Cast in Oblivion

by Michelle Sagara

  Emmerian failed to notice the hand that Kaylin had thrust beneath his chin. Kaylin glanced at her house, and then nodded. It was very seldom that Helen wanted privacy, and she suspected that the privacy involved comments about either Emmerian or Bellusdeo.

  * * *

  “Bellusdeo has not been commanded to wear the Arkon’s medallion.” This wasn’t news to Kaylin. “You, however, have.”

  “What?”

  “Bellusdeo has been given a choice. She is not a Lord of the Dragon Court; she has not sworn personal loyalty to the Emperor. Regardless, I believe the Emperor believes—correctly—that a command will be met with both anger and resentment. She was once ruler, as he now is; she will weigh the dinner and its possible outcomes.”

  “And my anger and resentment would be pointless.”

  “You are a Hawk, and you are sworn to serve the Imperial Laws. He is the man to whom the Lord of Hawks reports. He is therefore your commanding officer, at a great remove. You have been given an order.”

  “Why didn’t Emmerian just say that, then?”

  “I believe he did not say it because Bellusdeo was present.”

  “But he’s not telling her what to do, just me.”

  “Yes. But, Kaylin, Bellusdeo is very sensitive when it comes to Imperial commands or demands. The offer itself might move her—she is fond of the Arkon. Commanding you, however, is likely to annoy her. She is protective of you because she no longer has a kingdom or an empire to govern. And you find yourself in the middle of so much trouble, it has comforted her to be so.” At Kaylin’s expression, Helen sighed. “You give her something to do that doesn’t feel trivial. You’re Chosen. She has great respect for that, and the Emperor appears to have none.

  “If Lord Emmerian is to tell you that you have no choice unless you wish to disobey a direct order...”

  “Oh. I get it. And he wants me to wear this without having to give me those orders.”

  “Yes. I believe it is very important to the Arkon—but that is just a guess, and at that, it is Lord Emmerian’s guess. And frankly, if you wear it, Bellusdeo is far less likely to argue or resent its presence around her own neck.” Helen smiled. “I like Bellusdeo. I wish for her to be happy; she is not happy now, and I do not believe she believes that happiness exists for her.

  “The Arkon would ask, no more. Lord Diarmat would demand. The Emperor would command.”

  “But he didn’t.”

  “No. He didn’t. But command is his nature.”

  “And Sanabalis?”

  “I have not met him, and have only your impressions to go by; I am not therefore certain what he would do. But Lord Emmerian has chosen the best approach. To offer, and to wait.”

  “And my best approach?”

  “To do what you would otherwise be ordered to do, but gracefully. Not for your own sake, of course, but for hers.”

  Kaylin cursed—quietly—and slid the uncomfortable gold chain around her neck. It was cold, and it was itchy. “Helen—”

  “Yes, I can remove the enchantment. But I cannot do it well. I think you might ask Teela for help. Or perhaps Lord Emmerian himself. It is a minor magic.”

  * * *

  Lord Emmerian did, as Helen suggested, have the ability to remove the enchantment. So did Bellusdeo, and in the end, although Emmerian offered, Bellusdeo took the gold chain in hand, and Bellusdeo removed the protection. It made no immediate difference to the look of the chain, nor did it make any difference to its weight—which was not insubstantial. This was not meant to be hidden.

  “I wore something like this the first time I had to visit the High Halls,” Kaylin said.

  “I assure you, you wore nothing like this,” Bellusdeo said.

  “Well, it came from Sanabalis—uh, Lord Sanabalis, but it was sort of similar.”

  The two Dragons exchanged a telling glance.

  “And it was actually useful, unlike most jewelry.”

  Lord Emmerian rose and bowed to Bellusdeo; Kaylin suspected it was because he was fighting to keep his smile from becoming all-out laughter. Bellusdeo, however, didn’t bother. She laughed. “There are subtle uses for much jewelry, and the tiaras of the Arcanum are, as you said, actually useful to their wearers. But...yes, most jewelry is a statement, a bit of color.” She was wearing the medallion, but it had not left her palm. “Lord Emmerian, I thank you. You are a Lord of the Dragon Court, and it cannot be often that you are sent as an errand runner.”

  “Far more often than you think,” Emmerian replied. “But I understand the purpose of the errands I am asked to run, and in the end feel that they are necessary.”

  Kaylin attempted to imagine Diarmat running errands, and failed spectacularly.

  “Yes, perhaps. If Lannagaros was not to deliver these in person, they could not simply be handed to the Imperial messenger service. He trusts you,” she added.

  “Yes. But, Bellusdeo, he trusts every member of the Dragon Court. It is a small Court, smaller even than the smallest of Flights during the ancient wars, but given the nature of the Emperor’s hoard, those who comprise the Court must be trustworthy. Arguments cannot be resolved in the manner of old; it would destroy or damage what he has built.

  “And what you,” he added softly, turning to Kaylin, “and your mortal kin have built.”

  Bellusdeo said something; it was lost to a roar of pure rage.

  Helen’s Avatar froze as she abandoned it. Abandoning it, on the other hand, meant that the whole of her house’s attention was focused elsewhere. Bellusdeo all but ran toward the dining room; Kaylin followed.

  Or she would have followed, but Emmerian grabbed her arm.

  “I’ll be safe.”

  “It’s not your safety that I wish to speak of. I wish to extend my gratitude.”

  She blinked.

  “Thank you for accepting the Arkon’s gift. Thank you for allowing Bellusdeo to likewise accept what otherwise might be almost humiliating for her.”

  “Not humiliating. She likes the Arkon.”

  His expression shifted. “Yes. She does. But she was Emperor, in her world. It was hers to protect, to safeguard, to fight for. She failed. It is gone. She has been reduced, here and now, to someone who can no longer do any of the things for which she trained. She protects you, Chosen. She is still searching for a different life on which to build.”

  Kaylin frowned, her brow furrowing. After a long pause, she looked up at Emmerian. “Does the Emperor consider the palace guard to be an embarrassment?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “The mostly human, very mortal palace guard?”

  Lord Emmerian’s brows rose slightly, as did the corner of his lips. “No.”

  “Then Bellusdeo shouldn’t consider the protection offered by those who are somehow weaker embarrassing.”

  “And if we all managed to do what we logically should, the world—all worlds—would be a different place.” He bowed deeply. “I will see myself out if you wish to investigate.”

  * * *

  When Kaylin managed to get to the dining room, it was silent.

  It wasn’t empty—but half of the cohort was missing. She cringed. “Training room?” she asked her absent house, without much hope.

  “There was a stability problem,” Helen replied. Although she had a deadpan voice, this was a dead giveaway; the more neutral Helen sounded, the more frantic she was.

  “‘Frantic’ is harsh. The word you want is concerned.”

  “What happened?”

  “Tain joined the group and they were forced, for reasons of consideration, to have their arguments verbally.”

  Ugh. Annarion and Nightshade had only barely stopped having their “verbal” arguments.

  “What?” Mandoran said. He looked queasy, almost hungover. “You didn’t expect that with all of us under the same roof it’d get qui
eter?” He rolled his very blue eyes. Kaylin was almost surprised to see that he was still in the dining room. So was Annarion, but where Mandoran’s skin was a shade of yellow-green, Annarion’s was chalky.

  Tain, the reason the cohort had become deliberately vocal, was no longer in the room.

  To one side of the table, obviously separate from what remained of the cohort, sat Terrano. His eyes were black, all pupil, but otherwise he appeared to be a normal, if dejected, Barrani youth. Allaron, the giant, sat beside Terrano, but his attention was turned to Torrisant and Serralyn.

  The rest of the cohort was absent. Kaylin silently counted by name: Karian, Eddorian, Valliant, Fallessian, Sedarias. Teela. Teela. “Helen?”

  “There has been some dissolution; some of the cohort let their emotions get the better of them. They are contained, at the moment, but it is surprisingly difficult.”

  “Worse than Mandoran?”

  Mandoran snorted.

  “Mandoran has never been difficult to contain,” Helen replied. “He is very difficult to cage, but he is more or less in control of his actions.”

  This time, it was Terrano who snorted.

  Mandoran glared at the side of his face.

  Bellusdeo, Kaylin noted, had arrived in the dining room, but she hadn’t taken a seat. “Lord Emmerian has departed?”

  Kaylin nodded.

  “I’m sorry,” Helen said, her voice at its most gentle—which was also, oddly enough, her most intractable, “but Teela has asked that Bellusdeo remain in the dining room with the rest of her friends. I think she believes it will keep them calmer.”

  “Why?” Kaylin demanded. “It’s not like they’re not already screaming at each other on the insides of their heads.”

  “They are guests when outsiders are present.”

  Bellusdeo snorted. “At this point, we’re hardly outsiders.” She folded her arms.

  “I haven’t noticed that Teela is in the dining room,” Kaylin pointed out. “I’ll pull her out if she’s caught in the same mess as last time.”

  “And I’ll go with her,” Bellusdeo added.

  Allaron rose, as well. Unseated, he towered. His eyes were blue, but they weren’t as dark as Annarion’s. Teela did not ask Helen to keep Allaron at the table as he joined Kaylin.

  “What were you arguing about?” Kaylin asked as they headed toward the kitchen and the closet with the actual descending stairs.

  “What weren’t they arguing about?” Allaron’s Elantran was as good as Mandoran’s, but at this point, Kaylin expected that.

  “They?”

  “Allaron doesn’t generally argue,” Terrano said.

  Kaylin jumped; Terrano wasn’t small for a Barrani, and until he’d spoken she hadn’t been aware that he’d joined them.

  “No?”

  Allaron shook his head. “At my size, you don’t.” Kaylin had always envied people of Allaron’s stature. “At your height, at your size, you’re not a threat. You might annoy people; you won’t terrify them. If you’re angry, people don’t immediately assume that you’re going to hurt them. They probably won’t immediately assume you can.” He held up a hand as Kaylin opened her mouth. “I’m not questioning your ability to hurt someone. I’m fairly certain you’ve killed men in your time. But your casual anger doesn’t cause fear.

  “The Barrani don’t like fear. Some will start a fight to prove they don’t have any—fear, that is. And some will hide the fear, but...there’s constant, quiet anxiety. I try to sit, if I don’t want to cause pressure, but because of my size, I learned—early—to control myself and to choose my words with care.”

  “So did I.”

  “You learned to avoid causing offense around people who had more power. I learned to avoid causing anxiety in people who had less. It became second nature.”

  Terrano was frowning. Helen repeated Allaron’s words in Barrani, and he snorted.

  “I didn’t mind causing anxiety in armed people who were trying to remove my limbs. We’re not talking battlefield etiquette here. And Teela doesn’t think the argument is worth repeating.”

  “To me, right?”

  “Yes. Tain was present, and he heard it all. I don’t know why she bothers, though. Mandoran will say something sooner or later.”

  “So...the people who are in the training room didn’t deliberately lose cohesion.”

  “No.”

  “And they dragged Teela in?”

  “Yes. Teela did not lose cohesion—as you put it—of her own volition. I believe she finds it very disorienting.”

  “And none of the rest of you do.”

  “Not in the same way, no.”

  Kaylin cursed in Aerian, which the cohort was less likely to know. “You guys do realize that the Consort is coming to dinner, right? This is exactly what she’s going to be afraid of.”

  “You’ve been attempting to cancel that dinner.”

  “Of course I have!”

  “Teela suggests you keep trying.”

  * * *

  The first thing Kaylin saw as they finished their crowded descent was Tain’s back. He stood in front of an open door, arms by his sides. It was a readied stance, but he carried no weapons. The first thing she heard was a very chilly Teela, although she hadn’t reached the door itself to peer through.

  “I asked you to remain upstairs.”

  Tain didn’t bother to reply, and at that point, Kaylin was almost directly behind him.

  People were more or less in their regular shapes and sizes. They were, to a Barrani, blue-eyed, and Karian was quivering with indignation—or with the attempt to actually maintain a physical form. Kaylin wasn’t certain which. Terrano whistled, and the whole of the cohort beyond the now-open door turned to glare at him.

  He deserved the glare; his smile was beyond cheeky. Kaylin was clearly not the only person to feel this way; Allaron cuffed him on the head. This made Kaylin smile, but inwardly; she could remember Marcus doing the same to her, back in the day. She had watched his first wife send the cublings rolling; they curled into literal fur balls, and when they came to a stop, unfurled, exposing their stomachs, which she then nuzzled. It was the same kind of smack.

  Terrano was never going to expose his stomach, though. “You are all hopeless,” he told Sedarias. Kaylin, frankly, would have gone for a different target.

  Eddorian, Valliant, Fallessian and Sedarias turned to glare at him; Karian still seemed to be concentrating. Teela turned to glare at Tain. Bellusdeo cleared her throat. The miasma of anger and hostility froze instantly; even Terrano tensed. The only people who didn’t were Teela and Tain.

  Having a group mind clearly didn’t confer actual, physical experience. Kaylin was pretty certain Mandoran wouldn’t have tensed, either. Oh, he’d’ve been thinking—but he’d have been thinking of a clever rejoinder, a way to tease the Dragon, to score a point.

  “Yes,” Helen said. “He would. But although he won’t come out and say it, he’s quite fond of Bellusdeo. He was far less comfortable about having Tain come to stay. Ah, apologies,” she added, her voice indicating a blush her face usually wouldn’t. “I forget myself.”

  Teela snorted. The rest of the cohort seemed to accept that the apology was genuine.

  It was Kaylin who pushed past Tain to enter the room first, although Bellusdeo was not far behind. Tain stepped to the side to get out of the Dragon’s way. “What happened?”

  “As Helen has no doubt informed you,” Sedarias replied in stiff High Barrani, “our discussion involved some heated disagreement.”

  “Did one of you try to kill another one of you?”

  “The word you want is punch,” Helen said.

  At Kaylin’s expression, Sedarias snorted. “Please do not tell me you have never experienced the desire to punch Teela.”

  “I’ve never been a great liar, so I’
m not going to bother. I wasn’t ever stupid enough to try, if that helps.”

  “You did try to change the lock on your apartment door, that I recall.”

  “I was tired of getting pushed out of bed whenever you were bored!” The lock change had resulted in a door that couldn’t be locked, an angry landlord and Caitlin fielding questions, demands, carpenters and locksmiths.

  Terrano snickered. “You broke her door?”

  “I thought the door was stuck. It was an aged building with warped, creaking floors, and warped shutters over small windows.”

  It was Tain who coughed this time. Teela shrugged. “It’s not like she didn’t give us a standing invitation. And keys, at least to the first door.”

  Kaylin thought Terrano’s understanding of Elantran had improved markedly. “No,” Helen said quietly. “I am translating for him. I sometimes forget to do it quietly.”

  “Quietly?”

  “I am capable of speaking to one person, and one alone—but it uses different muscles, and more power, and it requires the creation of a small, contained space. I explained this to Terrano, and he was willing to allow this. I haven’t tried to do this for you.”

  “Sometimes it would be helpful.”

  “Yes.”

  “But?”

  “But,” Helen agreed. “This house is your house. To isolate you within your own house is obviously something I am capable of—but it is best left for emergencies. To do this for you—as opposed to your guests—I would be cutting you off from the rest of the space that comprises me. It would make functioning as a house much more difficult.”

  “You know,” Karian said, apparently to the room at large, “it would be helpful to the rest of us if you’d just return to us.”

  Terrano stiffened. Allaron dropped a hand on Terrano’s shoulder, but before he could speak—and Allaron wasn’t one for a lot of words—Mandoran materialized. He put a hand on the shoulder Allaron’s wasn’t occupying. “Walls?” he asked.

  Terrano slowly unclenched. “You know—you guys can’t do this anywhere but here. Not until you’re good enough at it.”