“You’re not a Barrani Lord.”
Terrano shrugged. “Neither are my friends.”
“No. But they’re descending on my city—or they were—because they’re going to take the Test of Name. If they pass, they’ll be Lords of the High Court.”
Terrano brightened at the thought. As he considered her words, his smile widened; in the end, he was laughing.
The Lord of the West March was not. “Lord Kaylin.” He rose. “I ask that you speak with Terrano about the experiences of Annarion and Mandoran as they intersect with your city. I will retire for the evening.”
* * *
“Everything has changed,” Terrano said. Neither he nor Bellusdeo had eaten much. They retired to what Kaylin assumed was her room, given that Bellusdeo was in the Hallionne as an adjunct. Orbaranne, however, had allowed Terrano to enter as well, not a given in a Hallionne, whose duty was to keep guests safe, usually from each other. He flopped, chest down, across the nearest bed.
“You better not have your boots on,” Kaylin told him.
“Why?”
“Dirt.”
“You don’t have to clean it.”
“And it’s rude.”
“Rude.”
“That’s what I said.”
Bellusdeo took a seat on the lounge chair by the wall, content to let Kaylin and Terrano maneuver for space. Only when they were done—for a value of done that had Terrano take off boots that Kaylin was almost certain were not actually real—did she speak.
“I want you to talk to Lord Nightshade about what happened in his Tower. Don’t make that face,” she added, which was technically hard to say in Barrani. She tried Elantran, and Terrano’s face remained blank. Mandoran and Annarion had picked it up from Teela.
“Why him?” he asked.
“Because I have his name.”
Terrano whistled. “I wouldn’t have thought that was safe. I guess I underestimated you.”
“He gave it to me.”
“...Or severely overestimated him.” Before she could speak, Terrano added, “Look weallknew each other’s names. It’s not about sharing names. It’s about who you share them with.”
“You knew him?”
“No. But we heard alotabout him from Annarion, who practically worshipped him.”
Kaylin grimaced. “Not anymore. And believe that my house would be a much happier place if he did.”
“They argue?”
“They argue in my house, yes.”
“Why?”
“Because arguing in Nightshade’s castle almost destroyed the High Halls.” And before he could ask, she told him what had happened, or as much of it as she could clearly remember.
“Kitling,” Bellusdeo said—a warning. Kaylin understood why. If the Emperor knew—if the Emperor understood—whythe ancestors had attacked the High Halls, killing anyone that stood in their way...Annarion and Mandoran would be in trouble. The empire was his hoard. But there was no way that the Hallionne would speak with the Eternal Emperor. They were safe.
And Terrano needed to understand. He listened, his eyes luminous although they were still obsidian. “They should have left with me,” he finally said.
