She felt very little resistance; Edelonne was staring at the Consort. Averen was staring at a spot on the wall just to the left of the Consort, his face free of the taint of expression. He might have been carved of stone, with perfect paint on top.
Friction, resistance and anger melted slowly as the force of the question brushed them to the side.
We were to stop you here, and hold you here—or kill you here, should it become necessary.Again her eyes flickered to the Consort, her gaze fluttering away as if even the sight was painful.
Who gave you the orders?
This time, the resistance was stronger, the struggle to maintain silence more visceral. Kaylin could sense the fear rolling off her in waves, tangible enough to drown in.
I’m sorry, Kaylin told her, meaning it.But we don’t have time for this.
Edelonne fought. Kaylin took a step back before locking her knees, tensing her legs, bracing herself for physical impact. It was necessary. She couldn’t remember Ynpharion fighting like this—but her memory wasn’t immortal; he probably had.
The fear grew sharper, stronger; she felt it expand in her own thoughts, her own mind, until she was almost paralyzed by it.
Kaylin.Sharp voice. Nightshade’s voice. Her name was all of the warning he offered—and all of the warning necessary. The fear was not her fear.
Not yet, Nightshade said softly. His voice was a hum, a vibration; it spoke of safety. The safety, in the end, of being owned, of being a prized possession. Like a beloved infant, held in the arms of a Leontine mother.
But she was not a child anymore. She was a Hawk, a lord of this stupid Court, and Chosen. She thanked him, wordless, for the offer of comfort, understanding exactly what that comfort entailed. He could make the decisions. He could tell her what sheshouldbe doing. He offered superior knowledge. Certainty.
She shook herself. He didn’t have that, either. None of the people here did. She was momentarily angry at the cohort. Had Annarion chosen to wait—even a few months—they’d be in a better position.
No,Edelonne said.You wouldn’t. None of them—none ofus—would. You don’t understand what’s happening, even now, beneath your feet. You have a chance, she continued, the internal voice rising, the volume once again almost overwhelming.You can turn around. You can flee. There might be safety for you.
I can’t. I can’t leave the Consort. I can’t abandon my friends.
Shock at the wordfriendsstilled the terror that was rebuilding itself. Edelonne was afraid.
“They’re coming with us,” she said out loud.
Teela’s eyes became narrowed slits as she swiveled to glance at Kaylin.
“There’s something happening.”
“You think?” was the sarcasm-inflected Elantran response.
“I mean—there’s something happening right now.”
Teela didn’t bother putting sarcasm into words again; it wasn’t necessary. “Can they tell you what?”
Words did not come from Edelonne; images did. Kaylin could see nothing for one long beat, although her eyes were open. When she did, it was a night-scape made of a Shadow that had devoured all but a red, red light; that light beat, like a grotesque heart, illuminating something that Kaylin had no name for.
“I don’t think they have a name for it, either, and if they did, I wouldn’t let them speak it out loud.”
“Does it own them?”
“Own them?”
“Are they name-bound?”
“I—I’m not sure.”
The expression on Teela’s face implied Averen’s wasn’t the only neck at risk.“Ask.”
“I believe,” the Consort said in a much friendlier tone, not that that was hard at the moment, “that Lord Kaylin will be coming to Court more often in the near future. She requires rudimentary lessons in some of the basics of her current situation, and while the Dragon Court is overseeing etiquette, the Barrani Court may as well do our part.”
The soft tones of her voice, the mild criticism and the gentle condescension grounded Kaylin. It gave her the momentary illusion that someone was in command.
