Cast in Wisdom

by Michelle Sagara

  “That is not something that many of your kind would do.”

  “Many Barrani, or many fieflords?”

  Bellusdeo chuckled. “The former. My experience with the latter is limited.”

  “I would hear more of your accusations against Candallar, if it pleases you to discuss it.” She lifted an arm and gestured, fist becoming open hand at the end of that arm. Weapons found their sheaths instantly, the movement so precise and so synchronized it might have been performed by soldiers who had been trained to do nothing but drill.

  Is Farlonne outcaste? Kaylin asked Ynpharion.

  It astonishes me that you failed to even think of asking that question before now.

  I didn’t exactly plan on meeting her.

  Given your plans to date—and I accept I have seen but a fraction of your life—your reliance on “planning” seems highly suspect. Were I you, I would abandon all hope of what passes for normal in your life and assume that everything will, as you colloquially put it, be on fire in the worst conceivable way possible.

  She wondered briefly why it was Ynpharion she’d asked. Clearly, he was wondering the same thing.

  Lord Farlonne, unlike Nightshade or Candallar, is not outcaste. She has passed the Test of Name; she is a Lord of the High Court. She has always, according to those who are acquainted with her, been a bit unusual. There has been no motion to have her stripped of her title; there is unlikely ever to be that motion. She has rarely played political games with any finesse.

  Or at all?

  Or at all.

  Bellusdeo considered the fieflord’s request from the air; her response was to land.

  “Don’t dismount,” she said in as quiet a voice as a Dragon could use.

  “It’s going to be difficult to greet her properly from your back.”

  “I believe we’ll survive it.”

  “She’s not an outcaste.” Although Kaylin was seated on the Dragon’s back, she knew her well enough by now that she could practically see the grimace.

  Hope squawked.

  “Fine.” Bellusdeo then transformed, shedding wings, weight, length and most of her scales. The scales that remained were what Kaylin considered Dragon armor. When the transformation was complete, Bellusdeo looked every inch the warrior queen she had once been in a different world.

  Chapter 10

  “Lord Farlonne.” Plate armor wasn’t known for its flexibility. Or at least not the regular kind that was worn on dress parades and pretty much nowhere else in the city. Unless you counted the palace guard—but Kaylin considered them dress guards or status symbols. Or condescending jerks.

  “Lord Bellusdeo.” Farlonne’s armor was not plate; she bowed.

  “I apologize for my concern and my interference in your territory. My companions are Imperial Hawks, but they were asked to accompany me.”

  “To the fiefs?”

  “To the destination of my choice. I will admit,” she added, her lips curving in an odd smile, “that that destination is seldom the fiefs.”

  “I would not imagine it would be. Very few people enter Farlonne without my consent—or my knowledge. You are a recent arrival in the fair city of Elantra, and perhaps events surrounding that arrival have been...hectic. Farlonne is walled. To pass into my territory, one either requires my permission or one sneaks in through the borders of either Durant or Liatt. Our borders are therefore watched.

  “But I have heard only rumors. It has been long indeed since I have seen a Dragon in the flesh.”

  “The Eternal Emperor would no doubt remember you.”

  “And I, him.” Her smile was twin to Bellusdeo’s. For some reason, both women reminded Kaylin of Sedarias, which was not a terribly comforting thought. “You are welcome in Farlonne, should you desire to visit again. I would ask, as a courtesy, that you inform the guards at the gate of your arrival.” She lifted a hand again, and the guards—except for the Barrani—dispersed.

  “You are gracious, Lord Farlonne.”

  “That is not something of which I am often accused.” The hard smile slid off her face. “Now, you offer information about Candallar, and I would be...grateful...to hear it. I have heard idle gossip at Court—but it is surprisingly scant. Candallar is outcaste; the outcaste are not oft discussed unless they pose too great a threat.

  “Were you, as claimed at Court, in the West March?”

  “Not as an attacking Dragon Flight of one, but yes.”

  “And you encountered the fieflord there?”

  “No, of course not. I first encountered the fieflord in the area I am informed, by the corporals, is called the east warrens.”

  “If you had not previously encountered Candallar, how can you be certain that the Shadow was carried across his Tower’s border, as has been claimed?”

  Bellusdeo let the question settle before she punted. “Tell me, have you visited the High Halls in the past week?”

  “No. I have heard that there have been some changes.”

  “There have. All of the answers to the questions you ask can be found there—if you have the permission required to hear them. The subject is considered, politically, a matter for the Barrani caste Court, and I am notably not Barrani. I will therefore allow those with knowledge to dispense it as they see fit.

  “But I have seen—personally—the damage that Ravellon can do. I have seen a world lost. Not a city, but the whole of the world, enveloped in the end by the Shadows your Towers cage here.”

  “The Towers have never fallen.”

  “No. Not all worlds possessed such Towers. But Lord Farlonne, your cages have bars, and it is not beyond belief that the Shadows within can extend an arm between them.”

  “That is what you experienced?”

  “That,” Bellusdeo said, with a slight nod, “is what happened to me.”

  “Your people,” Lord Farlonne continued, surprising at least Kaylin, “are rumored to live on the border, in the fief of Tiamaris.”

  “They are. They have been building dwellings capable of housing them; the Norannir are taller than your humans. They have the magic and the knowledge that they used to defend their homes, however imperfectly, from Shadow. It is not the same as the magic found in Elantra.”

  “That, too, I have heard. But I heard it at Court, a place I am seldom found, and I cannot attest to its veracity. Or could not. I believe, however, that you can.”

  “I can. In matters of Shadow, in matters of Ravellon, there is no help I, or my people, would not extend.”

  “And in return for this consideration?”

  “Perhaps, in the near future, you might visit Tiamaris. It is where what remains of my people are currently situated. I would be gratified to entertain the specifics of your questions there, but I believe some permission would be required to enter the fief.”

  “No doubt similar to the permissions I myself require?”

  Bellusdeo’s smile deepened; it was still sharp, but nonetheless looked genuine. “And perhaps for the same reasons.”

  “You have my permission to continue your inspection of the border within Farlonne.”

  “Your permission, yes. But I feel that the effort would be largely wasted. It is clear to me that you take the duties imposed by the captaincy of a Tower very seriously.”

  “It was long considered a besetting sin and a sign of inflexibility in my character.” Farlonne offered Bellusdeo another bow.

  This time, Bellusdeo returned it. She then resumed her Draconic form, and once Kaylin and Severn were seated, flew to the border zone between Farlonne and Liatt. “I liked her,” she said, the words almost guaranteed to carry to at least the fieflord.

  “She seemed to like you, inasmuch as any Barrani likes anyone else.”

  I concur, Ynpharion said, sounding vaguely displeased. You might—might, given your general squeamishness—find much y
ou would admire in her. His tone was grudging.

  You don’t care for her?

  What does that even mean? He was now annoyed. She is a Lord of the High Court. She is not of an age with the Lady, An’Teela, or Lord Annarion’s brother. Kaylin failed to see what her age had to do with anything, given the way age graced the Barrani. She has less knowledge of things that occurred during the first two wars.

  That wasn’t why she annoyed Ynpharion.

  No. I found her lack of flexibility and her demands that others adopt her standards to be condescending.

  Since most of the Barrani were locked in a struggle to corner the market on condescension, Kaylin shrugged.

  But she accepts the responsibilities she chooses to carry, and she carries them almost to the exclusion of all else. She is not the head of her line; she lacks ambition in that regard. It is because of her lack of ambition that she is fieflord here. She knows what occurred, historically, in the distant past; she understands why the Towers were created. She also understands that the Towers require a captain, a Lord, to fulfill duties she sees as critically essential.

  If Kaylin had been walking, she’d have stopped; she moved because Bellusdeo was currently responsible for her forward momentum.

  Does she take all responsibilities as seriously?

  As I said, she dedicates herself to the duties she undertakes.

  Yes, that’s what you said. What I’m asking—what I think I’m asking—is why did she dedicate herself to this one?

  Ynpharion was silent, which meant he didn’t know. Probably. Why, he finally said, does your Dragon dedicate herself to it?

  Because she lost her home, her world, and her family to Ravellon.

  * * *

  You are unkind to Lord Ynpharion, Nightshade said. He was amused.

  I’m as kind to him as he is to me.

  You even believe that to be true. Ynpharion does not know. I myself do not know. I have, as Farlonne has, some rudimentary knowledge; those at Court enjoy discussions about the foibles and follies of their less fortunate peers. It is a trait that is common among all those who live. You might ask the Consort. All others will answer in a way that suits their political purposes, to their advantage, and your knowledge of the Court would not allow you to glean fact from their answers.

  I’m not sure it’s necessary.

  Nor am I. It would not, given Sedarias’s current plan, harm Lord Bellusdeo to make a tentative connection with a Lord of the High Court. Lord Farlonne is considered the equivalent of an overearnest country bumpkin by much of the High Court; such a liaison would not immediately indicate a threatening shift of alliances.

  Sedarias and her relationship with the Dragon, however, will. I would suggest that Bellusdeo remove herself from your home, but I understand that this is not a suggestion she would welcome.

  I wouldn’t welcome it, either.

  Yes. But you are not, in the Elantran phrasing, the boss of her. It is why she values you so highly.

  It’s safer for her to be with Helen than to be anywhere else. The only place that would be safer would be Tara.

  Yes. Tara is Tower of Tiamaris, and that is where what remains of Bellusdeo’s people live. If the Dragon intends to interact with the fiefs in any consistent fashion, Tara would be the home I would suggest.

  I’m not even sure Tara would... Kaylin trailed off. She couldn’t even bring herself to think it. I’ll ask. But not now.

  No. But Sedarias started to strategize before she left the West March. I believe she is capable of living outside of Helen’s boundaries, but not all of the cohort can—not without causing unforeseen damage to the rest of the city. The cohort is the greater threat to the city.

  She wasn’t thinking about the city. She was thinking about Bellusdeo.

  * * *

  The border between Liatt and Farlonne was visually similar to the border between Durant and Farlonne. Farlonne’s Tower looked like the peak of a citadel, and Kaylin was almost certain that the lower end of the building would match what would be seen above the skyline.

  Liatt’s Tower was different. If Durant’s was workmanlike to its height, Liatt’s was not. There was, about it, something that implied dreams. Or nightmares. Kaylin wasn’t certain what. It was certainly ostentatious; where Tara was white, Liatt was hues of silver and gold, but the gold did not reflect sunlight in a way that made it painful to look at.

  Ah, no.

  It was gold and silver in the border zone. She could see its colors clearly. None of the other buildings had real color, just the hint of what their former color might have been when they’d been a natural part of the city. The Towers did not control the border zone. They were aware of the demarcations of their boundaries; they did not reach beyond them.

  But they could still be seen here.

  Kaylin frowned.

  “What are you doing?” Bellusdeo asked as she slid off the Dragon’s back.

  “I can see the Tower of Liatt,” Kaylin replied. “But we’re between Farlonne and Liatt; I should at least be able to see the Tower of Farlonne just as well. Severn?”

  He dismounted, as well. His vision was better than Kaylin’s; always had been.

  “Can you see them?” she asked as she turned toward what she assumed was Durant.

  Severn was silent for a long beat as he narrowed his eyes.

  “I can’t see Farlonne,” she continued, when he failed to answer. “I can only see Liatt. Or what I assume is Liatt—I’ve never been there in person.”

  “I can’t see Farlonne. I can see Liatt.”

  “But this is a zone between the two fiefs, right?”

  It was Bellusdeo who nodded.

  “Do you think the Tower we can see shifts when we enter the border zone from the other side?”

  “There is a way to determine that without the endless theorizing.” The Dragon’s voice was a rumble, but it was mostly amused.

  * * *

  Entering from the Liatt side of the border, Kaylin could see the Farlonne citadel. She could no longer perceive the Liatt Tower.

  “How much exploration did you do?”

  “Probably less than Tiamaris; we had different goals.”

  “He was trying to study ancient, mostly lost things, right?”

  Severn shrugged. It wasn’t precisely a fief shrug. “I would say that it wasn’t entirely academic. He did want that information.”

  “Lannagaros wanted that information,” Bellusdeo said. “I would bet on it.”

  “Tiamaris was interested in it, but...the Arkon, for whatever reason, doesn’t seem to move much. I wouldn’t be surprised if the interest overlapped; Tiamaris wanted to explore, and the Arkon wanted the information Tiamaris could dig up.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Kaylin looked at Bellusdeo. “You’re worried,” she finally said, voice flat.

  “What gives it away? The eye color?”

  “Your eyes are always that color when you’re anywhere near the fiefs. They’re probably mostly that color when you’re sleeping.”

  Hope squawked; Bellusdeo snorted. “Let’s take a look at the Liatt border.” By which she meant the Ravellon border in Liatt.

  The fief of Liatt’s border into Ravellon resembled what Kaylin had come to expect: the buildings were run-down, the streets deserted. Only the truly desperate would choose to live here, and Kaylin doubted that they’d stay for long. Ferals could come into buildings, but buildings weren’t their first choice—only if their prey fled through a door did they follow.

  It was scant protection, but it was better than none.

  Maybe. Kaylin had never had the entirety of a building collapse on her, and she guessed that that would do as much damage, but in different ways.

  Bellusdeo was not impressed by the border itself, although it appeared to be similar to Nightshade’s to Kaylin
’s eye. Perhaps the foray into Farlonne had given her hope that the other fieflords were not as neglectful. She could find nothing—aside from a total lack of early warning system—that indicated that there had been a breach. Kaylin wasn’t certain how she determined this, and any attempt to get answers resulted in more confusion. Later, when they had time, she would try again.

  None of the citizens of Liatt attempted to impede Bellusdeo’s progress, and the gold Dragon followed the Ravellon border, heading toward Nightshade in silence.

  Kaylin could see Castle Nightshade clearly as they entered the border zone; it was not as fanciful as Liatt’s Tower, but nowhere near as mundane as Durant’s. She had more experience with Nightshade’s Tower, and very, very little of it had been positive. It was from Nightshade’s Tower that the Barrani Ancestors had emerged, to wreak so much havoc in Elantra.

  She didn’t like the Tower; the Tower did not like her.

  But it was in the Tower, or in the basement of the Tower, that she had first been called Chosen by the Ancients, or the ghosts of Ancients.

  * * *

  Nightshade—the Lord, not the fief—was waiting for them when they emerged. He offered Bellusdeo a deep and respectful bow.

  “Lord Nightshade,” the Dragon said, returning that bow with more reserve.

  “My brother feels he owes you a great debt.”

  The Dragon’s shrug was uncomfortable. “I do not consider him—or the rest of his cohort—to be in my debt.” She began to walk, and Nightshade fell in beside her, aware—because of his bond with Kaylin—exactly what she intended. He made no move to dissuade her.

  “I have seldom crossed the border zone in the fashion you chose to cross it today. Ah, that is inaccurate. I have not chosen to visit all of the border zones in sequence in that fashion. It has been enlightening.”

  “Oh?”

  “Kaylin’s observations about the visibility of the Towers, for one. I was aware that the border zone appears to extend to Ravellon in the same fashion it does into the rest of the fiefs. It is possible that Candallar’s ally entered through the border zone itself. His exit might have been more difficult; the border zone from the other side is...not the same. If that were somehow the case, he might exit across the fief-Ravellon border.”