Evarrim’s expression made clear that he didn’t believe her. Probably because he thought she could do nothing on her own. “Given the legends about familiars, I find that difficult to believe.”
“I don’t care what you believe.”
“Perhaps, were your familiar to be in the hands of someone who is competent—”
“Lord Evarrim,” the Consort said. He shut up. “An’Teela. Lord Severn.”
They began to move.
What does she want me to do with Edelonne?
Given your reaction to Averen’s death, she is unwilling to execute her.
You did the same thing she did, Kaylin said, trying not to bristle.And you’re now one of the Consort’s personal guard. She can’t assume that Edelonne will immediately stab us all in the back.
Shecanassume it; she does not hold Edelonne’s name. Iofferedmine, he continued with a trace of almost desperate pride.She understands what occurred. She understands, in future, what might occur. She knows that I do not and will not fight her—
Except when she tells you not to scream at me?
I was not screaming. Regardless, she does not have that certainty with Edelonne, and she will not have it. The only certainty—and I use that word advisedly—that she does have is her trust in your intentions. But you are squeamish.
Fine. I’m weak. Ask what she wants me to do with Edelonne.
She is relatively confident that Edelonne will be incapable of harming any of us, even you.When Kaylin failed to reply, he added,She leaves the decision, in its entirety, in your hands; she is aware that we must nowmove.
Kaylin turned to Edelonne, who was still a huddled mass on the floor of the stone hall.Edelonne, we need to move.
Edelonne did not agree.
“Lady,” Kaylin said.
The Consort looked at Edelonne, just as Kaylin had done, and said, “You may rise.” Kaylin, in theory, had power over Edelonne that the Consort didn’t have—but theory had always been fuzzy. Could she have made Edelonne stand? Probably. But not without effort and pain on both their parts.
The Consort’s permission dissolved her resistance, and Edelonne rose.
“Lady,” she said, voice low, words a thin sheen of control over panic, “it is not safe for you to be here.”
The Consort did not reply, and Edelonne paled, which should have been impossible, given her already chalky color.
The Consort called Severn back. Without a word from her, Evarrim took his place by Teela’s side. Kaylin would have vastly preferred that Severn continue to play point here, but she understood the Consort’s decision; Evarrim was part of the Arcanum. He had spent most of his life within its confines, and if he didn’t break Imperial Law in the course of his studies—which Kaylin thought impossible—he understood more about those particular illegal things.
She was not surprised when her arms—already tingling on the edge of pain—began to burn. They weren’t the only things that felt like they were on fire. Evarrim was casting a spell. Kaylin recognized it; it was not the first time she had seen him summon.
Fire came at his call. She could almost hear its name; it was not a small elemental.
The Consort’s eyes were blue with a hint of reflected orange. “Lord Evarrim,” she began.
His response was a grunt, followed by, “Lord Kaylin is present.”
The elemental was almost the width of the hall; Kaylin half expected the ceiling to melt. It didn’t. Neither did the floor beneath its lower edge, which couldn’t be called feet. It turned to Kaylin, although Evarrim had been its summoner, and spoke. The words were a crackle of flame—the noise wood made when it burned and broke.
She could almost see eyes emerge from the heart of flame, and the heart of flame was white.
“I... I’ve talked to the fire in the Keeper’s garden,” Kaylin told the Consort. “Bigger parts of the flame remember it.” She approached the flame. Ynpharion flinched at the heat. Kaylin didn’t. Her power wasn’t the power that was fueling the elemental; that was all on Evarrim’s shoulders. He did not attempt to take control; he passed the brunt of that to Kaylin.
Kaylin held out a hand, and fire touched her palm, traveling up her left arm. Her shirtsleeve was immediately reduced to ash. Her skin was not.
“Ask the fire,” Evarrim said, “to protect you.”
