“I brought mine.”
Kaylin only had one dress that Helen considered good enough for important guests.
“All guests are important, dear,” Helen said.
“Fine. For people who can fire me or turn me to ash. Better?”
“Only slightly. But yes. I think you could use a bath and some time to prepare yourself to greet your guests. That is what Teela and her friends will be doing.”
Kaylin found the heat of the bath soothing. Also, the privacy. Teela didn’t join her because Teela had her own bath. Kaylin’s personal rooms didn’t contain a bath like this; it wouldn’t have fit, for one. To reach the room, Kaylin had to enter the joint hall. Helen had offered, more than once, to redesign Kaylin’s rooms, but the alternative—something that resembled rooms to be found in the Halls of Law—didn’t please her, either. Kaylin therefore had creaky floors of plain, if somewhat worn, wood.
Small and squawky sat on top of Kaylin’s damp hair. He had been so quiet during the day Kaylin had almost forgotten he was there. “He has been watching,” Helen said, voice grave. “He understands the shape of the spaces both Annarion and Mandoran occupy; he understands how those shapes distend or break when they’re upset. But the rest of Teela’s friends are relative strangers, and he does not have the same experience with them. Before you ask, Annarion and Mandoran are not the same; there are subtle differences between the ways they enter spaces that other Barrani cannot.
“He is also somewhat concerned about Terrano. If the rest of the cohort loses control and...spreads?”
Squawk.
“Spreads, Terrano doesn’t. He can be emotional; he can be upset. But he doesn’t cross boundaries that exist for the others. He chooses which side of the boundary he wants to stand on. He has more control of his form and its dissolution; he has more control of his appearance in the less visible planes. I’m surprised he stays. But he has not breached my borders. He does not sneak out and return.”
“He couldn’t.”
“Actually, I believe he could. He is a danger, but... I do not consider him a threat. I can hear some of what he’s thinking, but I am also certain that I cannot hear most of it. What I hear, he chooses to share. No, that’s not quite right. What I hear is what he considers speech; what I do not hear is what he considers thought. I cannot hear the latter unless he chooses to share it.”
Squawk.
“Teela can keep her thoughts to herself; so can Lord Nightshade, unless he is too angry.”
“And the rest of the cohort?”
“Mandoran doesn’t try. Annarion tries only when it concerns his family—but his brother’s visits destroy those attempts each time. But the others? Yes, they try. I’m not at all offended; I’m not at all concerned. They do not know me. Mandoran and Annarion have reason to trust me, and the cohort knows those reasons—but knowing that someone is trustworthy is merely one step in the building of a relationship of any kind.”
Kaylin’s hands had now become pleasantly wrinkled in that waterlogged way they did when she’d been sitting far too long in a bath. She rose, water dripping down her body; the familiar rose with her, but avoided the toweling that implied vigorous drying was about to start.
“I don’t understand why Terrano can’t hear the rest of the cohort.”
“He doesn’t have a name anymore. The word that was given him, the word that allowed him to wake, to come to life, is no longer at his core.”
“But he didn’t need that in the Hallionne, did he?”
“I would argue—and this would be a guess, not a statement of practical fact—that they all lacked names. If you recall, you told me you had to give them back their names, and they had to take them, in order to leave the green the way their ancient kin have always left it.”
“Alsanis kept their names. Maybe because they were trapped there, they still had some connection to them. I gave them back the names I found within Alsanis. That’s it.”
Kaylin, drier, donned a robe and headed back to her own room and the white dress that was no doubt waiting there. And shoes.
“But... I don’t have a True Name, and I can hear the people whose names I do hold.”
“You do have a name, Kaylin.”
“I don’t have a name that’s essential or necessary. I was alive just fine without it.”
“I believe that it helps.”
Kaylin frowned. “I didn’t take a name for Severn. Severn can hear me.”
Helen nodded. It was not in any way helpful or informative.
“Please just tell me what you’re thinking.”
