Cast in Honor (Chronicles of Elantra, #11)

Ybelline smiled sadly at the girl. “We have not yet fulfilled our part of the bargain.”


“You won’t. You won’t be able to. He’s out there—he’s in the streets, on the Winding Path, trying to keep people from panicking. That’s what my mother told me. That’s what he did—because this is when it started.” She swallowed. “I don’t know anything. I was a baby. I don’t remember.

“But they talked. They told me things. If you—if you can find things in my memories that I can’t—” She swallowed again. “My dad lives. He’s going to live. My mom, too. But he hated that so many people died. He felt like he’d failed. Like they’d all failed. The Swords. The Hawks. The people whose job it was to protect everyone.

“Maybe that’s why I’m here. Or why Gilbert is here. I don’t know.” Tears welled in her eyes. “I was mad at my dad. When he left. When they left to look for whatever it was they were looking for. I—I didn’t say goodbye. I wouldn’t talk to him. He wouldn’t take me with him. And I knew—he was just going to die. I just—” She fought back tears. “I was a terrible daughter. If I could go back—if I could change one thing—I would say goodbye. I would tell him that I loved him. I would tell him.

“...But I can’t. Gilbert wasn’t afraid of you. Kaylin’s not afraid. If—if you can find something in me that can help...do it.”

*

Kattea was almost white, and white did not look good on her. Neither did red-eyed terror. But she held her ground, looking back to Gilbert only once, as if she needed his approval. Given that Gilbert wasn’t even passably human, and that Kattea knew this very well, this said something to Kaylin.

Breathe, Severn told her.

She reddened.

Ybelline knelt. Kneeling, she was shorter than Kattea. She opened her arms, but held them wide, to either side of the girl, and waited.

The Arkon rumbled. Kaylin desperately wanted to give Ybelline as much time, as much space, as she could, because Kaylin understood the effect Kattea’s fear would have on the older, wiser woman. It was a type of poison.

It was a poison Ybelline accepted, because in the end, she had little choice; if she did not do it, another member of her caste would be forced to it.

Kaylin walked over to Gilbert, caught him by the arm and dragged him over to where the Arkon stood. The Arkon’s face, hair and eyes were familiar, but he had chosen to wear the armor available to all of his kin in their mortal form. It was either that or nudity.

“This is Gilbert,” she said. “Gilbert, this is a Dragon known as the Arkon. I’m not sure what that means, since he has a name. But—call him the Arkon unless your name is Bellusdeo.”

The Arkon, in golden plate armor, raised a brow at Kaylin. Gilbert looked confused.

“Bellusdeo, as you are aware, filled me in on many of the details of the past few days.”

Kaylin nodded. She had expected rage. The Arkon’s eyes were orange, but he was, unlike Marcus, his usual self otherwise.

“I do not hold you responsible for Bellusdeo’s disappearance. The Emperor may, but he has not—yet—chosen to fly. Sanabalis is vastly more competent and resourceful than you are, in general, as is Bellusdeo. They are together. If they have not been instantly obliterated, it is left to us to find and retrieve them. I believe it is possible your Gilbert may be of assistance.”

Gilbert said, “I must go to the Winding Path.”

“Yes, that was my thought, as well.” He glanced at Ybelline and Kattea; they were now locked in an embrace—but Kattea had stopped trembling and appeared to be leaning into the Tha’alani woman. And, from the sound of it, sniveling. Kaylin could only see her back. “Is the child necessary?”

Gilbert said “Yes” at the same time as Kaylin said “No.”

The Arkon, predictably, was annoyed. And just as predictably, he was annoyed at Kaylin. “Do not let sentiment blind you. At this juncture, we cannot afford it.”

“Sentiment? I barely even know her!”

The Arkon ignored the comment; he spoke to Gilbert.

Gilbert replied.

Neither used a language she understood. She thought it might be the same language that the Arkon had spoken to Mandoran in the library. “Time is of the essence,” the Dragon told them. “Castelord, I regret to have to interrupt you, but I require the young woman’s presence.”

Ybelline did not appear to hear him.

The Hawklord however, placed a staying hand on the Arkon’s shoulder. “She will require some minutes, yet. Kaylin, please fill the Arkon in on the details of the rest of your day while he waits.”

*

The Arkon’s eyes had shifted toward gold as he listened, although the predominant color was still orange.

“You are from a different time? And so is the young girl?” He threw a narrow-eyed glance at the Tha’alani castelord as he asked.

Gilbert hesitated. Hesitation was his most frequent conversational tic. “Kattea is.”

“And you are not?”

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