“Hope?”
“There are more of your Ferals present ahead. The one who escaped you was not the last one standing.”
“That’s not what’s upsetting Spike.”
“No, Chosen. But those Ferals, should they continue in this vein, will not be Ferals much longer; they will become other. They are unlike the cohort; they will become other, but they will take their instructions—their shape, theirpower—from the knowledge of your Adversary.
“It is possible that An’Mellarionne and his lieges believe they will be in control. It is possible that they will be allowed to remain untransformed. But the people enspelled as your new name-bound is enspelled will not.”
“It’s worse than that. Spike’sreallyupset.”
“He is.”
Kaylin reached out and attempted to grab Spike, which was probably the stupidest thing she had done all day. He spun in a way that almost cost her half a hand, and she flinched. She also bled—but it was a small cut, given the size of what were no longer spikes. Blades, she thought. She couldalmostsense eyes beneath the perfect, black chitin of what passed for his skin in this particular shape.
And this shape was not his only shape.
“Lord Kaylin.” The Consort’s voice was sharper, the syllables a snap of biting sound.
“He’s—The Ferals that stopped us are somehowattachedto the Adversary. And there are more of them.”
“Your current name-bound?” Edelonne flinched.
“She’s no longer attached. Whatever inroads the Adversary had to her are gone.”
“How many more?”
Thirteen, Edelonne said.There were thirteen of us.
“Eleven more. Thirteen to start.”
Evarrim cursed, or at least that’s what Kaylin thought he was doing. The cursing followed the rest of his unintelligible words. Oh. Magic. His eyes were already as dark as Barrani eyes could get.
“What?” she demanded, her voice much sharper, much harsher, than the Consort’s.
Evarrim didn’t pretend to misunderstand, and didn’t ignore her, either, which was his preference. He usually waited until the Consort asked—or demanded that he answer. “There are three summoning rituals that might require a larger number of people,” he finally said. “I have seen them used only during natural disasters, and one was a failure.
“Alone, our power is individual—our talents, our skills, individual, as well. We cannot summon more of a force than we can control; it is suicide.”
Kaylin nodded.
“Together, we can. But it requires synchronicity and focus, and it is not guaranteed to succeed. If the containment breaks...” He fell silent.
Kaylin was still for one long moment. “People die.”
“Yes. But not immediately, not all at once. If the elemental summoned wishes to exist on the plane for its own purposes—and itwillhave a purpose at that size—it cannot kill everyone immediately; the summoner is the door or the window through which entry is possible. Or rather, the summoner’s power is. But the summoner has no control over what has been summoned.”
“You think they’re summoning Shadow, somehow.”
It was Edelonne who answered. “Yes, Lord Kaylin. They are attempting to do what Lord Evarrim has suggested. A small amount of Shadow is almost inert; it is obedient, just as fire or water. A larger summoning is more difficult. The experiments they have conducted strongly imply that Shadow is a hidden element, a fifth element.”
“How do they summon itat all?”
“My apologies, Lord Kaylin. I was not trained in the Arcane arts. I was considered to have no potential at all in that regard.” The sudden rush of humility didn’t suit Barrani at all, even this one. Kaylin transferred her question, silently, to Evarrim, who couldn’t claim the same ignorance.
His glare might have been his entire reply, but the Consort nodded at him in the regal way which meantAnswer her now.
“It may surprise you to know that I do not have an answer to that question. If Shadow has a name—as fire does—I am unaware of it, and if you have any small knowledge of summoning, you understand that the name of the thing summoned isnecessary.”
