“She wasn’t exactly apariah, but she was only accepted because her father was a very powerful man. Only those who were certain to survive crossing him made demands of her. You’ve always said the Barrani are arrogant.”
“When they’re breathing, yes.”
“Well, there were a lot of people who felt certain they’d survive. Time moves slowly for Immortals. But it does move. Teela hasn’t been considered an abomination or a subhuman liability for centuries.”
“...And if the cohort arrives in force...”
“She’s too stubborn to abandon us, and we’re too stubborn to push her out.”
Since they knew each other’s True Names, Kaylin doubted that was even possible, but said nothing.
“You are not being fair,” Helen told him. She often spoke to Mandoran as if he were not quite out of childhood. “That is a natural part of her concern, of course, but you are not presenting it well.” To Kaylin, in the face of Teela’s silence, she said, “Teela is considering the political costs because she intends to preserve her cohort.”
“I think we’re capable of preserving ourselves.”
“Yes. So, too, is Lord Nightshade. Teela, however, does not desire that you all be made outcaste. As outcastes, you would naturally be denied the Tower—and the High Halls. As outcastes, no Barrani would be required to lift a finger should outsiders, such as the Dragon Court, be called upon to end your existence. If, over the next few centuries, you prove yourselves to be considerable powers, you will be, as Nightshade is, grudgingly accepted. But the cost of waging that war could be profound.
“And of course, if you are made outcaste, there’s a possibility that Teela will join you. It is not a guarantee. If she was willing to publicly disavow you, she would, given her history in the Court, be excluded from your fate.”
Kaylin had a few thoughts then. Some of them could even be said in public—as long as public involved the Hawks, which was where she had learned most of the ruder words. “Someone has already made the motion.”
Mandoran’s smile, as he lifted his head, was bitter. “How did you guess?”
“Relatives of Annarion’s?”
“And the already outcaste Nightshade, yes.”
“When?”
Mandoran shrugged. “Does it matter?” He made a face at Teela. “She was going to find out anyway.” Teela clearly made her reply in the silence of their name bond; Mandoran couldn’t be bothered. “She’s aLordof the High Court, Teela. She has access to the Consort. She’sseenthe Lake of Life. She’s considered the Consort’s emergency replacement. If she wanted to, she could find this out by taking a walk in the Consort’s garden!”
Teela relented. “Yes,ifshe wanted. How much of Kaylin’s desire strikes you as political? It wouldn’t occur to her to ask. She’s accepted at Court because she is so firmly outside of the power structure she does nothing to shake it. Start down this road, and she won’t even last the few measly decades allotted her.
“The rest of ushaveforever. Wecanwait. Kaylin has forty or fiftyyears.” Teela stood, her eyes a shade that wasn’t quite blue but was definitely as far from green as it could get. “I’m not asking for any of you to put your lives on hold indefinitely. I’maskingthat youwait. A handful of decades isn’t going to change your lives.”
Mandoran glared at Teela. Clearly he’d heard it all before.
“You understand,” Kaylin began, but Teela lifted a hand.
“I understand everything in exhaustive detail. I have had enough notice to form a skeletal defense against the worst of the politics.”
“Sedarias thinks you’d be more successful getting information than Teela has been,” Mandoran told Kaylin. “Because of your position as emergency mother to the Barrani.”
There was a flash of blinding light that made the dining room vanish because Kaylin hadn’t had time to close her eyes.
“Corporal,” Helen said, in a more steely voice.
Teela immediately said, “My apologies, Helen. The spell was not materially harmful.”
“No, I understand that. I know Barrani don’t require sleep, but in my long experience, they require some moments of privacy and peace. Come. I have rooms waiting for you.”
Teela’s shoulder’s sagged. “Affection,” she told Kaylin’s house, “is a curse and a terrible, terrible weakness.”
“So thought the people who built me,” Helen replied serenely. “I do not believe they were correct.”
“No?”
“There are reasons I am less than fully functional. I chose to destroy some parts of myself to preserve the parts I value. It was painful, and there are lingering regrets on the bad days. On the good days, I am grateful that I was sentient enough to be able to make that choice. Come,” she said again.
