Mandoran complained more, though.
The Arkon did not insist that Ybelline accompany them, but did not offer to transport her to the Tha’alani quarter, either. He insisted that Kattea remain with Helen. Kattea insisted otherwise. She did so from behind the safety of Gilbert’s back, as Gilbert didn’t seem to be intimidated—in any way—by the presence of a giant golden Dragon giving him the evil eye.
Gilbert insisted that Kattea be allowed to choose.
Kaylin, who had an opinion, struggled to keep it to herself. Yes, Kattea was an orphan. Yes, she was a child. Yes, she was making decisions based on fear and air and hope. And yes, someone responsible should be making the hard decisions for her. But if she had a guardian at all, it was Gilbert, and Gilbert felt that she would be safe. He made clear that the Arkon could carry Kattea—with Gilbert—or that he and Kattea would make their way to the Winding Path on their own.
The Arkon agreed to carry Gilbert.
*
The streets near Helen were empty.
The streets a few blocks away were not. The Arkon muttered something about breathing to clear space. Kaylin kicked his side. Her familiar squawked—a lot.
“It is gallows humor,” the Arkon replied. “Or at least that is what I am told it is called.”
“People need to laugh for it to be considered humor.”
“And if they do not laugh?”
“Not funny. Humor is supposed to be funny.”
“I find it amusing.”
“Fine. Tell it to the other Dragons!” She regretted this about two seconds later, because he resumed his booming conversation. To her ear, he sounded angry, but she couldn’t see his face and couldn’t judge by eye color.
Squawk.
“Yes,” Kaylin told him, almost inaudibly. “I see it.”
*
There was a very large crater in the center of the slope of the Winding Path, or at least that was what it looked like at a distance. Kaylin could see the sharp edge of the street; she could see what she assumed was the brown of the dirt that underlay what had once been road. She could see the edges of the homes two streets over—and the homes at either end of the crater. Raising her voice, she said, “Do you know if it’s gotten bigger?”
“It has expanded, yes,” the Arkon replied. “If the castelord is correct, we may be able to halt the expansion.”
“Did it work for Teela?” Kaylin shouted.
“I’m not mortal,” Mandoran shouted back. “I can hear you if you’re not screeching!”
“Just answer the question!”
“Yes. Wherever she is currently confined is affected by the shield.”
Kaylin hesitated. The marks on her arms were not glowing. She squinted, swiveling on the Arkon’s back to get a glimpse of Elani Street. The familiar squawked, loudly, in her ear.
“Arkon!”
The Arkon roared.
“I think—I think we need to find Evanton.”
*
If turning Hawks to ash had not been illegal—and difficult, given she was on his back—Kaylin would have been smoldering. At best.
Mandoran and Annarion weren’t fond of the idea, either—which was, in Mandoran’s case, perfectly understandable. “Why?” the former demanded. Loudly.
“It’s the elements,” she replied. “I don’t understand how—or why—they’re involved. I know the disturbance is centered on the Winding Path. But—something must happen to Evanton, or his Garden—in the future. Which is probably really, really close.”
“The Tha’alani quarter is not destroyed for an hour and a half,” Mandoran told her. “From now. That’s all the time we have.”
“I know that,” Kaylin snapped—although technically, she hadn’t. “But the water was outside of the Garden. Yes, it was confined in the Keeper’s abode—but it shouldn’t have been able to rain in the store.” And worse. “I think—I think the water that came from the future and merged with the water here wasn’t confined in the same way in that future.
“If the Keeper was dead, there wouldn’t be a fief. Or seven.”
This was true, given everything Evanton had ever said about the Garden. Or anything the elements had said about themselves. But she couldn’t let go of the notion. “Ask Teela.”
“Teela is preoccupied at the moment—” His words cut off as the Arkon banked sharply. Kattea shrieked, and Kaylin let the Arkon know just how useful fancy flying maneuvers weren’t. “Teela says the equivalent of what?”
Kaylin laughed. “In Leontine, right?”
“It’s a remarkably flexible language.”
“Yes, well. If she—”
Annarion said, with vastly more distaste, “She has almost finished indulging in Leontine metaphor.” It was amazing to Kaylin that he and Mandoran could be so close, could have spent all of their lives in each other’s pockets, and be so very, very different. “Arkon, she asks that you honor Kaylin’s request.” This last was said in very formal High Barrani.
The Arkon, however, was already on it.
*