Cast in Flame (27 page)

Tara said, after a very long pause, “The house on Ashwood is as old as I am.”

* * *

Mandoran was the first person to speak. He perked up. “That
does
sound interesting. Can we come along?”

He really did remind Kaylin of some of the foundlings: he could go from crushing depression to wild enthusiasm in the space of a word or a heartbeat. Kaylin had never been that emotionally flexible. She glared.

He smiled brightly, like a puppy. Exactly like a puppy. Given what had happened at Evanton’s, Mandoran was about the last person she wanted to take with her. If the rooms were halfway decent, and they
somehow
met the strict demands of the bloody Dragon Court, Kaylin needed to make a
good
impression on the landlord.

She opened her mouth to say as much, but the puppy eyes defeated her. She couldn’t kick him in the figurative face.

Tara, however, said, “I think that is a very bad idea.”

Mandoran’s brows rose.

“I wouldn’t have let you cross the bridge if Kaylin hadn’t asked it as a favor. I wouldn’t happily let you wander the streets of the fief, now, although I am comfortable having you as a guest in the Tower itself. Because you
are
here, and because you are speaking with me in ways that Kaylin and Teela can’t hear, I understand that you have no ill intent. But Mandoran—and Annarion—I could
hear
you from the bridge. And there are things that can hear you from farther away.”

“You haven’t explained
how
we’re talking,” Mandoran finally said.

Tara looked troubled. “I don’t understand how you can’t understand it,” she finally said. “But I think...you are used to speaking with your friends in a very specific way.”

It got a lot quieter.

“Your friends are used to hearing what you say or think. They see what you see and hear what you hear, even if they cannot otherwise see or hear it themselves. You, in turn, hear what they think of your experience; it becomes part of what you individually believe.”

Mandoran snorted.

“Not all your responses are verbal. Many of them are conscious; none of them are what would normally be considered speech among the rest of your race.” She turned to Teela. “The Lord of this Tower was, for centuries, a Barrani High Lord. He, like all of you, possessed a True Name. Unlike the three of you, his hatred of this weakness was so vast, he all but destroyed himself in an attempt to be rid of it. He would not—and did not—make the choices that you made. The existence of the name itself was anathema to him; he would not have shared it, even to preserve his life. You did. You did so willingly, and I believe it brought you joy.”

“I was very much younger,” Teela said, as if in her own defense.

“Yes. It is not a choice you would willingly make now. But that is not true of your kin. I will,” she added, “call them kin, unless you object.”

Sarcasm drifted in and out of Teela’s expression; she leashed it because she was talking to Tara, who often took things literally. “I have no objection.”

“You alone of the twelve were not part of this continuous conversation. You did not adopt their habits; I do not believe, given the differences in your living conditions, that you could.”

“I couldn’t reach them—”

“We tried!” Annarion and Mandoran said, in one breath. Kaylin had the suspicion that they were not the only ones who did, but she couldn’t hear the others.

“It is not an accusation. For whatever reasons, you did not develop the same communication paradigm as your kin. You hear them now as you would hear anyone whose name you were given. For the most part, you converse as Barrani converse; with words, and in speech.

“The others were transformed by their early appropriation of a language not meant for your kind. In the formative years, they had no other ways of speaking, if I understand their situation correctly. They did not learn silence; they did not learn to guard their thoughts. When they felt anger, confusion, resentment—or love—it did not occur to them not to share it.

“I believe the Hallionne Alsanis heard their voices. They were the only voices he might hear, given his self-imposed isolation. He understood what they had lost, and in some fashion, I believe both Alsanis and the Heart of the Green attempted to protect the core of what they had been before the
regalia.
But what they protected existed outside of your friends for a very long time. They were connected to it—but it was not all that they were. It is not all that they are now.” She turned to Annarion. “Were you trapped within the Hallionne?”

“Yes. For centuries. Only toward the end of our imprisonment did we find ways of slipping outside.”

“You are outside, now,” was Tara’s almost serene reply. “But you do not yet fully understand what exists outside of the Hallionne. When you left the Hallionne, you did not walk the roads that led you there in the first place. You entered spaces that were not meant for your kind. Many of the Barrani have come to these places—but they come from their own lands, and return to them quickly. They cannot remain beyond without changing, and they cannot control the changes.

“You approached the other worlds from within one of them. The paths that eventually led you to some small amount of freedom were not paths that your Teela could walk without great effort and intense magical preparation. Even were she to do so, she could not live on them; she would starve to death, in time.

“This was not true for you. Not until now. You have come home, but home is not the place you imagined it would be. You are not familiar with your physical bodies; you are not familiar with the limitations under which all of you exist.”

“But—”

“Yes, Kaylin?”

“They’re alive. They live
in
their bodies.”

“They do, yes. They do now. But Kaylin, so does your familiar. It is not the only place he exists, and that is not the only shape he either knows or has.”

The small dragon squawked.

“He believes you know this already,” she told Kaylin. “And perhaps he is right. But knowing something and understanding it are not the same. You don’t consider the small dragon a threat. Most of the Barrani consider it dangerous. Most of the Dragons have difficulty seeing danger in it; I believe the Arkon both knows and understands. But there is more, always, than danger or risk.” She smiled brightly, which was at odds with the obsidian of her eyes. As Kaylin looked at her face, the eyes adjusted. Of course. Tara could hear every stray thought that escaped Kaylin’s mind.

Annarion said, “Can you teach us to be quiet?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think I can teach you to be so quiet that a Tower can’t hear your voice. I’m sorry,” she added. “Until Lord Nightshade has completed his accommodations with his Tower, it is not safe for you to visit. Or rather, it is not safe for your brother. You cannot hurt the Tower. You can, however, demand its attention.”

“Am I demanding yours?”

“Yes. But I am not uncomfortable paying attention to you.”

“And if you were?”

“You would not be in the Tower.” She exhaled. “Come with me. No,” she added, as Kaylin moved to follow. “Not you. What we discuss will either bore or upset you.” Teela, notably, had not moved an inch. Tara transferred her attention to the Barrani Hawk anyway. “I understand all the reasons why it is not comfortable for you to be here, but if Mandoran and Annarion intend to remain in the city, it is best that you either allow them to stay here, or bring them here frequently.”

Tiamaris cleared his throat. Loudly.

Tara, however, merely tilted her head. “It is within the purview of my responsibilities,” she told him firmly. “If they are not here, they cannot be in the fiefs at all. But I suspect that the city itself is not safe. They will not harm the citizens of the city,” she added, as Kaylin opened her mouth to protest. “But the things that hear them will be drawn to their cries. They are like lost children.”

Still.

“Not all those that are drawn to them will mean them harm, but harm is the outcome that is most likely to occur. The elemental water attempted to remove Mandoran.”

“...Yes.”

“Did she attempt to destroy him?”

“I don’t know.” It had certainly looked that way to Kaylin. “She didn’t feel that Mandoran belonged in the Keeper’s Garden.”

“No. But neither do you or Lord Teela. Mandoran was as much a guest as any of the rest of you. His voice, however, and perhaps some part of him, exists in spaces which none of the rest of you can easily touch at will, if at all. No, not you,” she added, as the small dragon elongated its neck, lifting its chin and glaring. “You understand the spaces you occupy and you are courteous when you enter them; nor do you enter without permission.”

Since he hadn’t exactly asked to be allowed through the doors, Kaylin thought this inaccurate.

“They must learn how to ask that permission; failing that, they must learn not to occupy or enter spaces that are forbidden them. Because they are unaware of the spaces they occupy outside of the world they now see, they invade spaces which were never meant for Barrani. Or mortals. I will teach them as much as I can, for your sake.”

“The obligation,” Annarion said, “would be ours, not Lord Kaylin’s.”

“Actually,” she said, as she offered both men an arm, “it wouldn’t. It’s my chance to discharge an obligation of my own—to Lord Kaylin. My Lord says that obligation is fraught and onerous and should be discharged at the first available opportunity. You, however, may both feel obligated to Kaylin.”

* * *

This left Teela, Bellusdeo, Tiamaris, and Kaylin standing in a large hall. Tiamaris relaxed, although this was only evident by the color of his eyes; he couldn’t exactly remove the Dragon armor without causing a different kind of problem. “If half of what Tara suspects is accurate, I do not envy you,” he told Teela.

“You probably never did; Dragons aren’t notably given to envy.”

“You are, of course, mistaken. What will you do?”

Kaylin found the question confusing. Teela didn’t, but judging by her eye color, she didn’t appreciate it.

“I will, with your permission, continue to visit your Tower.”

“You have it; I don’t think Tara would be content, otherwise. She likes to help.” He glanced at Kaylin. “She is not the only one.”

“No.” Teela relaxed. “I understand why you like her. I can’t, I admit, see why she serves you, but love has always been almost inexplicable when it involves other people.”

It wasn’t
exactly
an insult. To Kaylin’s surprise, given the gravity of Teela’s tone, Tiamaris’s eyes shaded into gold. “I no better understand it than you,” he replied. “But I am more than content, An’Teela.”

“I envy you. Having acquired a long dreamed-of goal, I find it unexpectedly dire.” But she smiled as she said it. “It is good to know that not all dreams are so fraught when they become reality.”

“Oh, even these have been fraught. For one, there is far more to lose,” he replied. His eyes were still gold.

* * *

With the apparent change in atmosphere, Maggaron felt it safe to approach them. At a distance, he looked like a young, earnest man. Up close, his size kind of swamped the sweetness of that expression. He wasn’t wearing armor, and he wasn’t carrying an obvious weapon—although at his size in this particular city, obvious weapons were probably overkill. Kaylin tried to imagine what it would be like to live in a city built for and populated by the
Norannir;
she failed.

He bowed to her, the bow temporarily bringing them to almost the same height. “Thank you,” he said, as he rose, “for keeping Bellusdeo safe.”

“It wasn’t me,” Kaylin replied. She had a natural aversion to compliments—and a raging aversion to either insults or condescension. “It was this guy.” She indicated the small dragon, who elongated his neck to its full extension, which didn’t bring it much closer to Maggaron’s face.

Maggaron clearly had some difficulty accepting this at face value; the small dragon was the size of a bird—and when he spoke, and he did, he made pretty much the same noises. But Maggaron was well-mannered enough not to snort or disagree. Instead, he changed the subject. “Bellusdeo said you were going to inspect possible new living quarters.”

Kaylin nodded.

“He wants to accompany us,” the Dragon said, poking her Ascendant in the ribs.

Kaylin wasn’t particularly looking forward to rooming with a giant. But his expression reminded her of a foundling’s. She couldn’t bring herself to say no. She
really
missed the days when she’d lived on her own. “No problem,” she said.

Bellusdeo lifted a golden brow in obvious skepticism, but Maggaron couldn’t see it. “Are we actually taking Annarion and Mandoran with us?”

Given that Maggaron was coming, Kaylin thought the tone of her question unfair.

“Absolutely not,” Teela replied, before Kaylin could. “Given Tara’s reaction to the possible location, we’d be courting disaster.”

“Given what’s occurred so far when they’re left to their own devices?” Bellusdeo replied.

Kaylin was still stuck on the use of the word
we.
At this point, she considered canceling the outing and sneaking to Ashwood on her own. Given Bellusdeo and Teela, she decided against it, but it was close. “Tiamaris?” she said, turning to the Dragon with the suspiciously golden eyes.

“Lord Kaylin?”

Bellusdeo snickered.

“Can I borrow a mirror that has access to the rest of the world?”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“...And then, Teela invited
herself
along. I swear, we’re going to outnumber the entire neighborhood at the end of this!”

Severn was, post work, toweling his hair dry while he listened to Kaylin rant. “So, let me get this straight,” he said, draping the towel across his shoulders. “You’re going to one of the posher districts, off-duty, with a Barrani, a
Norannir,
and a Dragon for company.”

“With
three
Barrani.”

“Put in a brief word with Jared.” Jared was the Caitlin of the Swords. He was rounder than the Hawks’ office denmother, and about a foot taller; he had a voice like sandpaper, the disposition of a friendly version of the Arkon, and the patience of a saint. “If the Swords get complaints about your small group, he can handle them without sending Swords to investigate. Trust me.”