“There, for a value of there. I’m attempting to guide them to the Consort, but there’s a notable difficulty.”
“The Barrani summoners?”
“And their guards, yes. The guards are Ferals. If what Spike has said has been correctly conveyed, the biggest threat we face is the Ferals. Can Spike be here if you’re not?”
“He should be able to—”
No.
“Uh, he says no.” To Spike, she said, “We left youbehindin the outlands. You weren’t anywhere near us when we arrived in Elantra.”
I was not anywhere near the Shadow that lurks at the heart of this place, Spike replied.And he will pull, Chosen. He will attempt to compel. We do not have names in the same fashion as the Barrani possess them—but we have words of a kind. Ihavewords of a kind. He will know them all; he will know how to invoke them.
You are the barrier between me and that compulsion.
And given his size, his shape, his knowledge, that barrier—flimsy and mortal as it was—was necessary. “If I leave he’s afraid he’ll fall under the control of the Adversary.”
“Then don’t leave,” Mandoran snapped. “Can you find Terrano?”
Kaylin nodded.
Spike stayed in front of Kaylin; the tendrils of black smoke that sprouted from the massive spikes were in constant motion. They trailed across the ground; they reached for protrusions, when protrusions existed; most of them seemed to come from what passed for ceiling here. The ceiling and the floor were composed of the same material.
So, at the moment, was Terrano. It wasn’t a wonder to Kaylin that Teela and Mandoran hadn’t seen him; she might have missed him herself had she not been looking. He was the color of, the shape of, the pillars that grew up—and down—across the entire landscape.
“He’s here.” As she approached, she frowned. Closer examination revealed nothing; he was theexactshape of the rest of the protrusions. There were no limbs, no face, nothing at all that looked like Terrano. And yet, she was certain that this particular stretched bit of pulsating flesh contained him. No, she thought; it didn’t contain him. ItwasTerrano.
Teela and Mandoran stared at her; they hadn’t stopped, or hadn’t intended to stop. They did because Spike did. Or perhaps because Kaylin did. “If this makes me burst into flames or melt into Shadow, pull me back.”
“What are you doing?” Teela asked, voice as sharp as her sword’s edge.
Kaylin didn’t answer.I don’t knowwouldn’t have cut it; nor wouldI’ll figure it out. Sadly, both were accurate. The marks on her arms had not stopped glowing; she doubted they would before she was clear of the High Halls. But her skin didn’t ache at all. It had until she’d been dragged into Spike’s orbit. As she lifted her left hand—always her left when things were questionable—she realized that the marks had lifted themselves, once again, from her skin; they rotated as if they were awkwardly crafted bracelets. They weren’t large, but they were distinct, each word obviously separate from the others, but linked, as if they were sentences in a familiar language.
Her palm touched the pillar; it felt exactly like it looked: exposed flesh, veins, muscles. Part of a body. If this were a metaphor created somehow to allow her to shift into a different state of being, shevastlypreferred carved, giant words.
But she understood why this particular metaphor was useful, even natural. She drew deep, even breaths to still the sound of her own heart, which appeared to be beating overtime, and as she did, she finally reached Terrano.
You’ve certainly looked better, she told him.
She could feel the movement of flesh beneath her hand. It was disturbing; she’d helped birth babies before, but this was nothing like that. Everything in Terrano was straining to escape.
No, she thought. Not everything.Took you long enough—where were you?
We had a little trouble with some Shadows.She would have told him more, but a large number of Spike’s tendrils emerged, and all of them simultaneously shot toward Terrano.
“We need him!” Kaylin shouted, her hand tightening.
I understand, Chosen. I believe I can convince the Tower to free him, but the responsibility for Terrano will then rest entirely on your shoulders.The faint buzzing that was Spike’s voice sounded Elantran to her ears—except for the last word; she could hear another word, other syllables, laid above it or beneath it, that lent it a resonance it wouldn’t otherwise possess. Her entire body vibrated as the echo of those syllables passed through her.
As Kaylin watched, the thing beneath her hand melted, red sliding away as if it were blood. Not a comforting thought, even if Kaylin had seen her share of bleeding—this much blood was an early indicator of probable death. But there was no wound; she could feel no injury beneath the tense flat of her palms—she’d lifted the right instinctively, laying it beside the left as if both hands would prove more useful than one.
Teela’s breath was a sharp, loud sound; Kaylin opened her eyes. Her hands were now flat against Terrano’s chest. His color was off—but it was a crimson, not the pale usually associated with nausea or pain. He staggered, bracing his weight against Kaylin’s hands as he found his footing.
Which meant, in Terrano’s current form, grew feet. She remembered what Annarion had become in Castle Nightshade; this wasn’t nearly as bad.
“I think the Tower doesn’t want you here,” Kaylin told him.
Terrano shrugged; it was a fief shrug, picked up from Mandoran, not Kaylin. “I was going to cheat,” he confessed. “It’s not like the High Court can tell who’s actually made it all the way down—they only know who comes back out. I intended to take a shortcut, skip the garbage and come back out.”
