Cast in Honor (The Chronicles of Elantra) (10 page)

And yet, clearly, Moran had her reasons.

The door to the basement opened before Kaylin could touch it, but at this point, such things didn’t spook her. She wasn’t looking forward to dealing with angry, blue-eyed Teela, and that was dread enough.

“She isn’t angry,” Helen said.

“Fine. Scared or worried Teela. In case it’s not obvious, that’s worse.”

“She should be worried. I am worried myself. Annarion can be contained; he is struggling to control impulses of which he is only barely aware. If he decides that they are no longer a concern—or a primary concern—I do not think I can keep him here without harming him.

“And no, Kaylin, quite aside from your own concerns, that is
not
what I wish. He knows the debt he owes you and the people of your city. Teela has made that
quite
clear.”

“But that wasn’t his fault—”

“Fault? Perhaps not. But he cannot claim ignorance a second time. It is only the terrible sense of guilt at what transpired that has kept him here these three weeks. He has worked without stop. But he cannot completely contain his fear.”

Fear for Nightshade.

* * *

Teela was blue-eyed and stiff as a board; absent was the usual sense of grace that even motionless Barrani naturally exuded.

To Kaylin’s eyes, Annarion was not in anything resembling a jail cell. He was sitting in the middle of the room—a Barrani room, by the look of the furnishings—his eyes the same color as Teela’s. Mandoran was beside him, arms folded, shoulders slumped. There was a window in the far wall. The view outside it looked very quiet and very peaceful.

It was the only thing in the room that was the latter.

Kaylin took a chair, because there just happened to be one that suited her. Whether it had existed in the seconds before she opened the door, she didn’t know, and it didn’t really matter. “Teela told you about our morning.” Teela’s glare drilled the side of her face, but Kaylin continued, “I still can’t reach your brother. I can’t hear him. But I don’t think he’s dead.”

“On what are you basing that assumption?” Annarion asked.

“Instinct.” She had a clear idea how much he valued mortal instinct, but he was better behaved than Mandoran and kept his thoughts to himself. “Did Teela also tell you about our visit to the Keeper?”

Mandoran lifted a dark brow. “No.”

“And you didn’t notice we were there?”

“Teela’s pretty good at keeping things to herself. What were you doing at the Keeper’s?”

“Asking him about Gilbert,” she replied. “Sort of. And possibly listening to his take on gaining entry to ancient ruins, some of which might be malevolent.”

They both glanced at Teela.

Mandoran rolled his eyes and glared at the Barrani Hawk. Clearly another conversation was unfolding between the two Barrani, courtesy of their exchanged True Names. Mandoran confirmed this. “I don’t understand
why
Teela considers it such a bad idea to give you my name. I’m not insisting anyone
else
do it. But this style of speech is slow and inexact, and your verbal explanations leave a lot to be desired.”

“She probably considers it a bad idea because I’m terrible at filtering. If I had your name, you’d probably know everything I was thinking the moment I thought it.”

“And that’s bad how?”

“For
me
, it would be bad.”

Mandoran glared at Teela again. Teela was probably glaring at Kaylin. Something invisible squawked. Kaylin recognized the voice instantly, but couldn’t actually see where it was coming from.

“Teela, where
is
small and squawky?”

Annarion tensed; Mandoran rolled his eyes. Mandoran was easily the most human Barrani Kaylin had ever met. Clearly, this had its pros and cons. “He’s sitting about a foot above the table, chewing on his wing tips.”

Squawk
.

“You
honestly
can’t see him?”

“Kaylin,” Teela interjected, “is one of the worst liars you will ever meet.”

“I didn’t always suck at lying.”

“You probably didn’t speak as much, then. If she says she can’t see him, she can’t see him. I don’t see why it’s so difficult to believe; I can’t see him, either.”

“You can hear him, though,” Mandoran pointed out.

“The entire house can probably hear him.” Teela rose. “Is he trying to prove a point?”

It was Kaylin who answered. “Probably.”

“Which?”

“In general? I’m mortal and therefore incompetent. It’s the same point most of my friends try to prove when they’re on a tear. If he’s not uncomfortable where he is, he can stay there for a bit.” Kaylin folded her arms. “Helen says you’ve learned a lot in the past three weeks.”

“That’s not what she’s been telling us.”

“I believe she was talking about Annarion.”

Annarion’s lips twitched.

“How much control do you think you have?” Kaylin directed her question to Nightshade’s guilt-ridden younger brother.

“If I was certain I had enough, do you think I would still be here?”

“Fair enough. How uncertain are you?”

“I constantly feel like I have enough control. Helen, however, does not agree. In this case, I have chosen to trust Helen’s judgment over both my own and my need for haste and movement.”

Squawk. SQUAWK.

“It appears,” Helen’s disembodied voice said, “that Hope considers me overly cautious. If you are willing to accept his company, he believes he understands the difficulty now.”

“And he didn’t before?”

“Apparently not, dear.

“I’m not certain I consider that wise,” Helen then said, to the very noisy thin air.

The small dragon appeared to be telling her just how much her opinion counted. Had the small creature been on Kaylin’s shoulders, she would have attempted to cover his mouth. Annarion rose, walked over to where Kaylin sat and knelt before her. It made Kaylin incredibly uncomfortable.

“Your familiar believes he can counter the worst of the...noise...I make if he remains in his current form.”

Kaylin nodded. “Look, can you get up? This is kind of ridiculous.”

Annarion ignored her request. She looked to Teela for help. Teela shrugged. It was a stiff shrug; her lips were thin, her eyes narrowed.

“The familiar cannot provide the dampening effect if he is not in his current form.”

“The invisible one?”

Squawk.

Kaylin said, “No, wait, let me guess. He isn’t actually invisible. He’s just invisible to anyone who naturally lives in the mortal world.”

Teela cleared her throat.

“You know what I meant.”

“Yes. And I still take exception to it. You are, however, correct. I can see what Mandoran and Annarion see—but it takes a great deal of effort and it gives me an almost instant headache. Our eyes were not meant to see the familiar as he exists now. If it’s any consolation, without shifting out of the state he occupies, he can’t cause actual harm—to us, anyway.”

“Can he bite the other two?”

“They seem to feel so.”

“If you want my permission,” Kaylin told Annarion, “it’s yours. You have it.”

Annarion clearly wasn’t begging for her permission to take the small dragon. “Your familiar cannot remain anchored to the plane—as Mandoran and I are—in this form. Not if you’re not with him.”

Which explained Teela’s expression.

“He is willing to accompany me—”

“Us,” Mandoran interjected.

“...Us. But to do so, you must also accompany us.” He swallowed. “You have no reason to trust my brother, and little reason to love him. He has sacrificed much. But he is the only living member of my family that I acknowledge.”

Kaylin almost asked him if he had unacknowledged family members who were still alive, but decided against it. “You want me to go with you.”

He swallowed. Kneeling there in supplication, he looked much younger than he normally did. “Yes. I understand the debt it will incur.”

“Please don’t say that.”

He lifted his head. His lips, his eyes, the whole of his expression, were adorned with visceral pride.

“I know exactly how the Barrani feel about debts.” When this failed to achieve the intended enlightenment, she added, “They hate them. I’d just as soon not have you in my debt, because, your brother aside, I actually
like
you.” She exhaled. “Nightshade’s fief almost destroyed my life. Some of the decisions he’s made in the past—” She stopped. After a long pause, which no one filled, she continued, “But he’s saved my life, as well. I never intended to let you go to the fiefs alone.”

He bowed his head.

“But does this mean small and squawky—”

Squawk.

“—will be invisible the entire time?”

“Invisible to you,” Mandoran muttered, which caused another round of squawking.

“Yes, I believe so,” Annarion replied.

She turned to look at the empty space that wasn’t, in theory, empty. “You’re going to have to make less noise when we’re outside,” she told her familiar. “Most of the time, people think you’re cute or valuable. You don’t want them to think they’re crazy.”

Squawk.

She glanced at Teela, who had said a very loud nothing for almost the entire conversation. “Tain and Severn are upstairs with Moran.”

“Just what we need.” Teela glanced at Kaylin. “Don’t think that you’re going to Nightshade—or anywhere else—without me.”

“Teela—”

“I mean it. I will break your left leg if you attempt to leave me behind. Anything that you can survive, I can survive.”

Mandoran cleared his throat, opened his mouth and snapped it shut again. For a moment, Kaylin reconsidered the value of knowing Mandoran’s True Name.

“He is pointing out that you are Chosen,” Annarion said as he rose.

“I bet she’s pointing out that I don’t even understand what that means.”

“Yes. Though much more colorfully.”

“You can’t stop her from coming with us,” Kaylin added more quietly. “Because she doesn’t want me to go. She’s still pissed off that your brother marked my face.”

“Yes. Very. I am not terribly happy about that myself. But...”

“But it doesn’t seem to have altered my life?”

“It doesn’t seem—and I do not know your life well—to have damaged your life, no. The mark is used to denote ownership, and it can be used to enforce it. It does not have the strength of a name—but it doesn’t require it. Had you been of equivalent power, he could not have placed that mark upon you without your explicit consent. You did not consent, yet you are marked.”

“He hasn’t used it against me. But I know his name.”

Teela coughed.

Mandoran made a face at her.

“That is not generally common knowledge,” Annarion finally said.

“I know—but everyone in this room already knows it.”

“Everyone in this room also knows that I have sex,” Teela cut in. “But no one needs to
hear
about it.”

Mandoran lifted a hand. “Actually, I would—”

Annarion said, “I would
not
. Helen?”

“Yes,” Helen’s disembodied voice replied.

“I’m ready to resume our lessons. I apologize for my frustration.”

“Very well. Kaylin, dear, you will have to see to our guests.”

* * *

Kaylin and Teela returned to the dining room; Mandoran and Annarion remained below. Teela was not exactly green-eyed by the time they’d reached the kitchen.

“You don’t want me to go.”

“I don’t want
either
of you to go. I am not the only one,” she added. “Sedarias is distinctly cool to the idea. She’s been arguing against it. I can’t understand all of what’s being said—and yes, before you ask, I find that frustrating. Mandoran is neutral. He doesn’t think it’s wise, but wisdom is not something he prizes. He will not, however, remain behind.”

“And the others?”

“Varying degrees of neutrality. We hold each other’s names, but we have never used that knowledge to attempt to dominate. I’m not certain their names could be used that way now. What will you do with Moran?”

“If she’ll stay, I’ll keep her. I’m not you—I’ll whine at her if she tries to say no. But I can’t force her.”

“Good. She is not like me in most ways, but she
is
like me in a few notable ones. I would be quite annoyed if you whined at me, but at the same time, unoffended. You whine a lot.”

“Thanks, Teela.” She squared her shoulders as they reached the dining room. To Kaylin’s relief, Moran was still there. So was the food. It said something about her that the relief at seeing each was about equal.

Squawk
.

Chapter 9

“Can you give me a few days to think it over?” Moran asked while Kaylin ate.

“I can try.” At Moran’s expression, Kaylin said, “What? No one else is ever going to use those specific rooms. They’re yours. I said I would try.”

“Which is like saying no.” Moran’s frown was a familiar sight. “There’s some chance that certain elements of Aerian society won’t appreciate your offer or my decision.”

“That’s going to be entirely their problem.”

“When we’re here. But at the Halls, in the Aerie...” She trailed off, then asked, “Have you spoken with Lord Grammayre about this?”

“No. I’m not offering the Hawklord a temporary place to stay.”

“You’re not the only one who will be censured.”

Kaylin froze and then set her fork down. “They’ll—whoever they are—take things out on the
Hawklord
?”

“They will express their legitimate concerns, yes.” She smiled; it added no joy to her face. “Grammayre is an old friend. He is not a family friend. I joined the Hawks when he offered me the position; the offer came at a time when things were in a dangerous state of flux for me.

“He received no thanks at all for it, of course. Being a Hawk is not an occupation that was ever considered suitable for me.”

“This isn’t changing my mind any,” Kaylin pointed out.

Moran’s smile deepened. “I loved the rooms. I know you were a bit shocked to see them; to you they must look like—like—”

“Living in the wild, yes. But without the bugs.”

“I feel as if I have returned, in part, to my youth. And some part of me wants to commit this extra act of defiance. Living in the infirmary already makes that point. Living with a mortal would...exacerbate it. I do not wish to use you in that fashion.”

“And if that were the only consideration, I would never have offered, Moran. I’m
happy
to be part of that.”

“You don’t even know what it is.”

“I think I understand enough. I’m the type of undesirable you should never have made friends with—I mean, if you consider me a friend—”

Moran chuckled. “A bit late for that, don’t you think? Yes. You are right. But the Hawklord is also considered unworthy. Clint. Mellian. Not a single one of the Aerians who have given their lives in defense of this grounded city would have been considered worthy. And I? I am worthy only by an accident of birth. I am—I have remained—a part of my flight, but I am, like my grandmother before me, an outsider. Do you know why I accepted the Hawklord’s offer?”

Kaylin shook her head. She had known almost nothing of Moran’s life until now. No, that was wrong. She had known Moran as a sergeant and the ruler of the infirmary. She had been Moran’s patient; she had seen Marcus and many of her colleagues treated by her, as well. She glanced at Moran’s injured wings. Moran had flown when the Hawks had flown. Moran had been in the sky with the Dragons.

The Hawks could not hope to face—and fight—what the Dragons fought. They couldn’t expect that they would all survive it. Kaylin knew what she had done in her youth in the name of survival; she would never have been among the Aerians, the Hawks, the Swords. She would have been as far from the fight as her legs could carry her. Farther.

The Hawks had known.

They had carried the chains and netting necessary for the Arkon’s complicated defenses. They had made themselves targets as the enemy shot down anything in the sky. When one fell, another took up both their duty and their burden.

Moran had been there.

“I accepted the Hawklord’s offer because I wanted the opportunity to
do
something with my life. Something that affected others. Something that I could respect. I didn’t start out in the infirmary,” she added. “And I had my share of run-ins with Marcus, in my time.”

“How did you end up in the infirmary?”

“The infirmary was contemptibly run. It was both inefficient and, in my opinion, dangerously unorganized. Why does that amuse you?”

Kaylin shook her head. It was the first time since crossing Helen’s threshold that Moran had sounded like herself again; she couldn’t help but smile.

“It was work. It was work that I had never before seen or done. I didn’t...fit in, immediately. The Aerians were not particularly kind.”

“And they survived it?”

Moran laughed then. “They weren’t
wrong
, Kaylin. I wanted to be of use, but I had no real idea how to interact with people. I expected to be treated with the respect due my flight. I didn’t
think
this consciously,” she added, “but it’s true. I expected the others to treat me as I had always been treated by those outside my flight.

“They didn’t. I was a
private
. Many of them were corporals. They expected
me
to treat
them
with obsequious respect because they outranked me.” She shook her head. “I’m not at all sure you would have offered me shelter during my first two years with the Halls.

“Most of the Hawks expected me to quit. They expected that I would flounce out of the office, wings rigid. But I’d fought so hard to be allowed the right to join the Halls of Law that it would have been humiliating. I was,” she added, still smiling, “torn between two different humiliations. Being humiliated by strangers was the less terrifying of the two. So I stayed.

“It was six months before the Aerian Hawks would talk much to me, but the force is comprised of more than the Aerians. Caitlin took me under her wing. You’ll have some experience with that. I didn’t expect the rest of the mortals—or the Barrani—to treat me any differently, which is probably why they were comfortable with me. The rest of the Hawks eventually understood that I was in it for the long haul and that—birth aside—I could do my job.

“They stopped seeing the spots on my wings. So, for the most part, did I. It was very liberating. My injuries,” she said, voice dropping, “reminded them. Reminded all of us. I am expected to quit the force. Reparations have been demanded from the Hawklord.”

“Good luck with that.”

“They’ve been demanded through the
Emperor
; the castelord has spoken with him personally.”

“And he’s not a pile of feathered ash?”

Moran’s smile was grim. “The castelord and the Dragon Emperor both understand when a polite and perfectly civil request is a demand or a threat. The actual words are almost irrelevant, since neither will use open insults.

“I have not endorsed these demands. Nor have I tendered my resignation. The Hawklord has not relieved me of my duties. If I return home with the intent to continue to serve the Halls of Law, I will be forced to arrive at the Halls on my own.”

“But you can’t fly.”

“No. The Aerian Hawks have offered to aid me—but if I accept that offer, they will suffer. Not in the Halls, of course. But they don’t live in the Halls. They live in the Southern Reach.”

“So you chose to stay in the infirmary.”

“Yes. It’s my last act of defiance.” She exhaled. “Understand that if I stay here, I am Moran while I’m under this roof. I am only a sergeant while I’m in the Halls of Law.”

Kaylin nodded.

Teela, however, snorted. “Kaylin has never been particularly good at remembering to follow correct form. Don’t expect her to change; it’ll only lead to disappointment.”

“Sergeant Kassan has never set a good example for her.”

“Not really, no. I admit the Barrani have been somewhat lax about rank differentiation, as well. Kitling, don’t make that face.”

The face in question was not her usual grimace, though. “I really,
really
want you to stay here.”

“Did you not just say you would give me a few days to think it over?”

“No. I said I could
try
. You’re going to leave, aren’t you? You’re planning to go back to the infirmary. Could you at least stay here for the night? You’re tired, you’ve just eaten and we
have
the room.”

“Is she always like this?” Moran asked Helen.

“I believe you already know the answer,” Helen replied. She was smiling. “Farther into your suite of rooms, you will find warmer water. Your wings are stiff.”

Moran exhaled. “Yes, Kaylin. I will stay for tonight.”

“Good.” Kaylin did not clap her hands, because she was not four years old. But she had to remind herself of this fact. “You’re looking kind of green.” At Teela’s pointed side-eye, she added, “What? She is. I’m not making it up.”

* * *

When Moran left the room, Bellusdeo, who had been silent throughout their exchange, turned to Kaylin. “You don’t intend to enter the fiefs with Annarion, do you?”

“There is
no way
you are going with us,” Kaylin replied. This had been her only lingering fear.

Bellusdeo folded her arms.

“That doesn’t work on me. I have a Leontine regularly threatening to rip out my throat, remember?”

The gold Dragon exhaled smoke.

“...And Helen won’t let you breathe on me, anyway.”

“I try to stay out of personal matters,” Helen told her. “It never ends well when an outsider joins a family argument.”

“We’re not going to war,” Kaylin gamely continued. “We don’t intend to fight Shadow. We’re not going to Ravellon.”

“After what Gilbert said to you, I don’t believe you.”

“The Emperor will have my head.” It was the wrong thing to say, but it was also true. “If I get lost in the Shadows, I’m one Hawk. The future of an entire race is not depending on me. If
you
get lost...”

For a being that could naturally breathe fire, Bellusdeo had a lot of ice in her expression.

“We will keep Kaylin safe,” Annarion said, entering the room. It seemed suspiciously like he’d heard the entire conversation. “The familiar will accompany us to the fiefs. He is more easily capable of living across planes and existing in some form on many of them simultaneously. I wouldn’t ask Kaylin to accompany us, but she is his anchor—and to keep the rest of the city safe, we need him.

“I would not go at all if it were a choice between my brother and the Lady.”

Kaylin was confused for a moment—the mention of the Lady made no sense.

Bellusdeo didn’t have any problem making the connection. “I am not the Lady. I am not the Consort. I am—”

“You represent exactly that to the Emperor and the Dragon Court. Under no circumstance would an attempt to save a Barrani Lord—
any
Barrani Lord—be worth risking your life. Just as it wouldn’t be worth risking the Barrani Consort’s.”

“And it’s worth the danger to Kaylin?”

“She is Chosen,” he replied. “She has responsibilities.”

Kaylin frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Do you think the marks that grant you power exist for no reason?”

“I think they exist because the Ancients decided they should—but they didn’t exactly give me commands or training when they placed them on my skin. They didn’t ask my permission, either.”

This appeared to confuse Annarion, who turned to Helen. “Perhaps I am not using the language correctly?”

“You are using it correctly.”

“Ah. Why does she speak of permission?”

Bellusdeo snorted. “Mortals believe in choice.”

“Even when they have so little of it?” Annarion frowned again. “We do not choose to be born. Do mortals?”

“No.”

“We do not choose the names which will govern our lives.”

“No.”

“We do not choose the families or lines into which we are born; we do not choose the language we speak; we do not choose the talents with which we are born.” He waited for Kaylin’s nod before he continued, “Why, then, does your permission
matter
? You are what you are.”

“Fine. It matters because if they’d had to
ask
permission, they would have had to explain what the responsibilities of the position
actually are
.”

Annarion looked to Teela then. “Have you not explained it?”

Teela actually looked uncomfortable. “...No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I
don’t understand
what you’re talking about when you speak of the Chosen. I can’t understand the words or the images. They make no sense.”

Annarion looked at his feet. After a long, awkward silence, he said, “Kaylin’s used the power of the Chosen multiple times now. It doesn’t matter if she completely understands it—it’s clear that she understands it well enough to use it, if it comes to that.”

Mandoran entered the dining room, as well. “No,” he told everyone, “I am
not
staying behind.” He looked at Kaylin as he spoke.

She held up both hands. “Don’t look at me like that—I wasn’t even going to suggest it.”

“Teela did.”

“Then glare at
Teela
. I don’t even
like
the fiefs. The only one I willingly visit is Tiamaris. Teela has a better chance of survival in the fiefs than I do. She always has.”

“Teela suggested,” Teela said, “that she would stay behind if Mandoran chose to do so.”

Kaylin rolled her eyes. “Like that was ever going to happen. Can we get back to—”

“The important person?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes.” Kaylin exhaled. She did not want to drag Bellusdeo into the fiefs. She didn’t want her anywhere near any fief that wasn’t Tiamaris. She especially didn’t want to have to explain
any
of this to the Emperor.

The Emperor.

What had she said to the Emperor? What was she doing now? Bellusdeo was a
Dragon
. Kaylin, marks all over her body, was
mortal
. She wanted to insist that Bellusdeo stay where it was safe because
why
? Because the Emperor would be mad at her?

Didn’t that mean she was making the same mistake that the Emperor was making? That she was diminishing Bellusdeo because she was afraid? No, it was worse. Kaylin was afraid of the Emperor’s reaction. She wasn’t afraid
for
Bellusdeo.

She looked up and met the gold Dragon’s eyes. “Can we just pretend that everything I’ve said in the last half an hour never left my mouth?”

Bellusdeo smiled. The expression made her look younger. Younger and at the same time, more confident. “I think you’re forgetting immortal memory.”