This time she did not answer. Kaylin understood; she turned to face the Lord of the West March. “Was it you?”
“I asked the Hallionne to monitor them. I also asked the Hallionne to house them. Any evaluation of their abilities or their intent could not be carried out were they to remain outside of the Hallionne’s boundary.” Kaylin opened her mouth. The Lord of the West March, however, had not finished. “I wished to know,” he continued, “if Orbaranne would recognize them. Once one has been accepted as a guest in a Hallionne, one will be accepted as a guest in future. The grant of blood—in most cases—is almost definitional.”
“Outcastes?”
“The Hallionne do not recognize outcastes as outcaste unless exceptional circumstances arise. Once the Hallionne has accepted the responsibility of hospitality, it will always be extended. There is a reason Lord Severn could travel these pathways, even with the marked disapproval of the High Court. The...changes, the alterations, in the group you refer to as the cohort, are changes that would be impossible for any others of my kin.”
Bellusdeo said, “I did not give blood.”
“No. Nor will you be asked, but your circumstances are unusual.”
“The water?” Kaylin asked.
Bellusdeo snorted smoke. “The Consort,” the gold Dragon said, although the question had been asked of the Lord of the West March. To Orbaranne, she said, “Was the Water’s decision to bring us here influenced by the Consort? ”
Something wordless passed between the Hallionne and the Lord of the West March. It was the latter who replied. “Not in my estimation. My sister is not without power, but the power necessary to command the Water to do what was done—at great cost to the Water itself—is not power she possesses.”
Or not power Lirienne was aware she possessed, at any rate.
No, kyuthe. It is not an ability she possesses. Even the potential for power of this kind would have been noted.
“She probably thought I’d arrive with the small Dragon, not you,” Kaylin told the large Dragon.
“I believe it is immaterial. What she asked for, the Hallionne granted. I am with you, not the familiar. But that is not the question. How did she know to ask? If she does not, herself, have the ability to command the Water to do her bidding, how was she aware that you, at least, would be here at all?”
To Kaylin’s surprise, Lirienne chuckled. Although his eyes remained blue, there was some hint of green in their shade. “Were it not for Lord Kaylin, they would not have emerged from the green as they did. Two of their number now dwell within Lord Kaylin’s home. If my sister was aware that the cohort encountered unknown danger, she can be forgiven for expecting—or suspecting—that Lord Kaylin would immediately become involved.”
Bellusdeo raised a brow. “And also for assuming that she would be accompanied by someone who had not yet ventured into the Hallionne?”
Silence. It was edged, sharp, suspicious.
Kaylin rushed to fill it, although Bellusdeo was right; neither of them would get answers from the Lord of the West March, and there were other things that were, in the end, more pressing. “Someone found the cohort on the portal paths.” It wasn’t a question.
“Demonstrably.”
“What are the probabilities that their difficulties were caused by non-Barrani?”
The Lord of the West March did not answer.
Terrano, however, snorted. Loudly. He really did remind Kaylin of Mandoran; it made her wonder why Mandoran had stayed. On the other hand, the universe was probably safer for it.
“If not the Lord of the West March, and not the Consort, then who?” Kaylin turned to Orbaranne’s Avatar. “Did any other Barrani Lord come to you with a request or a query?”
Orbaranne looked to Lirienne, who shook his head. Unsurprisingly, the Hallionne failed to answer.
“It wasn’t me,” Terrano said.
“You’re not a Barrani Lord.”
Terrano shrugged. “Neither are my friends.”
“No. But they’re descending on my city—or they were—because they’re going to take the Test of Name. If they pass, they’ll be Lords of the High Court.”
Terrano brightened at the thought. As he considered her words, his smile widened; in the end, he was laughing.
The Lord of the West March was not. “Lord Kaylin.” He rose. “I ask that you speak with Terrano about the experiences of Annarion and Mandoran as they intersect with your city. I will retire for the evening.”
*
“Everything has changed,” Terrano said. Neither he nor Bellusdeo had eaten much. They retired to what Kaylin assumed was her room, given that Bellusdeo was in the Hallionne as an adjunct. Orbaranne, however, had allowed Terrano to enter as well, not a given in a Hallionne, whose duty was to keep guests safe, usually from each other. He flopped, chest down, across the nearest bed.
“You better not have your boots on,” Kaylin told him.
“Why?”
“Dirt.”
“You don’t have to clean it.”
“And it’s rude.”
“Rude.”
“That’s what I said.”
Bellusdeo took a seat on the lounge chair by the wall, content to let Kaylin and Terrano maneuver for space. Only when they were done—for a value of done that had Terrano take off boots that Kaylin was almost certain were not actually real—did she speak.
“I want you to talk to Lord Nightshade about what happened in his Tower. Don’t make that face,” she added, which was technically hard to say in Barrani. She tried Elantran, and Terrano’s face remained blank. Mandoran and Annarion had picked it up from Teela.
“Why him?” he asked.
“Because I have his name.”
Terrano whistled. “I wouldn’t have thought that was safe. I guess I underestimated you.”
“He gave it to me.”
“...Or severely overestimated him.” Before she could speak, Terrano added, “Look we all knew each other’s names. It’s not about sharing names. It’s about who you share them with.”
“You knew him?”
“No. But we heard a lot about him from Annarion, who practically worshipped him.”
Kaylin grimaced. “Not anymore. And believe that my house would be a much happier place if he did.”
“They argue?”
“They argue in my house, yes.”
“Why?”
“Because arguing in Nightshade’s castle almost destroyed the High Halls.” And before he could ask, she told him what had happened, or as much of it as she could clearly remember.
“Kitling,” Bellusdeo said—a warning. Kaylin understood why. If the Emperor knew—if the Emperor understood—why the ancestors had attacked the High Halls, killing anyone that stood in their way...Annarion and Mandoran would be in trouble. The empire was his hoard. But there was no way that the Hallionne would speak with the Eternal Emperor. They were safe.
And Terrano needed to understand. He listened, his eyes luminous although they were still obsidian. “They should have left with me,” he finally said.
“Annarion didn’t want to leave.”
“Sedarias didn’t want to leave. If she’d made a different choice, most of the others would have followed.”
Kaylin hesitated.
But Bellusdeo said, “Sedarias, of all of your cohort, was probably the one least changed.”