“No. But you saw him wield the sword in an attempt to catch—and possibly kill—the Dragon outcaste. Had that encounter proceeded, you would have. And yes,” Teela added, voice softer, “it is very likely he has chosen to be reckless in his use of his sword.”
“He would not be the first today.”
“We did not have the time,” Teela countered as she glanced in the Consort’s direction. “They know we are coming. Ah, no, they expected that there would be some intervention. It is my guess that they expected the form of that intervention to be Nightshade’s, not ours—the pathway here has been diverted, but it has not been destroyed.”
Hope turned to the Consort. “Spike asks us to wait. Lord Nightshade’s work on the exterior has yielded results favorable to a safe arrival.”
A shudder of flashing light, blue and white and searing, caused Kaylin to raise both arms instinctively to shield her eyes and face.
Teela cursed, the Leontine low and guttural.
Chapter 21
There was a moment of silence accompanied by a lot of blinking before Hope said, “Now. Lady, it is safe to leave.”
“Will it remain safe?”
“I believe so.” He glanced at Kaylin.
Nightshade?
Silence.
Nightshade!
Severn shouldered Hope out of the way and caught her in one arm—the hand of which still gripped the blade of his very unusual weapon.
“I can’t—I can’t hear him! His voice is gone!”
Teela cursed in Aerian. “You would have to say that out loud,” she said with some heat. At Kaylin’s expression, she added, “Yes, I can keep my cohort out—butnotwhen I’m desperately trying to track them and hold all of the threads of their current locations in my head!”
And Annarion was going to lose it.
“Just...breathe, damn it. Breathe. And do not do anything stupid. Is he dead?”
“I don’t know—I can’thear him.”
Teela exhaled. So did the Consort. “If he were dead, you would know. There would be no question. I understand the panic,” she added in a somewhat less heated tone. “It’s the same panic we felt when the rest of us suddenly fell silent in the West March. But you would know—as we would have known—if that was the silence of death.”
“You were all pretty certain that if it wasn’t, it would be soon,” Kaylin pointed out.
“Inasmuch as Barrani have family ties similar to yours—yours personally,” Teela said, clarifying the statement, “the cohort are ours. Of course we were worried—and of course that worry would drive us to action. Nightshade’s attachment to his only surviving brother is almost a matter of legend; this much would be all but expected of him.”
“Did Annarion expect it?”
Teela winced. “No. He is trying to skip out of his qualifying exam now, and while we’ve pointed out that the fastest—and safest—way to reach his brother is topass the test, he is not certain he has either that time or inclination.”
“This isn’t a normal exam. He can’t just walk out in the middle of it and tell the proctors he’ll be back later!”
“He is less concerned with completion of this test than he is with his brother’s survival. And were you more cautious, he would not be presented with this difficulty. He is willing—barely—to focus on the test at hand because you are with us and you have access to his brother that he does not.”
Kaylin opened her mouth and Hope laid a hand on her shoulder. “We must exit,” he said quietly. “Spike is uncertain how long stability will last; if our enemies are desperate there is a possibility that they could destroy the portal—which would leave us somewhat stranded.”
Kaylin stepped out of the portal’s exit free from the horrible nausea that usually accompanied such a transition. Her legs were not shaking; her knees were not weak. She might have walked through an open door into another room. The floor beneath her feet was solid stone. She had expected the uneven rock of a large cavern. This was clearly worked stone—smooth and flat.
Her arms ached as her skin reacted to the presence of magic; the marks on her arms were glowing, as they had been since she had approached the High Seat. But the glow was gentle and luminous. On someone else, it would have looked good. Hope did not immediately shift into his portable form; he continued to resemble the ideal of an Aerian. This was not a good sign.
“Is this where we were supposed to be?” Kaylin asked the Consort.
