And Candallar’s Tower isn’t?
If what you saw was correct, it was not Candallar who entered Ravellon. But Kaylin, be cautious. It is clear, from your first meeting with that fieflord, that he understands Imperial Law. I believe that what he wants is mundane.
And that?
To be repatriated, of course. He is, as I am, outcaste.
There’s something you’re not telling me. I mean, something relevant.A thought occurred to her on the heels of that one.Someone asked you for the same permission they got from Candallar.
Silence.
It’s not the first time you’ve had dealings with people of power in Elantra. It’s not the first time you’ve done favors.
This time the silence was weighted—slightly—with approval.
We’re not done with this, Kaylin told Nightshade, as Winston’s brother arrived. He did not change shape, but he did speak to Winston, his syllables thinner, higher and faster than they usually were.
Understand, Kaylin, that were I to be repatriated, I would notbethe Tower’s lord. I could not, and do what must be done.
Is it because of the Emperor?
No. Lord Tiamaris retains his position in the Dragon Court. But he also retains and enforces the Imperial Laws within his fief. Not one of the rest of us do that. The Tower must have its lord. You have seen the Avatar of my Tower. Unlike the Tower of Tiamaris, it has a will that is ancient and not inclined toward mortals. It only barely accepts me—and I am not without power. There are, of course, those disinclined to have me return to Court. They would likeMeliannosreturned to the line; I have invited them to attempt to retrieve it.
If you came back, Annarion wouldn’t have to take the Test of Name. The cohort wouldn’t have to descend on Elantra. Things would be safer for everyone.
Is that what you believe of my brother?This time, there was both bitterness and amusement in the tone.It is too late, regardless. The cohort, as you call them, are on the move. Even if they retreat now, Alsanis will only be besieged by those who wish to ensure that they do not move in future. Or did you imagine that the attempt came about only because of their decision? The attempt occurrednowbecause of their decision. But it would have occurred, regardless. And Kaylin? Be careful. I cannot reach you. Lirienne cannot reach you; you have left your partner behind.
I have a Dragon, and I’m not afraid to use her.
I am uncertain that a Dragon—even this one—will have much idea of how to deal withthat.
26
Kaylin let Nightshade’s voice fade away; it was hard to listen to any thought that didn’t concern their immediate survival. She had assumed that whatever was chasing Winston’s brother was roughly his brother’s size; she revised that. It wasn’t; it had simply been much farther behind. Because the landscape was what it was, she couldn’t correctly gauge anything about the creature; it seemed, aside from literally eating up the ground, more like an empty space whose clashing colors didn’t hurt her eyes.
Terrano cursed. Loudly. He caught hold of Allaron. “Stick together!” he shouted, as if they needed to be told. Then again, given Allaron’s position—ahead of, and in front of, the main body of the group, at least one of them did.
Winston, however, shook his head, grabbing Terrano’s shoulder. “Let Spike act. Retain your current form.”
“But—”
“The only thing the creature can see is Spike. If Spike is willing to hold its attention, the rest of you can move out of its way.” He glanced at his brother.
“Spike’s not really made for fighting,” Kaylin pointed out.
“Why do you believe this?”
“He’s kind of like portable Records.”
This clearly made no sense to Winston, who glanced at his equally confused brother. In turn, they both looked at Spike. Or at least that’s what she thought they were looking at; they were craning their necks—one attached to the body of a hairless animal—up, and up again.
The familiar squawked, but Kaylin had already turned toward Spike. She understood why the two brothers were now gazing upward. Spike—at least seen through the familiar’s wing—was no longer all that small, nor was he particularly self-contained.
He was taller than most of the buildings in Elantra, and he didn’t appear to be slowing down. Everything around him, including the ground beneath his feet, was now a uniform gray, which is what she’d first seen. In the absence of color, she could almost make out a form. It was not particularly pleasant; it was like Shadow—flexible, shifting and decidedly not mortal. Nor was it draconic, although something that trailed around its back implied the presence of wings.
And when it spoke—and it did—its voice sounded like a swarm of locusts, except gigantic and not particularly focused on agriculture.
“He’s angry,” Winston said, almost conversationally. He turned to Terrano and added, “Stay in that form, and follow us.”
