke to you?”
“Yes. When I was trying to find the way out. They told me I was going in the wrong direction.”
She turned toward Orbaranne, who was likewise standing. “What happened?”
“I am uncertain. How did you arrive?”