I am not the master here. Neither, he added, in case it wasn’t obvious to someone as ignorant as Kaylin,are you.
Yes, but I think I know why she’s willing to take the risk on the cohort. I think I know what she wants to achieve from all of this. It’s not about politics—it’s about the names.
It is too much of a risk.
Me talking? Or what she hopes the cohortmightachieve?
Both. An’Teela will be angry, and An’Teela is—and has been for centuries—a force to be reckoned with. Only desultory attempts have been made against her life in the past hundred of your years. If you do as the Lady has requested, An’Teela will not be angry with you—she will be furious with the Lady. And that, too, is a risk.
What would you do if you were me?
A brief flit ofsuicidecame and went. To Kaylin’s surprise, Ynpharion was trying to be polite.I would do as the Lady requested, he finally said.But I would do it because the Lady requested it of me. I would do it, even were I not name-bound—and, Lord Kaylin, although I do not wish to add pressure to any decision you make, there is probably a reason that her two attendants are Lords of the Court.
Is he also like you are? Is he name-bound?
Ynpharion did not answer, not directly.Do not give me your pity.This was icier than any of his prior words.Do you not understand the honor of my position? I will serve as the Lady desires. I will be of use to her. If I die in pursuit of that, my death will have meaning.
But Ynpharion was bound to Kaylin because he had, like many Barrani, attempted to divest himself of the shackles of having a True Name. Somehow. Kaylin wasn’t clear on what he had attempted, and wasn’t clear how it was sold to him, how it was supposed to work. He had certainly been able to voluntarily alter his form, because he hadn’t looked anything like a Barrani when they’d crossed paths.
My life had no meaning, he said.It had no meaning. There was power, and the pursuit of power; there was a certainty of my own insignificance because I had achieved no power of note. My service would not have been offered, because I was too lowborn, too insignificant. To approach the Lady would have been impossible in any but a ceremonial, perfunctory way.
She’s not like that.
She is part of the High Court, arguably second only to the High Lord. She behaves differently, yes—but she has the comfort and security of her position in which to push boundaries of behavior. Most of us do not—and will not—have that. And that is not the point. Were she to command me, I would do what she desires. She has not done so, yet. Were I you? I would do what she desires.
But, Chosen,he continued,I am not you.Were I to do what she asks of you, I would not earn the anger of An’Teela. And if you do what the Consort requests, the Lady will earn that anger. I do not believe An’Teela will hold disobedience against you. She seems almost to expect it.
So...you would do what the Consort wants?
I would, were I you. But were I you, I would have the same concerns as the Consort, and in this, I do not. The names of the lost are the names of the weak; they are those who were easily influenced, and therefore easily corrupted. Such names, such people, weaken the race, and the Shadows loom above us all as a threat that can even be the bridge to end wars.
Kaylin’s smidgen of sympathy for Ynpharion guttered instantly.
We cannot afford that weakness, Ynpharion continued.Ask your friend, the Dragon. Ask what the cost of that weakness was.
So. You think it’s too much of a risk, but you would do it, anyway.
Silence.
Severn said nothing, loudly. No other voices were present, and Kaylin did not want to reach out to Nightshade to ask.
What the Consort wanted, Kaylin wanted: to open the gates of the hell in which the ghosts of the dead remained trapped for eternity. To free them. They might not want it for the same reason—but Kaylin knew that both the High Lord and the Consort could hear the wails of the damned in the private quarters above the shadowed cavern in which their enemy lay, and had lain for centuries, feeding on the Barrani.
It had almost killed her to hear it once.
She understood what Ynpharion was afraid of. She understood that Teela was also afraid of it; thought that Bellusdeo might, if push came to shove, agree with Ynpharion, a thought that pleased neither her nor the Barrani in question.
She rose.
Teela’s expression hardened, but Kaylin shook her head, both mutinously and apologetically. “I’m not a real member of the High Court,” she told the Barrani Hawk. “I understand why you don’t want it to be me who does this. But someone is going to do it tonight, and... I believe what the Consort believes.”
“No one is going to do this tonight if you don’t,” Teela said in Elantran.
And the Consort—also in Elantran—said, “There is a reason that I have only two guards with me today. Lord Kaylin is correct. If she won’t or can’t, one of my personal guards will step forward to do so. What I want is what Kaylin wants—but I don’t believe we have a hope of success if the cohort doesn’t understand what they might face.”
“I can talk about it,” Kaylin continued, her voice soft and even pleading. “It doesn’t matter to me if I’m tossed out of the High Court—I’m a figurehead member with no standing. I get nothing out of it but humiliation at the office. It’s not going to make or break my life or my future.”
“You cannot know that,” Teela said softly. She glanced at Tain. Tain saidnothing. “Kitling—”
