I’m sure he’ll move once you arrive.
Severn was “fine,” for a value of fine that included an obvious, bleeding gash that had cut through thick cloth and thin leather, and left red on the edges of the openings. There was a similar gash across his left cheek. Teela wasfine, and as there were no immediate, obvious, gushing wounds, that was as clear a warning to keep away as Teela was going to give. Severn’s description was wrong. Teela was bristling. Her eyes seemed to pulse with light.
That isKariannos, Nightshade said, the interior voice conveying a hush.It has been long since I have seen An’Teela take to the fields of battle. She was a wonder to behold in times past.
She wasn’t a wonder to behold now; she was like a natural disaster. Nightshade found this amusing. Ynpharion did not. But the latter was far more impressed; he could not find words to give voice to the momentary awe he felt. Ynpharion, Kaylin remembered, was young in comparison to Nightshade or Teela. Young enough to miss the wars at their most intense.
She found Dragons terrifying when they were in their draconic form, but her fear of the Barrani had always been more down to earth. She wondered if that would change today.
“Spike,” Teela said, “is in the way.”
“An’Teela.” The Consort’s voice was steady and chilly.
Teela turned to face the Consort, naked blade in one hand. “Lady.” If the Consort’s voice was chilly, Teela’s was sepulchral. Kaylin took a step back.
This did not improve the color of the Consort’s eyes. “The quarters are mine. And even if they have been compromised—and it appears they have—the permissions to enter reside with the High Lord or me. You were—and are—one of the finest lords the High Court has ever produced, but you are not High Lord, and you are not Consort.” The only sound in the room was the Consort’s voice; everyone else had pretty much stopped breathing for the duration.
Teela did not put her sword up, but after a frigid pause, her expression shifted. Kaylin bit her lip to stop any trace of amusement from touching her face, because she was certain Sedarias was talking.
Teela nodded. She didn’t bow, but given her rigidity, bowing would have caused her to break something. The Consort then turned to Kaylin.
“Lord Kaylin,” she said, her eyes still martial blue, “please have Spike remove himself from the doorway.”
Spike caused cracks in the stone as he retracted the protrusions that had given him his name. He left significant holes behind as he compressed the bulk of his body into something small enough he could fit between Kaylin and the nearest wall.
Severn fell in beside Ynpharion, of all people; Teela took the lead. The doorway, such as it was, opened into a hall with much shorter ceilings and no windows to speak of. There were torches; the torches flickered, suggesting that some sort of natural fire, rather than magic, provided the light here. The fog which had killed visibility was gone, and Spike had dwindled in size. He didn’t return to her hand—he wouldn’t have fit—but floated to the left as Hope took up position on her right.
The Consort walked behind Severn and in front of Kaylin, her white robes luminescent in a way that suggested they carried their own light within the threads of the cloth that comprised them. Although none of her escorts had eyes in the backs of their heads, they stopped when the Consort stopped. The subtle movement of her robes stilled as she turned to look to her right. In theory, she examined a wall.
Kaylin felt her skin burn as the Consort spoke a single word. It was not a word Kaylin recognized, but because she instinctively felt she should, she knew it was a True Word. The marks on her skin seemed to pulse in time to the syllables; the word wasn’t short. But the tingling that warned of magic didn’t normally happen when True Words were spoken, not this way.
“Door?” she asked when no one else spoke.
“Yes,” the Consort replied. “And no.”
Kaylin wilted. “Portal.”
Teela stiffened. It wasn’t thestop whining or I will strangle youstiffness, either. “The cohort,” she said, as if she weren’t one of them, “have started the Tower’s test. They are no longer together.” Her words were so stiff you could bounce off them.
“We have time, then,” the Consort said. She reached out, looking almost hesitant, and placed her left palm flat against the wall. Color spilled out from beneath her hand, spreading slowly and lazily to cover the whole of the wall. Kaylin had enough warning to step directly behind the Consort to offer physical support as the Consort’s legs began to tremble.
“No,” Teela said. “The Tower’s test appears to be broken.”
“The Tower’s test is different for everyone. Or it can be,” Kaylin added, a question causing the last syllables to rise.
“Not in this fashion. What they hear now, they shouldn’t hear.” Teela had never spoken of her own test. None of them—with the exception of Kaylin—had. They had danced around the very end of that test. Kaylin frowned. “Is it possible,” she asked the Consort, “to get lost on thewayto the Adversary?”
“I do not know. I would have said no, but the cohort is capable of turning almost any carefully devised plan on its head. Is that what is happening?”
“Possibly.” Teela exhaled, and some of the stiffness escaped her along with that long breath. “Terrano was having some difficulty.”
“Terrano should not have been there.”
“You’ve never tried to say no to Sedarias,” was Teela’s grim reply. “If Terrano was forbidden the Tower, Lord Kaylin should have been forbidden the Tower for the same reason.”
“She bears the marks of the Chosen.”
“Yes. But Lord Severn did not, and does not.” She turned to Kaylin. “It’s possible that Severn was allowed to undergo that test because he was with you—if I understand your journey, you weren’t separated during the test.”
