“Even if it’s true.”
“Indeed; very often it is the truths we hide that have the capacity to destroy us should they see light. Lord Kaylin, you have experience now with Annarion and Mandoran. Annarion wishes to take back his family lands, and to do so, he must face the Tower. He must face...this.”
“It’s why—it’s why the rest of his friends left the green. If he’s going to face that test, they want to do it together.”
“Lord of the West March.” The High Lord turned his attention to his brother. “You are correct. We have spoken little with Alsanis. But our sister has. We would, however, appreciate the return of Lord Kaylin. While it is unusual for so junior a Lord to extend such an informal invitation to our sister, it is the first opportunity we have had to observe two of the children in a less heated, political context.
“Unfortunately, that opportunity appears to have been lost. Even if she chose to risk the portal paths, I do not believe Lord Kaylin would return to the city in time.”
“Perhaps the elemental water could be compelled to deliver her.”
“No,” the Consort said, before Kaylin could speak. “We will wait. Take no unnecessary risks, Lord Kaylin. Although you are mortal and barely considered by the powerful to be part of the High Court, you have now engaged in the politics at its heart. Be wary.
“And now, we must part. The mirror that I am currently using is reaching the end of its life. I am grateful that you chose to call at this particular moment. Lirienne, be well.”
The image shattered. Silver reflection, however, did not return to the mirror’s surface. Instead, the mirror faded, slowly and completely, from sight.
The Hallionne and the Lord of the West March exchanged a long, silent glance.
Bellusdeo pulled Kaylin back, as if that glance was somehow dangerous. “Now the Emperor is going to be unhappy,” she said, her eyes almost gold.
“Because?”
“Barrani politics were ever deadly to the Barrani. But at war, they could be magnificent in their own right.”
“You didn’t fight in those wars.”
“No. In the end, I fought in a greater war. And lost.”
“You’re still alive.”
“Yes.” She smiled. “Wait until they are finished conversing, and then let us go in search of the water.”
*
The conversation, such as it was, continued for long enough that Kaylin gave up on the waiting and started in on the eating.
“You are not afraid of poison?”
“It’s a Hallionne. The food is produced by Orbaranne. If Orbaranne wanted to kill us, we’d be dead already.”
“You’re just hungry.”
“Evanton didn’t even offer cookies.”
Bellusdeo snorted. With smoke. She took a chair at the table upon which food had appeared, but did so stiffly and almost regally. Kaylin felt a bit guilty. But mostly, she felt hungry. Around food, she said, “The Hallionne won’t hurt anyone she’s accepted as a guest.”
“You like the Hallionne.”
“I don’t know them well enough to like them,” Kaylin countered. “But...I feel mostly safe in them. When they’re not under siege. I don’t think the Hallionne can be ordered to kill their guests, even by the lords of the lands in which they stand.”
“You are certain?”
“I couldn’t order Helen to kill any of our guests.”
“Tiamaris could order Tara to do so.”
Kaylin shrugged, but thought about this. It was easier to think on a full stomach, anyway. “Yes. He could. But the Towers in the fiefs aren’t the same as the Hallionne. I think that Helen could have been ordered to kill her guests at one point—but I think she broke whatever it was that controlled that.”
“Could you order her not to kill?”
“I don’t know. That’s a good question. I think I could ask, and I think she would listen. She’s not a weapon.”
“No. More of a shield, I would think.”
They ate in silence until the Lord of the West March joined them at the table. Then they ate in an entirely different kind of silence.
“Lord Kaylin,” he finally said.
She looked up, chewed quickly, and swallowed. “Yes?”
“You have passed the tower’s Test. You are part of the High Court.”
Ugh. “Yes.”
“You have sheltered Annarion and Mandoran, as you call them.”
“What do you mean, as I call them?”
“Their names are longer, in our Court—or would be, if they emerge from that test themselves. You have seen them; according to my sister, you have fought by their side. Tell me, as the one who helped them emerge from their long captivity, do you feel they will succeed?”
She blinked. “Yes?”
His smile was crooked. “That is not, perhaps, the confident assertion I was seeking.”
“I don’t know what they’ll see. They sometimes see things I can’t. My house can see what they see,” she added quickly, “and my familiar can see it as well. But I don’t see what they do. Teela can only see what they see if—” She stopped.
He allowed this. “And you think this without risk?”
Did she? She fell silent, and began to push food around in patterns on her plate. She understood what he was asking, and she was suddenly aware that she’d already been far too honest; she’d thought about the question, not the person asking it, and not the political environment that surrounded that person. She inhaled and put her cutlery aside. “Did you have something to do with their disappearance?”
Bellusdeo coughed.
“Is that what my sister thinks?”
“I don’t know—ask your sister. I’m not her, and I can’t answer for her.”
How unusually perceptive of you.
Shut up, Ynpharion.
“Did you have something to do with their disappearance?”
“How could I?”
“That’s not a no.”
“Is it not? I might remind you that I am Lord of the West March, and you are currently situated almost in the heart of my domain. You are, of course, a servant of the Imperial Law, but Lord Kaylin, you are not in the Empire at the moment. Here, you are not a Hawk. Not a groundhawk. You are Lord Kaylin, but more shabbily clothed.” It was a warning. Even if she had been extremely dense, she could feel the subtle threat through the bond of his name. She had never felt it there before.
“I owe you—and indirectly, An’Teela—my life. But that debt does not cover the safety of, the existence of, my people.”
“The Lords who might be disenfranchised are not part of the safety of your people; at best, they’re support for your rule.”
“For the High Lord’s rule, yes.”
“But if I understand that mirroring, the High Lord is willing to take the risk.”
“Perhaps it is because he does not understand that risk. Tell me that you honestly believe there is no risk.”
She couldn’t. Instead, she said, “Tell me that you honestly had nothing to do with whatever did happen to the cohort. I mean, to Sedarias and the rest of her companions.”
“Sedarias, is it?”