Cast in Flame

by Michelle Sagara

  “Yes. The water, however, was not entirely pleased to be carrying one member of your party. Elemental water is not a person, but inasmuch as it can, it trusts Kaylin. Or it trusts Kaylin’s intent. You asked?”

  Kaylin hesitated. “Yes.”

  “This is another of Teela’s lost friends?”

  Severn nodded. Kaylin wouldn’t have; she would have asked him why he bothered to ask a question to which he already knew the answer. “Teela sees both Mandoran and Annarion as young Barrani men. I believe they see themselves as Teela sees them.”

  “You understand that she is not entirely objective, in this?”

  “Yes. But Evanton, I see Kaylin the same way.”

  White brows rose. So, for that matter, did dark ones.

  “Do not glare at him like that,” Evanton told her, although Kaylin wasn’t exactly glaring. “He is illustrating a point, and he is doing it with characteristic grace. You are Chosen. What this means—to you, to the world—is imprecise. You are not what you were when you lived as a child in Nightshade. But you are also not what you were seven years ago, when you first darkened my doorstep.

  “You are not, in my opinion, what you were a year ago. The essence of mortality implies constant change. The Barrani are not mortal, but they are distant kin—although I advise you to keep that to yourself. Be that as it may, the marks of the Chosen have changed you. They’ve changed what you believe you can—or can’t do. They have altered what you have to offer the world.” He nodded to Severn. “Your Corporal does not bear these obvious, distinguishing marks; he cannot make use of their power; he cannot shoulder the burden that comes with it.

  “But he, too, has changed, and he has different things to offer.” He turned his attention to Severn once again. “You believe that the two are similar, in some way, to Kaylin?”

  Kaylin’s eyes rounded so quickly they almost fell out of her head.

  “They’re nothing like Kaylin,” was Severn’s quick reply. “But...I think there’s some similarity in their circumstances. They don’t yet know what they are, so they cling to the comfort of what they were.”

  “Private,” Evanton said, to Kaylin, although he was in theory watching Severn, “One of these days your face is going to get stuck like that.”

  “I wouldn’t have called the ‘what I was’ part particularly comforting.”

  “That is because you have chosen to deliberately misconstrue the Corporal. Where you were is not all that you were; where you are now is not all that you are. Ah, and I have allowed myself to be sidetracked. I don’t have time to waste,” he added, the implication clearly being that Kaylin did. “So I will come to the point. You are at the moment living at the Palace, but you wish to live elsewhere.”

  “Desperately. The longer I’m there, the less I care where that ‘else’ is.”

  “I will not quibble. Most of the residents of Elani street would be thrilled beyond words to live in the Palace; it would generate a fair amount of business.” He had an elfin grin that he used rarely; clearly the idea of Margot in the Palace amused him.

  It put Kaylin off her feed. Unless, she thought, the Palace did have dungeons.

  “By a strange coincidence, an old friend of mine is looking to let a place in the city.”

  It hadn’t actually occurred to Kaylin that the curmudgeonly old man had any friends who were still alive. It was a novel thought. “Who?”

  “Pardon?”

  “Who is this friend?”

  He looked down the length of his nose. “I will pretend you didn’t attempt to pry into my personal life.”

  “Evanton—”

  He lifted both brows.

  “If I’m going to rent a place, I’m going to have to meet with them anyway. They’re someone you trust?”

  “They are someone I would not like to offend, which is why I’m ambivalent about even making the suggestion. But in my experience, there are very few coincidences. They are looking for a tenant. You are looking for a home.”

  She wilted.

  “You aren’t?”

  Bellusdeo, who had been as silent as the small dragon throughout most of this conversation, cleared her throat. She, like Evanton, abstained from tea; unlike Evanton, she ignored the cookies, as well. “She is. But she is saddled with a Dragon for a roommate, and at that, a Dragon the Emperor feels possessive about.”

  “Protective,” Severn said quietly.

  “There’s no practical difference.” She brushed invisible crumbs off her sleeve. “Because he does, our first viewing was an unmitigated disaster. It has been decided that we will avoid all future similar disasters by viewing only apartments that meet with the approval of Lord Emmerian. If he believes the quarters are—or can be made—suitably secure, we will be invited to inspect them.” She lifted her chin. “We would therefore be wasting the time of the friend you do not wish to offend.”

  To Kaylin’s surprise, Evanton chuckled. He really did like Bellusdeo. “Let me give you the address.”

  “And the name?”

  “The name will not mean anything to either of you. The address will at least mean something to someone who’s spent the better part of her life patrolling city streets.”

  “We need a name to mirror—” Kaylin began.

  “If, by some small miracle, your mirror can make a connection, she won’t answer. She hates mirrors, at least as a form of communication. If you wish to arrange an appointment, you will have to visit in person.”

  “How much is she asking?” Kaylin asked.

  Bellusdeo simultaneously said, “How large is the space?”

  “The answer to both of those questions,” the Keeper said, rising, “is variable. If she is willing to let the place to you, she will not ask for more than you can reasonably afford.”

  “The Emperor has offered to pay the lease,” Bellusdeo informed him.

  “I believe Kaylin is about to turn purple,” Evanton replied, his grin deepening.

  “I don’t see why he shouldn’t,” the Dragon said, although she carefully avoided meeting Kaylin’s narrowed eyes. “Given that most of the difficulties caused are caused by his ridiculous demands, it should be considered compensation.”

  “I will not argue with you,” Evanton said. “Nor will I disagree. Neither agreement nor disagreement will change Kaylin’s opinion. If she is to live somewhere, she can’t feel at home if she isn’t responsible for her own upkeep.”

  “That is a luxury I do not have at the moment.” Bellusdeo stood, as well. “But you are, of course, observant. If you believe that this is a space in which we could both feel at home, we will take the address.”

  “Oh, I’m not claiming that you’re certain—either of you—to feel at home. Home is a very personal concept, and I’m not in the business of giving personal advice. If I were,” he added, his voice sharpening, “I would have a few choice words to say to your Emperor. I believe Teela is just finishing up in the Garden, and she’ll be with you shortly.”

  * * *

  Kaylin was dying of curiosity. Bellusdeo, however, was not. The word Emperor set the Dragon’s teeth on edge—even when she was the one who used it. When they found themselves on the street side of Evanton’s door, she exhaled a couple of regal inches of height. “I like him,” she said. She sounded pensive.

  “You could probably visit him. He doesn’t get much company except poor Grethan, and I think he’d be happy for yours.”

  “And not yours?”

  Kaylin winced. “He met me when I was an angry, thirteen-year-old girl. He didn’t throw me out of his shop—probably because I was with Teela. He certainly didn’t bow when we were introduced.”

  “But he makes you tea and he bakes you...cookies?”

  “He bakes those for himself and pretends he’s doing me a favor,” Kaylin co
untered. She began to walk, in the deliberate, slow stride the Hawks used on patrol. Bellusdeo fell in beside her. “Teela?”

  The Barrani Hawk was quiet. It wasn’t a murderous silence—Kaylin was familiar enough with those she wouldn’t have uttered Teela’s name if it had been—but it was a softer sort of grim.

  “Yes, I spoke with the water. No, I’m not about to tell you everything that was said. It’s complicated and—with luck—completely irrelevant to your current situation.”

  “You know what my luck’s like.”

  “I do. I’m hoping, however, that it won’t rub off on me any more than it already has. What did Evanton want to say to you?”

  Kaylin considered withholding the information, since that’s what Teela was doing. She decided it was unforgivably petty, as opposed to the usual kind of petty they both indulged in. “He gave us a possible lead for an apartment.”

  Because Teela was ancient and had the benefit of experience, she didn’t miss a step. It was, judging by the shift in her expression, a close thing. “Where?”

  “Somewhere on Ashwood.”

  She frowned. “Ashwood is a tiny street in the East.”

  “You know where it is?”

  “Yes. You wouldn’t be terribly familiar with the street; it’s not heavily trafficked in any way. I doubt we have reports that even mention its existence, in the Halls. It’s not as close to the Halls as your previous home.”

  “Is it much farther than the Imperial Palace?”

  “Not much farther, no. Where, exactly, on Ashwood did he say it was?”

  “It’s number, umm—”

  “Three,” Bellusdeo supplied.

  Teela’s frown deepened. “Three.” She shook herself. “When are you going to look at this place?”

  The Dragon and the private exchanged a glance. “About that,” Kaylin finally said.

  “About that, what?”

  “We have to go to the place to make an appointment to see it.”

  “What, this place doesn’t even have mirror access? How old is it?”

  “Well, the owner is a friend of Evanton’s, if that’s any clue.”

  Teela pursed her lips. “You’re going tonight?”

  “We’re going to drop in to make an appointment to see it—but we won’t really have time to do more. We’ll probably try to inspect it tomorrow.”

  “Why won’t you have time?”

  “I was hoping...” At the moment, she kind of hoped a large hole would open up in the middle of Elani to swallow her. Given that she was in front of Margot’s, it would kill two birds with one stone.

  “I am not sure I’m constitutionally capable of listening to your explanation without a large inflow of alcohol. Unfortunately, you’re working. What, exactly, are you planning?”

  “I was going to ask Annarion if he wanted to...well...never mind.”

  “No, please, continue. Given the success of Annarion’s last outing, this might be the one instance in which a suggestion of yours, no matter how outrageous, might not be an unmitigated disaster.” Teela was in a mood.

  “I was hoping to take Annarion and Mandoran to meet Tara.”

  She half expected Teela to shriek. In public. Her brows certainly rose; her lips thinned. She even opened her mouth—but the words that fell out were not the ones Kaylin expected. “Have you consulted Tiamaris about this?”

  “...No.”

  “Given what happened at Nightshade, taking them to Tara without prior consultation is like suicide, only more painful.”

  Kaylin shook her head. “Tara’s awake. She’s in full control of herself and the land she inhabits. Whatever Annarion did, he did it with the Castle’s subconscious permission. Tara’s not sleeping. I don’t think either Mandoran or Annarion can cause trouble there.”

  Teela snorted.

  “Well, not accidental trouble, at any rate. I don’t think Annarion would try.”

  “You’re forgetting one important fact.”

  “What?”

  “Tiamaris,” Bellusdeo said, before Teela could, “is a Dragon.”

  “Well, yes, but— Oh. Right.”

  “I have noticed that Mandoran is not particularly fond of my people,” Bellusdeo continued.

  “He’s not,” Teela agreed. “But Mandoran didn’t attempt to assassinate you. We live with Dragons. We are, in theory, ruled by them. But we fought a few wars between my friends’ departure and their return. They’ll get used to it—and if they agree to visit Tara, they won’t antagonize Tiamaris.”

  “I’ve noticed you have an odd custom in the Hawks,” Bellusdeo told them both; it sounded like a change of subject. It wasn’t. “Betting?”

  “Kaylin’s fault.”

  “I would like to make a bet.”

  “No thanks,” Teela replied. “I wouldn’t, sadly, touch that one.”

  Kaylin, however, asked, “How much?”

  * * *

  Annarion, it turned out, didn’t want to visit Tara. Mandoran had recovered enough from his visit to Evanton’s that he was game.

  Teela agreed, grudgingly, to argue for the visit—in person.

  “Why don’t you just argue now?”

  Teela grimaced. “Annarion, Mandoran, and the rest of my cohort have lived with the constant flow of each other’s thoughts for almost as long as I’ve been alive. They’re accustomed to merging all thought and all experience; they sometimes forget whose experience it actually is, or was.” She exhaled for a long moment. “I lived with them for years, but our shared experiences—for me—ended at the Heart of the Green.

  “I mourned. You cannot imagine how much—or perhaps,” she added, voicing softening, “you can. But I could either destroy my life or live it. I learned to live it. I learned what other High Lords learn. I do not trust easily or often, and if I trust intent—which is rare—I seldom trust competence.”

  Kaylin had personal experience with this. About seven years’ worth.

  “I have allowed no one into my life the way I allowed my cohort into it. I learned to guard and hide my thoughts; I learned to control my emotional responses. Again, these are all traits the High Lords learn; if they fail, they fall. I therefore have a different set of choices when dealing with my friends: to join, or to stand back.” Her smile was slight. “I would not have said that I would choose the latter, if I were ever to find them again. I’ve changed. They’ve changed in a different way.

  “It’s...awkward.”

  “So...this request in person is a way of preserving your privacy?”

  Teela nodded. “You can speak with Nightshade any time you want. How often do you choose to do so?”

  Almost, but not quite, never. “It’s different.”

  “How?”

  “I had no idea what he was giving me, and I’ve never trusted him. I lived in the fief he ruled for most of my life. I know what he’s capable of. I know what’s beneath his notice—and that would be almost every other person in the fief. When you made the choice, you offered your name to people you both loved and trusted. It’s safer for me to argue with Nightshade in person than it is to argue...that way.”

  “You place an inordinate weight on the love and the trust given by children—which is what we were.”

  So do you, Kaylin thought. She didn’t say it out loud, and Teela couldn’t hear her.

  “I’m only barely willing to go to Tiamaris. I’ve listened with some interest when you speak of your Tara, and I’m willing—barely—to let curiosity override common sense. Annarion is against it. If he has the same effect on Tara as he did on the Castle, he’ll be facing an enraged Dragon and the possibility of a breach in the Shadow defenses. If he understood what he’d done to cause Castle Nightshade to react so strongly, he’d be willing to take the same risk I am. He
is,” she added, “one of three of my cohort who generally prefers common sense.

  “Given his concerns and their validity, I hope to make clear that Tara is a personal friend—of yours. She is fully awake, she is bluntly honest, and she is likely to be able to explicitly explain what he did to rouse Castle Nightshade. If he knows, he can take conscious control of the action, which means he might be able to visit his brother without immediately being a threat to his brother’s existence.”

  Severn brushed hair out of his eyes. “Have either of you considered the possibility that Tara will instantly recognize the two as a threat and will refuse to allow them entry?”

  Kaylin hadn’t.

  Teela, however, nodded. “I think your idea is solid. I admit that it would not have occurred to me.” She waited for Kaylin to pick up her jaw, which had fallen open and was hanging there. “Why are you looking so pensive?”

  “I just—I remember the first time I entered the Tower. I remember what I saw there. It was every single thing I had ever done wrong. Not small wrong, but big, self-defining wrong. It made me relive the horror of my own life, and my own bad choices.”

  “You’re rethinking your suggestion.”

  Kaylin shook her head. “She wasn’t trying to force me to live with my guilt. She was trying to show me that she understood the worst of my pain. And, you know, she did. She understood it completely. She knew every single thing I hated myself for. But she wasn’t trying to make me suffer more. I don’t think she really understood the way time works for mortals. I think of her as childlike. The best parts of childhood. The curiosity and the openness and the joy.

  “But...that’s not all she is, and that’s not all she knows. I think she’d like Mandoran and Annarion.”

  “Why, exactly, do you think that?”

  Kaylin frowned. “They grew up in a Hallionne. They could go where they wanted, moving between the Hallionne and the green. They understand sentient buildings in a way I’m certain I never will. And I think they’ll understand Tara in a way that even Tiamaris can’t.”

  “You think she’s lonely?”