“A curious question. Why do you ask it?”
“Is that a yes or a no?”
“It is, Private Neya, both a yes and a no. They are not devoured by it; they are often, however, claimed by it.”
“The Shadows we’ve seen used have no will of their own to make such claims.”
“No. It is my belief—and I offer it as a sign of my good faith in the discretion of the Hawks—that where the infusion of Shadow is small, it is very like fire or air: summon it, and it has no notable will. You might light candles or torches, and the effort would be similar to the nonmagical attempts to do the same. The fire does not fight you, except in the act of summoning; you must have an understanding of what you call.”
Since this had been the question that Kaylin had been trying very hard not to ask of the people who might have some knowledge, she fell silent for a long beat. “And if you summon a lot of it?”
“It is my belief—and again, this has not been tested—that it is very like fire. The summoner must have, and must retain, control. In the case of the immortal, it is a small Test of Name, each time. But in the case of the mortals, it is an act of pure will.”
“Do you think there’s any possibility that the bracelet itself is somehow a repository for contained Shadow?”
“That would be the question, yes. It is considered the primary source of legitimacy for thepraevolo. I believe that your sergeant has donned it?” Kaylin failed to answer, which was a yes, and Evarrim understood it as such. “She has not, I assume, been consumed by it.”
“No.”
“She is rumored to have been gravely injured in the actions surrounding the defense of the High Halls.”
Kaylin nodded.
“She is also rumored to have flown, very recently, in spite of those injuries.” His smile was slender.
“You’re in contact with the Arcanist.”
“Yes, Kaylin, I am. We are not friends—that is far too much a stretch of the word—but I have, oddly enough, been tasked by the High Lord with minor surveillance of certain branches of mortal study. The Barrani have their reasons for disdaining research into the nature of, and the utility of, Shadow. As a Lord of the High Court, you must know what those reasons are.”
Kaylin nodded.
“I have seen no evidence, however, that the research that was being conducted was more dangerous, or more insidiously dangerous, than prior research into different disciplines.”
“What happened to those who put the bracelet on?”
“They died.” At a small inhalation from the Consort, Evarrim surrendered his side of the game. “The Shadow that inhabited them did not seem to have will in the way fire does when it burns. It had a similar effect: it destroyed them, reducing them to the pools with which you are familiar. But it did not, in that act of destruction, appear to consider taking them over or remaking them in a different image.”
“Our Shadow does.”
“Yes.”
“Which implies something.”
“Yes. Our Shadow—the Shadow beneath the High Halls, the Shadow that attempts, on a daily basis, to escape Ravellon, will transform anything it inhabits, turning it into a tool that follows only the will of Shadow. But this Shadow did not.”
“You saw this personally?”
“I am unwilling to incriminate myself further, given Imperial Law.”
“Suicide isn’t illegal,” Kaylin replied, but she felt the slow clench of the pit of her stomach. “I assume there were volunteers.”
“Yes, actually. Those who believed they were strong enough to deserve the power ofpraevolo, without the wings, were given permission to don it. Permission, not commands. You may choose to disbelieve me if that is more comfortable.”
“It really isn’t.”
He shook his head, and Kaylin saw a reflection of herI will never understand Barraniexpression written clearly across his face. She tried, for a moment, to think as Evarrim did—or as she believed he did. “What were they promised?”
“That, I cannot tell you. It is possible they were offered power, or the possibility of power.”
