“...Is there any large body of water here?”
“There is no body of water with which you could commune, if that is your desire. Should you repair to the Hallionne near the heart of the green, there is the fountain. Or if you wish to visit my home, you might also make the attempt.”
The Consort is getting annoyed, Ynpharion said.
At me? Or at her brother?
Very reluctantly—or so it felt to Kaylin—Ynpharion said, at her brother.
Does she—does she think he had something to do with whatever happened to the cohort?
I do not know.
Just ask her!
Lord Kaylin, what she tolerates from you, a mortal with terrible manners even for your kind, she will not tolerate from a Barrani Lord who serves her. She has not said that she does, and if she has not said it, she does not mean for me to convey that opinion.
You can’t tell?
She holds my name. I do not hold hers.
But—Nightshade can tell what I’m thinking, and I hold his name.
That is because you lack will and strength. Truly, if the outcaste desired it, he could wrest control from you with very little effort. And that is true, as well, of the Lord of the West March. I understand the inhibitions placed upon the Lord of the West March; there would be consequences should he do so. I fail to understand what prevents the outcaste from regaining control of his name. Regardless, I cannot answer your question because I cannot repeat it.
The Lord of the West March turned to the Hallionne Orbaranne. “If it will not trouble you overmuch, we will perhaps entertain our guests in the hall here.”
“Good,” Kaylin said, deciding. “Perhaps you can tell us what happened to the people who made their way to Orbaranne.”
He met her gaze and held it in uncomfortable silence.
13
Kaylin sat at the table upon which food had magically appeared. Her appetite had not returned, and would not return for some time, but at least the sight and scent of food didn’t make her nausea any worse. Bellusdeo looked at the food as well, as if assessing the likelihood that it contained poison. There was no fear in her expression; her eyes were orange, but that suddenly seemed a sensible color. At least they weren’t the blood red of fury that implied someone was about to die.
Kaylin had no illusions. If Bellusdeo went full-on Dragon here, it was Bellusdeo who’d die. And Bellusdeo, no fool, probably understood this better than she did. But this Bellusdeo, Kaylin had almost never seen. She was Imperial. Regal. She looked almost disturbingly Barrani; no hair out of place, no motion that was not graceful or deliberate. She took the seat that was held out for her—by the Hallionne, not the Lord of the West March; she fiddled with the various bits and pieces of junk that came before formal dinner—napkins, cutlery, weird plates.
Kaylin felt almost embarrassed. This style of social manners had not been part of Bellusdeo’s kingdom when she ruled it; she still considered it far too Barrani to be adopted by Dragons. But...she clearly, in spite of that, had learned, and learned perfectly. Kaylin once again felt like she was coming to the dinner table after she’d just run down a criminal suspect across two warrens.
“Hallionne Orbaranne, could you please tell us what you think happened? We know that Sedarias and the rest of her friends set out from the Hallionne Alsanis by the portal paths. They wished to arrive in Elantra quickly, and felt that the weeks of overground passage would cause too much of a delay.”
“The portal paths are not taken except in cases of emergency,” the Hallionne replied, “as I believe you know from your past experience.” Her voice was neutral, the way stone was neutral. Kaylin hadn’t expected that, and was surprised at how it stung.
“Could we take the portal paths now?”
Silence.
“Did the Hallionne not just say that they were not to be taken except in cases of emergency?” The Lord of the West March said.
“It’s an emergency,” Kaylin replied, in just as stony a tone as the Hallionne had used. “And I need to speak with Alsanis.”
“You might, at the Hallionne Orbaranne’s discretion, speak to him from here.”
“It won’t be the same, and you know it. They left the Hallionne Alsanis, and when they left they were safe. If they chose to take the portal paths, they did so from Alsanis. He’s aware of them in ways that nothing else is.” She tried very hard not to fold her arms defensively, and only barely succeeded. She was very, very troubled by the Consort’s advice. “And I have a pressing emergency.”
“Oh?”
“Your sister, the Consort, has graciously accepted an invitation to dine at my home in three days. If we can’t use the portal paths—”
“There is no way that you will arrive in Elantra in three days. I suggest you avail yourself of the mirrors here to inform the Consort that you will have to reschedule her dinner.”
“Fine. I’ll also need to talk to Helen.”
“Your home.”
“Yes. She’s probably going to be worried.”
*
That was, of course, an understatement, if a hopeful one. Helen did answer the mirror call. She was standing in her one safe room, and her eyes were obsidian. Literally. She had also ditched the more maternal lines and wrinkles that implied gentle smiles from the corners of her eyes and mouth; her hair was pulled back from her face in a very, very martial way.
Her voice, however, was mostly normal. “Grethan carried word from the Keeper,” Helen said, after Kaylin had blurted out both an apology and a précis of their current location. “I should possibly inform you that the Imperial Court is also aware of what happened.”
Kaylin couldn’t help it. Her shoulders sagged. “Has the Emperor called?”
“No. Lord Emmerian, however, visited in person. I would suggest that you make contact with him. Or possibly the Arkon.”
“They won’t accept a mirror call from this source,” Bellusdeo unexpectedly said.
“I will endeavor to pass a message on, then. You are well?” she asked the Dragon.
“Yes. I have been treated as a guest, not a prisoner of war.”
“I don’t believe the Barrani took Dragons as prisoners,” Helen pointed out.
An unfortunate silence followed her words. Kaylin rushed to fill it. “I need to let the Consort know—”
“I do believe the High Halls will accept the message that the Imperial Palace will not. I should add that your familiar was somewhat agitated, and he is en route to you now. He asks that you not do anything foolish before he arrives.”
She looked past Kaylin to the Avatar of Orbaranne, then. “Kaylin,” she said, to the Hallionne, “is my Lord. She is my chosen Lord.” As if one building that was immobile could threaten another building that was immobile.
Orbaranne, however, nodded as if she had expected no less. “Lord Kaylin saved my life,” she replied, voice grave. “I owe her a debt of honor.”
“And that is not a debt you owe to Annarion and Mandoran’s brethren.”
“No, Helen. The two are with you, then?”
“They are, indeed, under my protection. As is the Dragon who is currently your guest.”