“I can see the Towers,” Bellusdeo said quietly. “And we’re going to have a small problem, if I judge your intent correctly.”
“What problem?”
“Look at the Towers.”
Kaylin felt herself wilt as she obeyed. Shecouldsee the Towers. Terrano had been right: they were visible. But none of them looked like the Towers with which she was familiar. They were built around Ravellon, but seemed, to her eye, to stand at the very edge of that fief’s boundaries. And they were absolutely identical.
“Does it matter which Tower?” Terrano asked.
“Yes. There’s only one that isn’t likely to immediately destroy us all, or make the attempt to do so.”
“So...this was your plan?”
“I was kind of short on time.”
The cohort were speaking among themselves. Sedarias turned toward Kaylin. “The Shadows are moving.”
“I can see that.” Kaylin glanced at Bellusdeo; the Dragon’s eyes were blood red.
“You mean to approach Tiamaris.”
“Tara, yes. I think there’s a good chance she’ll let us in through the back door. If we can find it.”
“Castle Nightshade?” Bellusdeo asked.
“Will devour us whole. All of us. Without blinking. Nightshade can control the Tower, but I wouldn’t put it beyond his damn castle to kill us in an eye blink, which would be about the time it would take Nightshade to assert control. His Tower really doesn’t like Annarion, and I’m guessing by extension all the rest of the cohort as well.”
You underestimate me, Nightshade said, clearly unamused.
“We’d rather avoid it, if we can,” Sedarias told Kaylin. “We...know what Annarion encountered.”
* * *
Kaylin cursed her lack of affinity with geography. Loudly. Often. There was very little in Records about Ravellon, and both the streets and buildings that made up Ravellon were known to physically change when people entered the fief.
There were seven Towers.
The most obvious landmark, the Ablayne river, was nowhere in sight. In fact, none of the streets beyond Ravellon were visible; nothing marked the location of the city she called home. Which made sense. In no way could they have reached Elantra from the West March by foot in so short a time. They couldn’t have done it on horseback, either; Kaylin was less certain about riding Dragon-back, because Dragons couldmove. Regardless, Bellusdeo couldn’t transport the entire cohort simultaneously.
Bellusdeo scanned the horizon, in part because there was somethingtoscan, and in part because of what that something was. She had lived in Ravellon, albeit as a sword in the hand of an enslaved Maggaron.
“You are thinking too loudly,” the gold Dragon said.
“Do you recognize anything?”
“Yes. And no. Ravellon changes from moment to moment. There’s no certain sense of geography.”
“Do you remember much about it?” This question, Kaylin asked in a much more hesitant tone. She didn’t like to pry into the past—and the past pain—of others, because she hated it when people pried into hers. She wanted the past to be irrelevant. She wanted the present and the future to be the only things that mattered. And of course, that was impossible. Even now, the past defined so much of her life. But...if that past had brought her to this point—well, to the point of serving the Halls of Law, to be precise—it was the right past. It had led here.
Lord Kaylin.
Go away.
Ynpharion was frustrated. He was also afraid.
She’s not going to blame you for this. This is not on you.
There is a danger.
