“Teela’s my friend,” she said. “She’s Barrani. She’s part of the Hawks. She’s...mine.” And even saying it out loud, she thought:I’m an idiot. She didn’t own Teela. She didn’t own the Halls of Law. She didn’t own any Hawk but herself. “She has history with the cohort. They all know her True Name. I don’t. And I’m never going to. And I know she worries about me. I know she cares about me.”
“She loves you, dear.”
Kaylin couldn’t bring herself to saythatout loud. “But.”
“But?”
“She trusted them so completely she gave them her name. Her True Name. For Barrani, that’s closer than family. That’s closer than friends. That’s closer than anything. I mean—I don’t think Barrani parents tell their own children their True Names.
“I’m afraid of losing her. She’s known them forcenturies. She’s known me for seven years. Almost eight. It’s a huge part of my life, but to her? To them? It’s nothing. And when she—when she disappears like that, when she...disincorporates... I’m afraid part of her won’t come back, because they’ve always been so important to her. I’m just a newcomer.”
“Do you believe that?”
“Believe what? It’s a fact, Helen. Facts exist all on their own.”
“Yes, they do. It’s a fact that they know her True Name. It’s a fact that they’ve been an important part of her life since they first came together. And it’s a fact that their absence was as large a part of her life as their presence was. But when they were shut up in Hallionne Alsanis, she wasn’t there. She couldn’t hear them and couldn’t reach them. They’ve spent less physical time with her than you have. If you can believe that they’re that important—and yes, I won’t argue it—on the strength of so little time, believe that you are as important.”
“She doesn’t trust me the same way.”
“Perhaps not. But, Kaylin?”
“What?”
“Neither do you.”
The fact that Barrani didn’t need sleep was driven home by the dining room first thing in the morning—or Kaylin’s version of morning. Sleep had proved elusive, even in the face of exhaustion; Kaylin had had hangovers that still felt more cheery and energetic.
The whole of the cohort was arrayed in the dining room when she reached it; papers were spread, admittedly in tidier piles, before them. Tain was reading, Teela was reading and Bellusdeo was reading. Even Maggaron had joined them, but Bellusdeo’s companion appeared to be concentrating on food, not Imperial words.
Kaylin had no hope of reading and absorbing all of Diarmat’s report. She focused on the section involving Sedarias’s line—Mellarionne—and its various allies and enemies. That, and the High Lord’s alliances. Mellarionne did not support the High Lord, but had made a kind of peace with the Lord of the West March. She glanced at the Solanace details. Clearly Dragons considered the lineage important; all of the information about Coravalle was in the Solanace briefing. Coravalle supported both the High Lord and his brother, but that support might be imperiled if Annarion took—and passed—the Test of Name.
Annarion had not surrendered the family name. In theory, if he had the power, he could lay claim to the lands of Solanace, which were now entirely under the banner of Coravalle. He had not been declared outcaste—an oversight. He’d been presumed irrelevant, as good as dead.
She could imagine the pressure placed on the High Lord; the High Lord could not forbid Annarion the test unless Annarion were declared outcaste. If Annarion could be made outcaste, that was the thin edge of the wedge; all of the cohort was likely to follow, except perhaps Eddorian, whose vastly diminished brother remained in the West March.
The cohort, on the other hand, would absorb—were absorbing as food appeared—everything Diarmat had offered to Kaylin. And it seemed that Bellusdeo would, as well, although her absorption of written High Barrani came with greater effort. Thus, the advantage of not needing sleep, although Dragons used the wordsleepin an entirely different way.
But at least this morning the cohort seemed to be calmer. There were blue eyes among the bunch—but even those had a hint of green in them. Whatever they’d decided, the task of absorbing and evaluating all of the third-party information had become their priority.
“Is the Consort’s dinner today?” Mandoran asked. Sedarias glared at him.
Yes, Ynpharion replied.
“Helen, can you do something about our clothing?” Sedarias glared at her sleeve.
“Of course. But...prior experience suggests that you may be required to leave me at very short notice.”
“Can you visually alter more practical clothing?”
“It is harder than creating clothing the normal way,” was Helen’s doubtful reply. “But I will do what I can. I think, perhaps, the creation of jewelry and accessories might add a touch of the class you desire; their absence in an emergency will not be as dire. It is also likely that the Consort will not be convinced by simple illusion.”
“I was hoping for more complex illusion,” Sedarias admitted. “We can possibly create clothing of our own—”
“That will not be necessary,” Kaylin’s house said before Sedarias could finish. “To do so would be to alter what is effectively your skin.”
“It’s worked for my people for the entirety of their existence,” Bellusdeo said cheerfully. Bellusdeo was smiling, golden-eyed, but she had said those words deliberately. It wasn’t a challenge, but it was a way of causing a knee-jerk revulsion in Barrani accustomed to thinking of Dragons as the enemy. What Dragons did, they would not do.
She glanced at Mandoran, and reconsidered. What Dragons did,mostof them wouldn’t do.
