She told him. She told him everything, while running along a very flat Winston. She slowed only when she could see the distant city.
Structures rose in the distance, tall, pale, and slightly curved; they towered over the mass of what might be smaller buildings. The air was thick, hazy; the towers in the distance seemed to waver as Kaylin, Bellusdeo and the cohort approached.
Terrano had said that it was a city of cages, of traps, and Kaylin could see what he meant: the structures she thought of as towers seemed to curve inward, toward what existed beneath them; an odd light seemed to illuminate them from within.
In Elantran buildings, this would imply windows, lamps.
This was not Elantra.
“Kaylin?” Bellusdeo touched her shoulder, a gesture that implied this wasn’t the first time she’d tried to get Kaylin’s attention.
Terrano was watching her as well. All of the cohort were.
She said nothing; they had slowed and she made no attempt to pick up the pace. Instead, she spoke a single word. “Ravellon.”
It wasn’t a city. It could be mistaken for one, as Terrano had said. But Kaylin had spent time in the morgue at the Halls of Law. She’d spent time watching Red at work. She had words for most of the parts of a body, although they didn’t get much use.
Those structures weren’t towers. They weren’t buildings. That Shadows had somehow made a home of them didn’t change the facts.
Kaylin.
If a giant had died in a desert, this is what they might leave behind. The towers were the great, fleshless rib cage of something far larger than Kaylin had ever seen in life.
Severn watched silently, as he often did. She felt his presence in the back of her thoughts and found it easier to catch her breath. Well?
He failed to answer the question she had asked. Can you see the borders of Ravellon?
She nodded; she could. But the borders seemed somehow mundane, slight; they were not the casket in which a body such as this should have been interred. We need to reach the Towers in the fiefs. We need to find Tiamaris.
You know the risk.
Yes, I know the risk. We’re way too close. But we can’t go back to Kariastos. The Consort promised that we’d be safe—Bellusdeo and I—but promised nothing about the cohort.
If you can, try not to be hurt.
I’m not hurt. I’m angry.
The worst anger always comes from hurt. You trusted her. You feel betrayed.
Wouldn’t you?
I honestly believe that she intends you no harm. I believe she would safeguard Bellusdeo against the war band, either in the West March or in Elantra. I do not believe she had anything to do with that.
But the cohort—
Teela is spitting fire, by the way.
So am I.
Yes, but not for the same reasons. I believe she is angry at Sedarias.
What? Why?
She won’t answer. Neither will Mandoran or Annarion. If I were you—if I were exactly you—I would take the risk you’re now taking.
And if you were you, but in my position?
I’m not you. I’m worried, but—do what you need to do. I’ll meet you there.
No, wait!
Silence.
Severn—don’t—
Silence.
She cursed in very loud and heartfelt Leontine, and turned toward the city.
Toward Ravellon.
* * *
Winston pulled himself up from the ground. “This is as far as I can safely go,” he told Kaylin, his expression grave. “I do not think I need tell you that Bertolle will be concerned.”
“No, you don’t. Tell him thank you.”
“For what?”
“For sending you and your brother to help us. I’m not sure why he did it.”
“He was worried about you.” Winston smiled. “We would like it if you came to visit.”
“I’m just wondering if there’s any way you guys could come visit me. I live in a building that was once a little bit like a Hallionne.”
“There are Hallionne in your city?”
“No, she’s not a Hallionne. She’s a sentient building, with the usual range of control over anything that happens within her borders.”
“She was built close to Ravellon?”
“Yes, but she’s not a Tower, either. Her name’s Helen,” she added. “And I think she’d be happy to meet you. You could—”
“Kaylin,” Bellusdeo said, her voice a suspicious rumble. Kaylin glanced to confirm that she had gone full Dragon. “I understand that you wish to express gratitude, but now is not the time. Can you see the city?”
Kaylin nodded.
“It is Ravellon.” Bellusdeo was the definition of grim, now. “And Ravellon exists everywhere.”
“Can you see the rest of the city?”
“No. But Elantra is not Ravellon.”
“Can you see the fiefs?”
“I can see the Towers,” Bellusdeo said quietly. “And we’re going to have a small problem, if I judge your intent correctly.”
“What problem?”
“Look at the Towers.”
Kaylin felt herself wilt as she obeyed. She could see the Towers. Terrano had been right: they were visible. But none of them looked like the Towers with which she was familiar. They were built around Ravellon, but seemed, to her eye, to stand at the very edge of that fief’s boundaries. And they were absolutely identical.
“Does it matter which Tower?” Terrano asked.
“Yes. There’s only one that isn’t likely to immediately destroy us all, or make the attempt to do so.”
“So...this was your plan?”
“I was kind of short on time.”
The cohort were speaking among themselves. Sedarias turned toward Kaylin. “The Shadows are moving.”
“I can see that.” Kaylin glanced at Bellusdeo; the Dragon’s eyes were blood red.
“You mean to approach Tiamaris.”
“Tara, yes. I think there’s a good chance she’ll let us in through the back door. If we can find it.”
“Castle Nightshade?” Bellusdeo asked.
“Will devour us whole. All of us. Without blinking. Nightshade can control the Tower, but I wouldn’t put it beyond his damn castle to kill us in an eye blink, which would be about the time it would take Nightshade to assert control. His Tower really doesn’t like Annarion, and I’m guessing by extension all the rest of the cohort as well.”
You underestimate me, Nightshade said, clearly unamused.
“We’d rather avoid it, if we can,” Sedarias told Kaylin. “We...know what Annarion encountered.”
* * *
Kaylin cursed her lack of affinity with geography. Loudly. Often. There was very little in Records about Ravellon, and both the streets and buildings that made up Ravellon were known to physically change when people entered the fief.
There were seven Towers.
The most obvious landmark, the Ablayne river, was nowhere in sight. In fact, none of the streets beyond Ravellon were visible; nothing marked the location of the city she called home. Which made sense. In no way could they have reached Elantra from the West March by foot in so short a time. They couldn’t have done it on horseback, either; Kaylin was less certain about riding Dragon-back, because Dragons could move. Regardless, Bellusdeo couldn’t transport the entire cohort simultaneously.
Bellusdeo scanned the horizon, in part because there was something to scan, and in part because of what that something was. She had lived in Ravellon, albeit as a sword in the hand of an enslaved Maggaron.
“You are thinking too loudly,” the gold Dragon said.
“Do you recognize anything?”
“Yes. And no. Ravellon changes from moment to moment. There’s no certain sense of geograp
hy.”
“Do you remember much about it?” This question, Kaylin asked in a much more hesitant tone. She didn’t like to pry into the past—and the past pain—of others, because she hated it when people pried into hers. She wanted the past to be irrelevant. She wanted the present and the future to be the only things that mattered. And of course, that was impossible. Even now, the past defined so much of her life. But...if that past had brought her to this point—well, to the point of serving the Halls of Law, to be precise—it was the right past. It had led here.
Lord Kaylin.
Go away.
Ynpharion was frustrated. He was also afraid.
She’s not going to blame you for this. This is not on you.
There is a danger.
Kaylin almost laughed out loud, but it would have been bitter, cynical laughter, and she didn’t want to have to explain it to the cohort. No kidding.
You have not attracted attention, yet. The Lady asks—the Lady begs—that you come away while you have the chance. She is willing, and he clearly begrudged the word, to guarantee the safety—and freedom—of your...friends.
The astonishment must have shown on Kaylin’s face, because Sedarias asked, instantly, what had happened.
“I’m indirectly in contact with the Consort.”
Since Barrani eyes in this gathering were already all the bad blue color, Sedarias’s didn’t get any darker. “And?”
“She—she wants us to go back.”
“And we’d like to be wealthy and powerful beyond all compare. What of it?”
“No, I mean—she says she’ll guarantee your safety and freedom.”
“Ours?” Sedarias glanced at Bellusdeo. This surprised Kaylin.
“She already promised that she wouldn’t harm either me or the Dragon.”
“Oh?”
“When we left Kariastos, and the portal path. She made it clear she had never had any intention of harming or caging us.” At Sedarias’s expression, she continued. “She didn’t want us to come to Ravellon. She was afraid of what would happen.”
“To you.”
Kaylin shrugged.
“Are you a complete fool?” One of the cohort laughed. It certainly wasn’t Sedarias, who had asked the outraged question. “We have historically already clashed at least once with the Consort and her forces. You must remember it—you were there. She has every right to be suspicious of us; she has every right to take sensible precautions!”
“And you wanted to be trapped in those sensible precautions? You wanted me to accept them without even knowing what they were? Without being informed, or asked for an opinion or anything?”
“Of course not! But there is no reason whatsoever why you—and the Dragon—should not have accepted the Hallionne’s safety and hospitality!”
Terrano’s attention was bouncing between Kaylin and Sedarias. “I think,” he said, when it was Kaylin’s turn to speak, “we should stop shouting. I’m not certain how much the Shadows in Ravellon are aware of, but we probably don’t want to attract attention. Any attention. At all.” He was glaring at the cohort, not Kaylin.
Sedarias was fuming. She was capable of the stony neutrality of her kind, but it had apparently failed to become her natural, normal expression.
It was Bellusdeo who came to the rescue, metaphorically speaking. She said, “I know where Tiamaris is.”
The cohort looked at Kaylin as Kaylin turned to Bellusdeo. “How?”
“We lost our lands, and our world, to Shadow. But we fought it for a long time. Do you see the reddish glow there, in the distance?”
Kaylin’s eyes were neither draconian nor Barrani. Terrano said, “To the left?”
Bellusdeo nodded. “Those are specific signal lights; we used them to mark decaying borders and areas of great concern. They are magical in nature, and they can be seen if Shadows envelope the land. The Norannir are there, and they keep those fires burning. They don’t,” she added, half-apologetically, “trust your Towers.”
“Can you lead us there?”
The Dragon nodded. “I am ill-prepared for combat, but—yes. Can we assume that the Tower closest to the fires is the one we want?”
“I hope so.”
* * *
Bellusdeo followed a circuitous route to reach the fires, which became visible to Kaylin only after they’d been walking for ten minutes. There was a direct path to Kaylin’s eyes, and apparently to Terrano’s as well, given the looks he was aiming at the side of the Dragon’s face, but both were willing to trust Bellusdeo’s greater experience.
Sedarias also said nothing. And that, Kaylin thought, was the benefit of living with Mandoran. His constant sniping—and to be fair, Bellusdeo’s—had rendered the gold Dragon harmless. For a value of harmless that suited a very large, golden Dragon with blood-red eyes.
They didn’t question her; even Terrano didn’t put his growing unease into words. And to be fair, Kaylin felt no doubt at all. She glanced at her familiar; he was slumped across her shoulders, but lifted his head when she looked at him. His sigh was audible to everyone present, even Bellusdeo, whose much, much larger head turned toward him.
He remained silent, and Bellusdeo returned to the task at hand.
* * *
As they approached the fires, Terrano grew more agitated. Kaylin was worried about him. Not about what he’d do, precisely, but about Terrano himself. Without thinking, she slid an arm around his shoulders. He stiffened, and she withdrew it, but Sedarias had seen.
Sedarias surprised Kaylin; she substituted her own arm for the one Kaylin had withdrawn. Terrano also surprised Kaylin. He didn’t look any more comfortable. “This is hard,” he said quietly.
“What’s hard?”
“This trying to be what used to be normal. It’s hard.”
Kaylin froze; Bellusdeo picked up the pace, forcing the Hawk to scurry to catch up. “You don’t know what happened when Annarion and Mandoran came to Elantra.”
“No, but I can guess.”
Sedarias said something in a voice too low for Kaylin to catch.
“When I first headed out into the outlands, I attracted attention. Most of it wasn’t harmful. Some of it could easily have killed me. When you’re searching for something—and I wasn’t searching for any specific thing—you almost vibrate in time with the world. It’s hard to explain. You need to keep that to a bare minimum if you don’t want to be eaten. But—it’s hard. It’s hard to do it here. If I were near Alsanis, I could just fall back into the places you live.
“But even if it was easy, it would be dangerous to do it here.” He hesitated. “There’s some part of me—of us—that is a little bit like Ravellon.” As Bellusdeo turned again, her draconic ears missing nothing, Terrano rushed to continue. “It isn’t about Shadow. That isn’t what I meant. But Ravellon exists here. You can all see it. I can see it. Ravellon exists in your homelands. Ravellon existed in the world the Dragon ruled. Ravellon exists everywhere.
“We don’t exist everywhere, but we exist in more than one place. We’re here, but we’re also there, where you two live. We spread. We changed. We grew. We had no choice.”
“An interesting definition of choice,” Bellusdeo rumbled.
“You would have done the same.”
A small puff of exhaled smoke, and then the Dragon said, “I would have done more, probably.”
This came as a relief to Terrano. The rest of the cohort expected it.
Dragon smiles—when the Dragon was in the scaled form—were not a comforting display of humor, but the Dragon smiled anyway, exposing very large teeth. “It’s necessary for you to stay as quiet as possible. When we reach the city—”
“I’m not going into the city,” Terrano said.
The cohort rustled; there was no other word for the wave of small movements that seemed to pass through them all. Te
rrano didn’t seem to notice.
It was Sedarias who spoke. “Yes, you are.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
The Dragon rolled her eyes and snorted smoke.
“I have no reason to go to the city.”
“Are you here?”
“Here is not the city. Here is not the High Halls. Here is not the hive of buzzing politicians and the families that tossed us—that tossed me—away. I hated it, you know? I hated it. All of the life I remember before the green, before all of you, was nothing but anger and bitterness, nothing but criticism. I was too frivolous. I was too stupid. I was too unreliable. I was too childish.
“My past is littered with my constant failures. I was a failure—that’s why I was sent to the green. And nothing’s changed. Nothing. What I want is not what they wanted, if any of them still survive.”
“They do.”
“They have nothing to offer me. They have nothing I want. They have nothing I ever wanted. I thought all of life would be just that, and only that—an eternity of living a life I didn’t want, until someone got lucky, or angry enough, and I died. I am not going.”
Betting? Severn asked. Kaylin was surprised by his voice. He was reaching out to her when it wasn’t a matter of someone’s life or death. The subject was not an emergency or an investigation.
Depends. Are you betting that Sedarias wins?
Yes.
Not touching it.
Coward.
* * *
Breath held, they finally reached what Bellusdeo called signal fires. In the distance, it seemed a reasonable thing to call them; up close it was in no way accurate. They were a far more livid red, in a landscape that was otherwise so muted in color it could be safely called gray. Even Ravellon itself was faded and pale. The fires were not.
Nor were they hot; they weren’t even warm.
“I would not touch those if I were you,” the Dragon told Kaylin. “And I would definitely avoid them if I were any of the cohort.”
Sedarias said, “Why?”
“You are not what we are.”
“We’re Barrani.”
“I am willing to entertain that polite fiction. But at the heart of this debacle is the truth. You may, of course, choose to risk it.”
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