More silence. Kaylin could feel the sudden absence of Ynpharion, and whispered a mentalcowardat his retreating presence.
“And that situation?” The Consort’s High Barrani had developed an almost martial edge.
“We both appear to be guests of the Hallionne Orbaranne at the moment.” Kaylin resented having to say this out loud, since the Consort bloody well knew where Kaylin was. But...that was politics all over: a bunch of powerful people saying, diplomatically, what everyone at the table already knew. And then acting surprised. It seemed like a huge waste of time, and it didn’t seem to serve any functional purpose.
“Lord Bellusdeo...is a guest in the Hallionne.”
“Yes. She arrived with me. I apologize for not attempting to get the necessary permissions from the two courts; it was considered an emergency by the elemental water. The water did not confer with us; nor did she ask our permission. According to the Keeper, she was...agitated. He was right. She was agitated enough to pick us up in the Keeper’s Garden and drop us here.”
Another silence, this one less extended. “And the nature of that emergency?”
Kaylin wanted toscream. “It appears that compatriots of two of my personal guests chose to travel from the Hallionne Alsanis to the Hallionne Orbaranne. Something occurred while they were in transit, and they have been lost.”
Silence. So much silence, all of it weighted, all of it harsh.
“Lirienne,” the Consort said, and there was a definite edge in the name, “is this true?”
“I myself have only just been informed of the rumor,” he replied, his voice much softer and smoother than the Consort’s. “And I have not yet been able to ascertain the truth of it.”
“And you will do so?”
“I—”
“As the Consort requests,” the High Lord said. “If her voice is not yet enough, brother, let me add mine. I will not command you; the West March is, of course, yours, and I have seldom interfered in its politics; it has not historically been wise.” And Kaylin knew that he referred, subtly, to a previous High Lord and his interference with theregalia, in the heart of the green.
That interference had almost destroyed twelve Barrani children; they had survived through the intervention of Hallionne Alsanis. From any other man, this comment might have seemed or felt self-deprecating, but not even Kaylin was that naive. She could hear the fire and the ice that gave those words shape, and she knew they were not offered to the younger brother; they were aimed.
The Lord of the West March bowed his head. “You have not spoken at length with the Hallionne Alsanis, brother. I have. Where we rejoiced in the salvation of the eleven, we also understood that they were no longer completely as we are. We were, however, content to allow them to remain as guests; Alsanis himself insisted on it. His attachment to them has grown with the passage of time. We did not expect that they would attempt to leave so soon. The Hallionne is not cognizant of all of their abilities.”
“Annarion and Mandoran came with me when I went back,” Kaylin pointed out. Bellusdeo nudged her. Coming from a Dragon, it was a gentle, subtle gesture—but Kaylin wasn’t a Dragon; her ribs would probably be bruised.
“Yes, Lord Kaylin. And shortly after their arrival, the High Halls came under attack—and the attackers were ancient, dangerous. Were it not for the Dragons, the Halls might have fallen there.” Lirienne’s voice was dry, almost uninflected. But there was subtle accusation in the words, and it was aimed at people she now considered friends.
“Annarion and Mandoran didn’t attack the High Halls!”
“No; had they, we would not be having this conversation. But Alsanis felt that it was possible—perhaps probable—that their very presence woke the ancestors.”
Since this was more or less fact, Kaylin bit back further words until she once again had control over what fell out of her mouth. “The Emperor’s hoard is the empire.”
“Indeed.”
“He has not demanded their destruction; he has not made them criminal. They live in my house—”
“Your house is not a normal mortal dwelling; it is not even a normal Barrani dwelling.”
“Lirienne,” the Consort said, indicating that his conversation with Kaylin could wait. “I wish no harm to come to them. They were ill used once, or they would not now be as they are; they were abandoned by their kin. Were it not for the Chosen, their names would be lost to us forever.”
“They intended to travel to Elantra. To the High Halls.”
“Yes,” the Consort replied. The High Lord glanced at her, but did not speak.
“They intend to take the tower’s Test. They intend to—”
“Stand where we are now standing. Yes.”
“You knew this.”
“What other reason would they have for returning? I did not know, but I suspected.”
