The Consort’s nod was grave; it wasn’t final. “Arcanists have attempted, for some time, to draw power from Shadow; it was originally intended to weaken the enemy. This does not immediately lead to the enemy beneath the High Halls.”
Kaylin glanced at Spike. “From what Spike said after we freed him—”
“Freed?”
“He was operating under compulsion. I’d imagine it’s very much like what you can do with True Names if you hold them and you have more power.”
Spike whirred. “It is not.”
“What’s the difference?”
“It is complete, Chosen. What those with enough strength can do is retain their memory and sanity; the whole of their being is otherwise some part of the thing that controls them. Your Dragon outcaste is not Shadow by nature; he is flexible in some fashion. He is named, but his name is complex and difficult; some parts of it have been massaged, but the whole has proved resistant to the extreme changes that would otherwise occur. And he has power of his own.”
“You have power.”
“I have a power you do not have, yes. And in the layers between states, that power is greater than yours; you are wed to your world and your physical presence in it. It is both a strength and a weakness. Helen might be able to explain it; I am...learning...but it is difficult to communicate clearly.
“The Shadow that rules exists in the heart ofRavellon, which exists in all spaces. You saw it in what you call the outlands or the portal paths. You see it here. You would see it were you to make the trek to a different world. It is the anchor that binds all things together.”
“But why?”
“Why?”
“Why isRavellonthe anchor that seems to tie everything together? Why do we even need an anchor?”
The question confused Spike, to judge by the noise he emitted. It also confused Helen, or appeared to confuse her.
“It is confusing,” Helen admitted. “Neither Spike nor I fully understand your question. There has always been a point of continuity—perhaps that’s a better word than ‘anchor’—and reality of many kinds have drifted around that center. When you have a stack of papers and an open window, it is likely that the papers will be blown about the room. If those papers were given you by Lord Diarmat, you would wish to prevent that, yes?Ravellonis the spike that is driven through those papers—each in their correct order—that prevents that drift.
“There is, of course, no Lord Diarmat, and perhaps that was an unnecessary part of the analogy. But if those papers, in total, have a meaning, that meaning might be lost or fractured should they be disordered.Ravellonwas considered the heart of all worlds—and peoples of various races and various worlds could overlap there without harm.
“That changed,” Helen continued. “You know this. Shadow gained a foothold inRavellon. We do not know why or how. There are discussions—or were—about the Ancients, the Lords of Law, the Lords of Chaos. We feel that these are inexact terms, at best.”
“They are inexact,” the Arkon said quietly. His expression was strikingly similar, at the moment, to Terrano’s. “We have stories of the beginning of worlds—but those are gleaned from the ancient Keepers in their discussions with the elements they make a home for in their gardens. And many of those distant, unknown worlds were not unknown toRavellon. I do not believe any worlds exist which did not have doors that lead toRavellon; any attempt to remove those doors, to remove access toRavellon, have not met with success. And sometimes the failures have been catastrophic.
“We do not know why. ButRavellonwas built as it was by beings who left no records that we could read. Perhaps Spike could, if he could access them, but I do not believe he could impart that information to those of us who might be likely to know of it. Ask whyRavellon, but ask, as well, why mountains or rivers or Dragons. Why Barrani. Why mortals in all their different compositions. Why birth, in fact, when birth seems messy and leads, often, to death. There are too many things about life itself that make so little sense there are no reasonable answers. At least not to an old and exacting scholar like myself.
“What is of interest to me is Spike’s contention that there isonelord, or one ruler.”
Spike whirred. Helen’s eyes turned obsidian, as they did when she was concentrating; having eyes that appeared normal apparently required a good deal of effort, and her eyes were often the first thing that shifted when her thoughts were turned in a different direction.
“Not here,” Helen finally said. “And not now. I will entertain the possibility when we do not have guests to endanger.”
Spike continued to whir and click. More disturbingly, Helen joined him. The familiar on Kaylin’s shoulder squawked. To the familiar, Helen said, “Are you certain?”
Squawk.
“Is it possible,” the Consort finally said, “that the Shadowlord of whom they speak could be in control of Spike but not in control of the man who retrieved him?”
Kaylin thought about it. “Yes, I think it’s possible.”
“You do not think it’s probable.”
“I think there are two possibilities. One: the man in question is like the Dragon outcaste. He believes on some level that he is master of his own fate.Ifthat were true, he wouldn’t be involved with, or beholden to, the creature beneath the High Halls. But he wouldn’t be the first person to—” And here, she stopped. There were some things it was not safe to know, let alone discuss. She started again, and stopped because mentioning Iberrienne in front of Eddorian, his brother, caused the latter pain.
“Sorry. Two: he failed the Test of Name, but could withstand the touch of the creature beneath the High Halls; he left the Tower having, in theory, passed that test. If it’s the latter, and if Spike is right—or if he’s saying what he means in a language most of the rest of us can understand—the creature beneath the High Halls is, in some way, in league with the Shadowlord, if that’s what you want to call him. Or her. Or them. Whatever.”
“That is incorrect,” Spike then said.
