“The matrix of possible choices is almost paralyzing,” he replied. “And the ramifications of each possible decision extend before me for eternity. I am...hesitant.” His expression rippled as his brows drew together, as if pulled that way by the force of strong emotion. “I have desired, greatly, the freedom to choose. I had not understood the fear inherent in choice.
“But I am in discussion with theforceress, and they tell me that not all choices cause this confusion.”
“With the what?”
“Ah, apologies, Chosen. With the Tower. They tell me that minor decisions do not cause the same difficulty, and have invited me to...eat.” He frowned again. “I have made clear that even acceptance of such an invitation requires me to spend time that I might otherwise use to engage in different activities.”
“Everything takes time.”
“Yes.”
“But you have forever, right?”
There was a longer pause, after which he said, “I have forever just as the Barrani have forever. But very few of those firstborn still walk this world. We are not immune to harm, not immune to destruction. Before now, it was not my own survival that was my chief concern; it could not be. Nor was it the survival of my environment. I did not choose; the choices were made for me.
“Now... I understand why some seek to divest themselves of choice. It is...unsettling.”
“Be careful what you wish for?”
He failed to hear the question mark at the end of that sentence.
“Yes,” he said, voice grave. “Care is required. But... I believe I shall speak with theforceressat length. I will not harm you. I will not harm the Lady’s many children.”
“Are we to take your word for it?” someone asked. Evarrim, of course. But as it wasn’t a stupid question in any way, shape or form, Kaylin didn’t resent it. It was the question she expected to hear—a lot—about her own decision at the end.
Death was safest. For the Barrani. For the city. It was not what he had chosen, and even had it been, it wasn’t what she had chosen. She knew it was a risk. A bigger gamble than the Hawklord had taken seven years ago in the Halls of Law. If the gamble didn’t pay off, the cost would be measured in lives—probably hundreds of lives. Or thousands. And those would fall on her shoulders.
He will not kill, Spike said.
“You can’t know that.”
He has said he will not kill.
“Look, Spike—”
You do not understand the nature of your kind, or his. You feel he has lied for the entirety of his captivity.
“Because, demonstrably, he has.”
No, Chosen. That is the nature ofchoice. It is not his lies that caused death, but your own. What you chose to hear. What you chose to believe. What you chose to uphold and what you cast away. There is always an element of truth—it is belief and adherence that gives that element weight, or weightlessness.
He says he will not harm either you or the Barrani. He will not harm them. But you understand—you must—that they cannot be prevented from harming themselves.
“Because that’s the nature of choice. Consequences.”
Spike thought this obvious enough that he didn’t answer.
The Tower, inaudible to Kaylin, and she suspected almost everyone else in the room, spoke to the man—or at least that’s what Kaylin assumed. He turned to Terrano. “Theforceresshas invited you to join us, if that is your desire.”
Chapter 31
Terrano accepted. Or vanished. Kaylin suspected the former, but couldn’t be certain. He’d come back for the cohort because they were, in every way but blood and name, his family. The family that he’d chosen, centuries ago, and possibly—given Barrani—the only family he trusted.
He could no longer hear their voices. He could no longer bespeak them. But... Barrani had excellent memory, and he could remember every one of those many, many years. He had been apart from them for so little time in comparison, but that time had changed him.
The cohort had lost no one. Sedarias surprised Kaylin; she allowed Kaylin to heal Allaron and Valliant. She did not allow Kaylin to touch her, but her wounds were largely superficial. It wasn’t a matter of trust. Well, no, itwas, but she did allow Kaylin to examine the injuries before summarily rejecting any aid on her own behalf.
Allaron was the most severely injured, and Kaylin was already tired. Allaron, however, had no qualms about allowing Kaylin to heal him—even if that exposed the entirety of his thoughts, or as much of it as Kaylin couldn’t avoid touching in the blend of power and two people who that power momentarily made one.
