This was not the discussion that Kaylin had come to Candallar to have. She had not, in fact, intended to have much in the way of discussion at all. That plan had changed because Bellusdeo was present. As mortals, no matter how they were dressed, they were not significant to the Tower. A Dragon would be. But everything about this discussion sounded exactly like Sedarias; this was a matter for the new An’Mellarionne.
“True. You are not, perhaps, aware of the experiences that drove me to take the reins of Candallar.”
“No, indeed. We have been entrusted with an invitation; The An’Mellarionne wishes to better make your acquaintance in these troubled times.”
His brows rose slightly, and the color of his eyes shifted. He was surprised. Surprised and delighted, judging by his laughter. Kaylin hated that the laughter itself was melodious and compelling because she disliked it intensely on principle.
“Lord Sedarias is indeed bold, as ancient rumors have suggested. I did not myself have experience of her before her sojourn in the West March, and I have not yet had the privilege of making her acquaintance since her ascension at Court. I have, however, been apprised of the astonishing changes that have occurred in the High Halls in very recent days. She is aware of my current status?”
“She is aware that you are outcaste, yes. Given your activities, or your implied activities, before we were invited to take the Test of Name, she believes that you were made outcaste for political reasons. And also that you have some interest in a return to legitimacy.”
Kaylin bent to Terrano’s ear—or as close as she could come given their differences in height. “This is not what we’re supposed to be doing here,” she whispered.
It is far more effective at present than bumbling across the fief searching for information that might somehow incriminate Candallar in an Imperial crime. It was Nightshade who now spoke. Kaylin could feel the sudden weight of his presence behind her eyes. She is, indeed, bold, but she was always feared. She is ruthless, Kaylin. She is not to be trusted.
She’s living with me.
Yes. And while she is resident within Helen’s domain, you will come to no harm. But Helen herself was not certain that she could contain the cohort should they decide to cause harm to either her or you. They are not what we are.
Do you think she means harm?
Almost certainly. But not to Helen, not to you, and not to Annarion. The last was his only real concern.
“And does she believe—she who was only barely able to take the Test of Name—that she might have something of value to offer a man in pursuit of that legitimacy?” There was a distinct edge in the words; the eyes were the color of suspicion, one barely touched by hope.
Mandoran’s smile was pleasant and chilly. Kaylin found it enormously unsettling, because it was Sedarias’s smile on the wrong face. “Have you seen the High Halls since the Test was taken?”
“I have seen them, as you must be aware, at a distance.”
“That occurred, not coincidentally, after we had taken the Test and confronted what lies beneath. You have seen it yourself; you were once Lord of the High Court.”
Silence, then. Sharp, cold; the colors of Candallar’s eyes shifted in the ice of his face. He spoke a word that Kaylin did not understand.
“We do not know what aid was promised, what power offered; nor do we know what you offered in return for possible future favor. But we will ask you to consider your future—and your future alliances—with care. You have allies of a sort in the High Court; we are aware of a few. You will, of course, ascertain the truth of our words from those sources. But should you choose to ally yourself more wisely in future, there are discussions that must be had.”
“You will not find reinstatement a simple affair,” Candallar then said. “We are all aware that your happy return is a polite fiction, and etiquette hides many things.”
Terrano was becoming impatient. Kaylin dropped a hand on his shoulder; he stiffened, but didn’t move away.
“You are here because you believe I have an advantage to offer in what is likely to be a war fought on many, many fronts.”
“No, actually,” Kaylin said before Mandoran—or Sedarias, using Mandoran as a conduit—could reply. “They’re here because we were asked to speak with you. As Imperial Hawks.”
Both of his brows rose at the Elantran interruption; the rest of the words had been delivered in formal High Barrani. “You do not have jurisdiction in the fiefs.”
“No.” Kaylin folded her arms.
“Imperial Law,” Bellusdeo said in the same Elantran, “doesn’t rule the fiefs. None of those laws need be enforced.”
Damn it.
Kaylin turned at the sound of tearing seams. Bellusdeo, standing in the streets of Candallar, which were now empty of anyone who wasn’t a participant in this conversation, began to shift into her Draconic form.
In a much deeper voice, the Dragon continued. “Laws of exemption mean nothing in the fiefs. You have laws, yes?” The ground beneath their feet seemed to tremble in time with her syllables.
Candallar’s expression did not shift. “You will not get far in the old Court with a Dragon as a...companion.” He spoke to Mandoran.
Bellusdeo roared.
Kaylin considered the ignore-the-Dragon option to be a brave social choice.
“You stand accused,” the Dragon continued, “of aiding and abetting those who seek to consort with Shadow. The only court you face now is a court of your peers. And to the High Court—as it is currently constituted—that is treason.”
A brave social choice on Kaylin’s part would have been to correct Bellusdeo. She was clearly a coward in comparison to the fieflord.
If she ate him, Ynpharion said, it would solve a number of problems for the High Court.
We want information. We want to know who his contacts were.
Some information is, we believe, forthcoming. The Barrani Lord Spike identified is not currently at Court or within reach; he evaded us. It is possible that he is to be found in Candallar. The Halls of Law have no concern—and no jurisdiction—over the High Court in matters that involve only the Barrani.
We want to know who his human contacts were. The people who might know among us didn’t consider them all that relevant at the time. And those are not the province of Barrani High Court bloody laws of exemption.
As you say. But if the Dragon torches the fief, the Tower will react.
Kaylin knew. She wasn’t certain that the Tower could do anything this far outside of its physical shape—but the power of the Towers was subtle, and it extended to all borders. She just hoped that Bellusdeo wouldn’t casually torch one of the buildings as a show of force, because even if the buildings looked run-down and barely habitable—and these didn’t—people like Kaylin still lived in them, or retreated to them; falling apart was still better than open streets and hunting Ferals.
“Even in the High Court,” Candallar replied with a touch less equanimity, “such accusations require proof.”
“Speak,” Bellusdeo said, “to your allies—if indeed they still exist.”
Mandoran cleared his throat; Bellusdeo snorted. There was fire in it, not just the usual smoke. “Sedarias An’Mellarionne considers your desire to return to your kin to be commendable. She understands that the fiefs themselves are necessary, and you have long and voluntarily served in a position that none would gainsay. But if you wish to traverse the streets of the Imperial city in the future, she asks that you consider your current available choices with care.
“The mortals can be of little concern to a man of your former stature. If Lord Kaylin—” and here, there was emphasis on the title that Kaylin found so awkward “—requires some aid in identifying those mortals, would you keep their names and positions to yourself? We are beholden to Lord Kaylin, and would consider it a disservice.”
“And will Sedarias An’M
ellarionne pay a visit? She will find me at home.”
Mandoran did chuckle them. “She invites you instead, with Lord Kaylin’s acquiescence, to pay, as you call it, a visit; you will find her at home.”
“If she wishes to resume her rightful place—”
“Resume? She is An’Mellarionne. There is nothing to resume or assume. There are none who would now dare to touch or take the seat she has finally claimed as her own.”
“You’re certain I can’t eat him?” the Dragon asked.
“You wouldn’t enjoy it,” Kaylin replied.
Severn had begun to unwind his weapon chain, and given the absence of obvious aggression, Kaylin found this disturbing.
Candallar is a mage, Nightshade said. Do not, however, watch Severn. Watch your familiar.
He’s not doing anything.
Then do likewise. I admit that even I underestimated Sedarias. It is...refreshing.
Barrani ideas of refreshing were so not Kaylin’s.
You are annoyed that she did not discuss this with you?
Yes, actually, because this interferes with my job.
It does not. In case your High Barrani is inadequate, one of her conditions is that the information that you...somehow...thought you might receive should you come to Candallar be delivered to her.
We didn’t come here expecting to be handed information.
Ah. And you came here in person for what reason?
To investigate Candallar. She exhaled. And to take a look at the Ravellon border.
Silence.
I do not believe that those were your orders.
Not specifically, no. But I’ll bet you anything you want that’s why Bellusdeo is here. The Tower let a High Lord cross the border and return bearing Spike. How that happened—how that could happen—when the fieflord is present... You don’t think he’s like Barren, do you?
No. Candallar is his. You can hear his name across the border; you can see it, if you look for it. Or rather, the fieflords and their Towers can.
Do you think he’s like the fieflord before Barren?
That I cannot tell you. But I will say this: it is no small effort and requires no small will to captain one of the six Towers. You think of the animus of the Tower as Tara. It is with Tara that you have the broadest breadth of experience. But you are aware that my Tower is entirely unlike Tara; the living heart of Castle Nightshade is, or was, one of our Ancestors.
I have not likewise made the acquaintance of other Towers. I can no more tell you whether they are like Tara or like Castle Nightshade. I can tell you nothing of Candallar’s Tower, and to glean any information, you would have to visit. I do not suggest you do so with the Dragon.
Or the cohort?
Or the cohort. You might recall what happened when Annarion visited me.
She did. The echoes of the loss of the Hawks and Swords still haunted the Halls of Law.
He did extend an invitation to Sedarias.
And she would never—as you heard—be fool enough to accept it. Not yet, and perhaps not ever. I am not at all certain that the Barrani who passed through the border to Ravellon ever spent time within Candallar’s Tower, either. It is far too risky to place one’s safety in the hands of such a building. They are not Hallionne.
Hope squawked.
Castle Nightshade is not always safe for those I accept as guests. If I accept a guest, I as host wish them no immediate harm. But the Castle does not always respect that; it is, as I said, a matter of will.
Hope squawked again.
I wish to know, however, when you plan to return to the border zone.
Why?
I wish to accompany you.
Chapter 9
Kaylin wasn’t entirely certain how the full Dragon confrontation was going to go; Bellusdeo’s eyes were a deep orange. She looked at Candallar as if he were a cockroach. Kaylin understood why. The act of treason of which he was accused was so profoundly personal to the Dragon, the echoes of rage and loss informed the way she viewed it.
She, therefore, stepped on the Dragon’s foot. Her foot was insignificant in comparison—but so was a full, all-out body-check, and the former preserved some small shreds of Hawkly dignity.
Bellusdeo’s head swiveled in Kaylin’s direction; the Dragon’s scaled neck was, in spite of natural armor, very flexible. “Yes?”
“We should head south. We can check the border for possible infestation while we’re there.”
Candallar said nothing.
Bellusdeo turned an eye on Candallar. “What have you done to your Tower?”
The question didn’t surprise him. He didn’t answer it, though.
“Sedarias An’Mellarionne has extended an offer,” Mandoran said, as soon as he was certain that fiery death was not forthcoming. He hadn’t said a word to interrupt Bellusdeo, no doubt at Sedarias’s request.
An angry Dragon who is somewhat allied is nevertheless not under anyone’s control. Sedarias understands this, but believes that Candallar would not die so easily. The threat, however, underpins her position as someone of considerable power. Not many of our kin could claim a Dragon as an ally.
Any?
Not many, Nightshade replied with more emphasis. Candallar is not as old as Teela or the cohort, in theoretical terms. He is vastly more experienced than the cohort, but Teela’s experience will weigh heavily with them.
Have you ever met Sedarias?
She felt the ghost of a brief grin.
“If I accept your offer of...hospitality,” Candallar then said, “I would request that you treat my fief as if it is, in fact, mine.”
“What would that entail?” Mandoran asked, but his response was slower; to Kaylin, it implied dissent within the cohort.
“You will leave off inspecting my borders as if I am some part of your Imperial domain.”
Bellusdeo turned on him then, eyes almost red. “We are aware that a Lord of the High Court entered—and left—Ravellon through Candallar. He carried Shadow with him.”
Candallar said nothing.
Bellusdeo stepped toward him; the ground shook with the intensity of her rage. And her weight. She wasn’t stepping lightly.
“You play games with forces you do not understand,” the Dragon said, her lips pulled over the length of her jaw, her teeth glinting as if they were jeweled. “I have seen a world lost to what lies in wait in Ravellon. Not a court and not a useless title—a world. And it was lost in part because of people like you.”
He stepped back.
“You play at little territories, fieflord. If it pleases you, you may continue while you breathe. But Shadow is not an entity that respects borders or boundaries. Corporals,” she added, her voice a growl.
Kaylin understood that this meant they were to join her. It wasn’t the first time Kaylin had flown on Dragon back. She clambered up. Severn followed with greater ease, and she tried not to resent it. When they were both seated more or less as securely as they could be, Bellusdeo roared. There were syllables in it. Rage.
“I really think that’s a terrible idea this close to Ravellon!” Kaylin shouted.
Bellusdeo’s reply was also a roar. Kaylin had no need to understand Dragon to know that this was one of the “useful” words she might otherwise have picked up. The Dragon then pushed herself up off the streets of Candallar, leaving Mandoran and Terrano behind.
It wasn’t Candallar that concerned Kaylin; it was the outcaste Dragon. Ravellon was his home and he had somehow survived it.
She’s flown to the border in Tiamaris, Severn pointed out. It was audible; shouting in her ear while Bellusdeo trumpeted her rage might not have been.
That’s different.
It’s not. If she didn’t catch the outcaste’s attention in Tiamaris, she won’t catch it here; if she did, he didn’t rise to take that bait.
>
The borders are far more protected in Tiamaris than they are in Candallar.
Kaylin—you returned from the outlands by Tiamaris. The borders are susceptible in every fief.
We’re not Shadow.
No.
Spike is.
Is he?
Kaylin settled in to think. The distance Bellusdeo covered was not strenuous, even by foot; the ground beneath Kaylin’s feet rushed past. People under the Dragon’s shadow scattered, which showed some sense. How had Spike passed through that barrier? Was the Tower compromised?
Tara had almost been compromised by the Shadows she was created to suppress. That she hadn’t been was due to Tiamaris. And Kaylin herself. What Tara now built, she wanted. And she wanted to protect it. It was part of her now in a way that was neither trap nor cage.
Kaylin couldn’t imagine that Candallar could give a Tower what Tiamaris could. She knew that Nightshade didn’t—but knew, as well, that Nightshade’s Tower, at base, would probably destroy itself, brick by brick, if it ever needed what Tara needed.
There was only one way to check, and that involved entering the heart of Candallar’s power.
I consider that exceedingly unwise, Nightshade said, his interior voice soft.
* * *
Bellusdeo, the aforementioned groundhawks in tow, did land about ten yards from the border. She remained Draconic, shedding her passengers. When the Hawks had both feet on the ground, she folded wings that had remained high and ready to strike.
Kaylin approached the border slowly. Hope yawned and sat up on her shoulder. His wings remained folded. If invisible Shadow was approaching them, he didn’t consider them consequential.
There are none, he said, squawks adorning the syllables like the background melody offered by street musicians. What she seeks, she will not find.
“Could you maybe tell her that?”
No. It is her own opinion she trusts, and at that, poorly. She is much unsettled by the news that one of the Barrani carried Spike from Ravellon.
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