“I will land in the street.”
“Our tower’s bigger than the Hawklord’s—and Helen is safer.”
The Arkon growled. But to Kaylin’s surprise, he took her advice.
*
She hadn’t lied, but she hadn’t exactly been truthful, either; Helen could shift the interior of the house to accommodate any guest. The tower’s aperture opened as the Arkon approached it from on high; it was wide enough that he could—with caution—land. He did, but the landing was heavy, and he was silent while his passengers disembarked.
“Welcome,” Helen said. Or rather, Helen’s voice. Her Avatar had not yet reached the tower. “We’ve been waiting. Mandoran is very upset.”
Kaylin remembered the revelation she’d had back in the Hawklord’s Tower. Movement returned in a frenzied rush as she raced for the door, yanked it open and took the stairs four at a time. Helen would see to the guests.
*
For some reason, the dining room had become the gathering spot for Helen’s inhabitants. The parlor was in theory more comfortable and more homey—but it was only used when there were guests. The fact that there were guests didn’t change the venue this time, however.
Mandoran and Annarion were seated at the dining room table.
“Teela?”
Mandoran nodded. “We can hear her. Barely, but we can hear her.”
“Tain?”
“She says he’s alive. More or less. She’s pissed off at him, if that helps.”
“Not really—it just means he’s more injured than she is, probably because he was trying to do something stupid, like protect her.”
“Got it in one.”
Kaylin exhaled. She closed her eyes. Eyes closed, she could more clearly hear Kattea—which meant Gilbert was close. She inhaled deeply and opened her eyes. Small and squawky was seated on her shoulder, wings folded, eyes alert. Ybelline was a yard behind Gilbert and Kattea.
“Does she know what happened?”
“This would be a lot easier,” Mandoran said, “if we had your name. Or if you had ours. I get that you don’t want to let yours slip—but—” He subsided because Annarion had kicked him. “She says to tell you this is yet another attempt to gain immortality.”
“The Arcanist was Barrani. He already has immortality!”
Mandoran gave Annarion a look. “This,” he said, rising, “is stupid.”
Annarion rose as well and stepped in front of him.
“I mean it.”
“He gets that,” Kaylin said. “And we don’t—we don’t need to do this. Helen can hear you. Helen can translate.”
Helen’s Avatar appeared in the far door. “I cannot translate well,” she said half-apologetically, “and I confess I do not understand your reluctance; it is your name and should be your choice. Kaylin, however, is hesitant. She considers it dangerous.”
“Why? She’s mortal. She’ll die in a handful of years.”
“Because she is Chosen, and she doesn’t understand what that means. Your Teela is correct, in a fashion. Immortality is the translation—it is an ancient Barrani word, and it does not have meaning in Elantran as it is currently spoken.
“You have had—Teela tells Mandoran—some experience with the Barrani who seek...freedom? From the shackles of their names. That freedom exists in the mortal; it does not exist in the immortal. It does not exist for either myself or Gilbert. Once I would not have understood the desire; it would have seemed tantamount to suicide.
“But I have come to understand it, with time.”
“Would you destroy your name?”
“I have already destroyed parts of it, as you know. But no, Kaylin. That is not exact. I have cut off limbs. I have closed eyes. But the core of my name is still transcribed by, proscribed by, words—and I do not resent them. They gave me life. But there is persistent belief that freedom from words conveys limitless power to those who were created to contain words.
“To my eye, it does not; you were not created to contain words, and you are limited in ways that your immortals are not. But I have never been ambitious.”
“Mandoran—what happened in the Arcanum? Why did the—whatever it is—start at the Winding Path? Teela went to the Arcanum, didn’t she?”
He nodded.
“And then she went to the Winding Path?”
“No.”
“So where is she?”
“She doesn’t know.”
“Is it a room? Is it—”
“She doesn’t know, Kaylin. It’s dark where she is. She’s injured. Tain is injured. She’s carved out a small space—”
“Tell her—tell her to use elemental shielding, if she can.” Kaylin had no idea what Teela’s magical abilities were. Beyond the implication that Teela had once belonged to the Arcanum, she knew nothing about Teela’s magical past. Teela had never volunteered the information. But Kaylin had only asked once.
“She wants to know what you mean by elemental shielding.”