Cast in Flame

by Michelle Sagara

  Kaylin took the hint and shut up, silently urging the Arkon to cough up his reasons as fast as humanly possible. Or dragonly.

  “I am concerned about the difficulties, as well. The afternoon’s,” he added. “The current argument between the Dragon Court and Bellusdeo is nowhere near resolution and only an optimist or a fool would expect it to reach a satisfactory resolution in the near future.”

  “Please tell me the near future is within the next few decades.”

  He ignored this. “The Barrani, Mandoran. He was one of twelve Barrani children selected to undergo a significant rite of passage in the West March.”

  Gods. If he started asking about that, she’d be in these halls longer than Bellusdeo would be in the throne room. “Yes.”

  “Lord Teela was one of the same twelve.”

  “Yes.”

  “The only one of the twelve to return from the West March.”

  “Until very recently, yes.”

  “Your answers are evasive, Private Neya.”

  “They’re direct answers to the questions you’re asking when I have almost no time, sir.” His brow rose, and she reddened. “Arkon.”

  “Very well. You will make the time to explain what occurred in as much detail as I require in future.”

  She’d age and die before she could live up to the level of detail he required. She kept the thought to herself. “I don’t understand most of what happened, and I was there. But—”

  “But Mandoran accompanied you home.”

  “Yes.”

  “He was not the only one of the twelve—Lord Teela aside—to travel to Elantra.”

  “...No. The other one didn’t travel with us, though.”

  “Do your evening’s plans include the other one, as you call him?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “But you suspect they do.”

  She hesitated before nodding.

  “Very well. He is the reason I am here. Your Mandoran—”

  “Teela’s Mandoran, please.”

  “Lord Teela’s Mandoran, if you prefer, caused difficulty in the Keeper’s Garden. It was not a difficulty that the Keeper anticipated.”

  Obviously. She felt compelled to add, even given the agonizing passage of time, “Evanton recognized something in Mandoran, though. He didn’t treat him the way he generally treats Teela. I think he wanted Mandoran to see the Garden.”

  “That did not work out as well as he’d hoped.”

  “No.”

  “Very well. Teela’s other friend is, if our sources are correct, currently resident within the fiefs.”

  Kaylin suddenly felt very, very cold. “Yes.”

  “There are very few residences in which Barrani of any status might feel at home. I can think of only one—in each fief. I believe you are beginning to understand the possible difficulty.”

  She was. “The Castle.”

  “The Towers, yes. They are not, in architecture or constitution, like the buildings in which most of the citizens of the Empire live. They exist in a different space.”

  “...Like the Keeper’s Garden.”

  “Very unlike the Keeper’s Garden, but I see you have absorbed most of the point I wished to make. If your intent was to go to the fief in which Lord Teela’s companion is situated, you have my apologies for wasting your time here. But Kaylin—be careful. If Bellusdeo’s brief account was accurate, Mandoran did not intend to cause the difficulties he did cause.

  “It is likely that his friend might cause similar difficulties, with just as little intent.”

  “I don’t understand how.”

  “No. You think of the lost as Barrani.”

  “They are.”

  “No, Kaylin. They were. They may even consider themselves to be Barrani now. Their interpretation of their own state is of little consequence. The Emperor does not yet feel threatened by their presence—or he did not, before the incident in the Keeper’s abode. He will, however, be concerned.”

  * * *

  Kaylin jumped out of the carriage before it had rolled to a full stop, which was well before the footman had time to jump down himself. Although it was now dark, the carriage attracted attention; she could see windows open as she headed straight for Severn’s place, but ignored them. In this part of town, crossbows were unlikely to be trained on her exposed back.

  Severn opened the door before she could knock. Teela was out in the street before she could talk.

  “I’m against this,” Teela told her. “For the record.”

  “That’s fine, as long as you understand that I’m going anyway.” She glanced at Severn as he locked his door. “We’re going to Nightshade?”

  He nodded and added, “I win,” to Teela.

  Teela was less graceful about losing a bet than Severn had been, probably because she had less practice. “I never said she was stupid.”

  That definition of never stretched the meaning of the word so far it was likely to snap. “I suppose it’s too much to hope that we’re not going to the Castle?”

  “Far too much,” Teela replied.

  “Did Nightshade communicate with you directly?”

  “With me? No. Before you ask, he didn’t mirror Severn either.”

  “So we’re heading there because Annarion was in contact with you directly.”

  “Something like that.”

  “Which means Nightshade isn’t expecting visitors.”

  He is, now, the fieflord said, right on cue.

  * * *

  “There is a reason I didn’t want you tagging along,” Teela said. “In fact, there are several. Your mark is glowing.” She strode at a fast pace past the idling carriage. No one took a carriage into the fiefs.

  Kaylin lifted her hand to her cheek. Unlike the marks that had come to define much of her life, this one had arrived later, and she knew its source: Lord Nightshade, of the fief that bore his name.

  “I take it this means he knows we’re coming.”

  “...Sorry, Teela.”

  “Not good enough.”

  “You weren’t exactly going to storm the damn Castle in secret.”

  “There’s every chance we were going to do exactly that,” Teela snapped.

  Kaylin looked to Severn. “Was she drinking?”

  “Alcohol doesn’t affect me,” Teela said, before Severn could answer. This wasn’t strictly true, but close. Teela could, with effort, be affected by alcohol meant for mortal consumption—but almost anything could snap her out of it.

  “Not an answer.”

  “As much of an answer as you deserve. Look—things at Castle Nightshade are in flux at the moment.”

  “Annarion is in the Castle.”

  “Yes.”

  “And he’s the reason things are in flux?”

  “That’s our assumption.” Teela picked up a pace that was already on the wrong side of punishing.

  “Teela.” The small dragon added accompaniment or the Barrani Hawk might have ignored Kaylin. She slowed, which, given her mood, was the equivalent of a dead stop.

  “You can speak with Annarion. What’s happened at the Castle?”

  Teela exhaled. She didn’t stop moving. “I can speak with Annarion,” she said, in what should have been agreement. It wasn’t. “At the moment, he can speak with me. But I can’t understand at least half of what he’s saying.”

  Kaylin almost missed the ground with her next step. “He’s—he’s speaking the way Nightshade and I do?”

  “Yes.”

  “How can you not understand him?”

  Severn caught Kaylin’s arm. “She doesn’t know. We’re heading to Nightshade in part to find answers.”

  “And the other part?”

 
“To find Annarion.”

  “There’s something else you’re not saying.”

  She felt Nightshade’s amusement and chagrin. I believe what he wishes to conceal is the possible need to rescue...me.

  Kaylin did stumble, then. Fine. You understand what’s happening, right? You tell me.

  Annarion is having an argument, he replied, after a long pause.

  With you?

  It started that way, yes. Unfortunately it did not end that way, if it can be said to have ended at all. When he first arrived at my doors, I explained the nature of the Castle to him. The explanation was, of necessity, incomplete.

  You couldn’t explain the parts you don’t understand.

  No Barrani liked to own their ignorance; Nightshade was no exception. Indeed.

  The argument that you were having was heated.

  It was far less calm than most such discussions that occur within my domain.

  How much less calm?

  There was very little blood, but not none.

  He tried to kill you?

  I do not believe that was his intent. The Castle does not always judge intent correctly. There are rudimentary defenses under my control; there are subtle defenses which occur at the Castle’s volition. The subtle defenses engaged when he attempted to strike me.

  Kaylin uttered a loud Leontine curse, which caused Teela to raise a brow. And speed up again. Where is he now?

  That would be the question. I have not managed to ascertain his precise location. He is alive; I believe him to be materially unharmed. He is not, however, within the confines of the Castle with which I am familiar.

  You’re familiar with all it! It’s your castle!

  So I would have said, although I would quibble with your use of the word familiar. I have forced the Castle to conform to a shape and size—on the interior—that suits me. You are well aware that visitors who are unaccompanied frequently find that shape less fixed. Annarion is, at the moment, unaccompanied.

  So...your brother is arguing with your castle. A thought struck her as she jogged to catch up to Teela’s back. Is it still your castle?

  That would be the question.

  * * *

  The streets of the fief were empty. Kaylin could hear the occasional insect; that was it. The Ferals that hunted these streets were either absent or silent, which was almost a pity. In Teela’s current mood, Ferals on the hunt wouldn’t last two minutes—and ridding the fief of Ferals was never a bad thing.

  “Teela, can any of the others understand what Annarion’s trying to say to you?”

  Teela failed to hear the question. Since she had far better hearing than Kaylin, Kaylin assumed it was deliberate. She let it go.

  Severn, however, answered. “Yes. Teela attempted to have them translate. It did not go well. Mandoran offered to enter the fiefs to find Annarion. She said no.” He was walking in lockstep with Teela, but had taken the lead; it was work to keep it.

  Kaylin had spent over half of her life in these streets—but almost never at night, if she’d had any choice at all. Night changed the texture of the map. Fear could change its shape. She glanced at Severn, took a deep breath, and reminded herself that she no longer lived here. The streets of the fief didn’t own her. The fieflord didn’t, either.

  She was here with two Hawks. She was here because she’d chosen to cross the bridge; she could cross it again the moment she’d finished what she came to do. The fact that she didn’t fully understand what she had to do here didn’t matter. She was older, stronger, and she had backup.

  If Nightshade’s roving thugs attempted to stop her, she’d kill them. If they were Barrani thugs—and he had a few of those—she’d let Teela kill them. She’d help.

  The only thing she should be worrying about—besides Annarion and Teela—was the damned entrance to the Castle: it was a portal. The only time portals didn’t make her nauseated to the point of actually throwing up was when Nightshade literally carried her through the magical vortex.

  Being sick all over his polished marble floor was probably the smarter choice.

  “If you’re worried about the portal,” Teela said, as she finally slowed to a reasonable walk, “don’t be.”

  “Easy for you to say. Portals don’t bother you.”

  “That’s probably not what she meant,” Severn said, in exactly the wrong tone of voice.

  Kaylin had been paying too much attention to the rest of the streets; she’d been listening for Ferals. The streets were not well lit, and in most cases, the light was moonlight. It was a clear night, but even if it hadn’t been, Teela could practically see in the dark.

  What Teela was looking at now didn’t require Barrani vision to see; it was a black shape that rose into the sky. New buildings did not just appear in the fief of Nightshade. Even if the fieflord had a sudden change of heart, a building such as this one didn’t appear over the course of a couple of months; it was constructed over a decade.

  “Yes,” Kaylin said, although Teela didn’t ask. “It’s new. And it appears to be standing on the only piece of prime real estate in the fief.”

  It looked very much like the silhouette of a Tower.

  * * *

  Within five fief blocks, they confirmed what they’d strongly suspected: the Tower occupied roughly the same amount of space as the Castle that had once stood there. The courtyard—small and decorative, if one counted the empty hanging cages as decoration—near the entrance to Castle Nightshade was also absent. So were the gates. The Barrani who usually oversaw those black gates—the armored guards more suited to Court than to fiefs—hadn’t disappeared with them.

  They no longer guarded gates, or a fake portcullis. They stood to either side of doors that seemed, even in moonlight, to be made of polished obsidian.

  “This does not look promising,” Teela murmured. “Kitling, are you still in communication with the fieflord?”

  Since the mark on her cheek was warm enough it was probably glowing, the answer was obvious. Given Teela’s mood, Kaylin answered anyway. “He’s able to communicate with me.”

  “Ask him if this is what he expected the outside of his castle to look like.”

  The Tower was tall. It was taller than the Tower in Tiamaris, and looked infinitely less welcoming. The doors were its most striking feature, but the rest of the Tower wasn’t exactly nondescript. It suggested cliff faces on stormy nights; it looked sharp, angular, an almost natural protrusion.

  “He’s remarkably silent.”

  Tell Lord Teela that I am not certain it is wise to enter the Castle at the present time.

  No, thanks.

  I make no attempt to mark territory, or to assume command. The Castle is dangerously unstable. Tell her.

  Kaylin shook her head emphatically. She’s going in unless you forbid it. Given her mood, I’d be willing to bet she’d try anyway.

  A beat of silence followed. Will you caution Lord Severn?

  Same problem, except for the mood. If I go, he’s going, and if Teela’s going, I’m going.

  You will have to inform my men that I grant permission. At the moment, communications have been unreliable. Nightshade was at least partly amused. They will accept your words as if they were, in this case, my own.

  The mark.

  Yes. My brother dislikes it intensely; he wishes it removed. I have explained that its existence has saved lives, but he considers the practicalities incidental in this case.

  Is he wrong?

  You know he is not. When I consider the centuries in which I attempted to find solutions for his absence, I am reminded strongly of the mortal phrase: be careful what you wish for.

  Can he take the Castle from you?

  That is not my fear.

  What are you afraid of?

 
He did not intend to do what I believe has begun. He is waking the Tower.

  You mean he’s talking to—to the equivalent of Tara?

  Not deliberately. But something hears him, and I think it is struggling to respond.

  Where is Andellen?

  Within the Castle.

  * * *

  Getting permission to enter the doors was perfunctory. The guards took one look at Kaylin’s face, and stood back from them. They weren’t thrilled about Teela’s presence, but said nothing; they were Barrani. These weren’t negotiations. There was no partial obedience.

  Severn unwound his weapon chain. The run through the streets hadn’t merited full-on armaments. The unknown might.

  In all, things worked about as smoothly as they ever did until it came time to enter the Castle. The doors didn’t budge. Turning to the Barrani on the right, Kaylin said, “Are these doors a portal, like the portcullis used to be?”

  “They do not function in the same fashion,” the man replied, his eyes dark in the dim light. “Some can enter; some cannot.”

  “Has anyone who entered returned?”

  “Their purpose is to reach the side of our Lord; they have no reason to return.”

  “That’s a lot of syllables for No.”

  “Is there another entrance?” Teela asked.

  It was Kaylin who answered. “Yes. But given the disaster of tea in the Keeper’s Garden that’s an absolute last resort. Safe arrival is dependent on a concentrated amount of elemental water, and I’m not taking chances on enraged water unless the alternative is something worse than enraged Dragon.” She walked up to the closed doors and lifted a hand; her palm hovered an inch from its surface. Nothing made her skin ache.

  “You were right,” Teela said—in Leontine.

  “About what?”

  “They are far, far more trouble than you were when you wormed your way into the Hawks.”

  “It’s not supposed to be a competition, Teela.”

  “At the moment it isn’t—you’re so far behind you couldn’t catch up if you tried.”

  “Can Annarion open the door?”

  “Annarion doesn’t know the Castle,” Teela replied, grinding her teeth. “He can’t mesh the geography of what I see—and show him—with what he currently sees.”