“He will not cause as much concern as your familiar does and has,” the Consort pointed out. “And I imagine asking you to—”
The familiar in question squawked in pure outrage.
“—leave him behind will be singularly ineffective.”
“Well, it’s different. Hope’s not worried.”
Helen’s brows rose. “Is that what you truly believe?”
The Arkon cleared his throat. Loudly. “I would appreciate two things,” he said as he rose.
The Consort was instantly attentive. “And those?”
“That you give me some warning before you depart,” he replied. “And that Bellusdeo not be involved in any of your plans.”
“It’sShadow.” Bellusdeo almost spit the words out in fury. Clearly being left behind rather than charging into the Barrani version of hell was an outrageous suggestion to many of the people present. Kaylin, who had spent the formative years of her early life hiding from Ferals, didn’t viscerally understand why.
“Bellusdeo’s presence at Court would cause a very unfortunate stir. And given the current tensions between the Court and the Emperor, I would consider her lack of presence a necessity. I will not, of course, be present. If I can find information that might be of aid to you, I will pass it on through the private. But I will need at least three days.”
“I will give you two weeks. I would give you more time, but two weeks is all we will have before things become fractious.” The Consort’s voice was firm.
He frowned.
“It is better,” she said in the sweetest of voices, “to beg forgiveness than to ask permission, no?”
Chapter 13
“Of course the High Lord knows!” Sedarias said, six days later, while a tense cohort was considering—rather than eating—breakfast.
She and the cohort were grouped in the dining room, which once again looked like a posher version of the mess halls, because the tabletop here didn’t have names or curses carved into its surface.
Helen had given up on chairs for the cohort and instead created long benches so they could huddle together without chair arms getting in the way. Placing chairs on either side of the benches would have been awkward, so everyone got a bit of bench at breakfast.
Severn was now living under the same roof as everyone else. Kaylin realized that she often thought about him as if he were Barrani: he didn’t appear to need sleep, or at least didn’t suffer visibly from lack of it. Kaylin did, and she looked very much like she’d spent the entire evening at either the foundling hall or the guild of midwives; there were circles under her eyes. There were circlesunderthe circles. She looked like she had a hangover.
But the house hadn’t gotten any quieter since that dinner. The departure of the Consort, which had come as a bit of relief to Kaylin, had not come as a relief to the cohort. They’d become grimmer and far more determined—which, at least in Sedarias’s case, Kaylin would have bet a lot of money against being possible.
Bellusdeo—who was not allowed by specific agreement to accompany Kaylin and Severn—was very much an integral part of what Kaylin dubbed the council of war. And she suited it. Kaylin understood that the Dragon had once ruled a world—or its shrinking remnants. She had never doubted it. But seeing her with the Barrani cohort—and with Sedarias in particular—drove that point home.
Bellusdeo had come alive. Kaylin had seen her fight, but the draconic form didn’t quite have the flexibility to express subtle emotions—at least not to those who weren’t Dragons themselves. All of the Dragon’s ferocity had been brought to the literal table. She took in everything, and when she did, she asked questions that were just shy of demands. She spoke as if she owned the table, the room and the battle itself.
While this was a surprise to Kaylin, what shocked her was Sedarias’s reaction. A woman who was raised to rule a Barrani family that was, by implication, one of the most treacherous, deadly of houses took the questions that were almost demands, and focused her energy not on defending her turf, but on actually answering them.
Bellusdeo insisted that the reports Diarmat had given Kaylin be brought to her, and she read them with care. This occasioned even more questions—and as the cohort had not lived through most of the actual history the Imperial service had preserved, it should have been difficult to answer any of them. Sedarias, however, made the attempt.
It was Teela who provided most of the actual answers, and when she couldn’t, Ynpharion did.
“Teela, did you or do you recognize the man in Spike’s replay?”
Teela nodded. Every eye in the room swiveled toward the Barrani Hawk. Terrano was the only member present who didn’t seem annoyed.
“Kaylin has guessed that the Adversary beneath the High Halls is actively involved with the Barrani and certain members of its Court,” Teela said. “But I am not so certain. I believe itispossible—but I believe that most of the Barrani who came into contact with Terrano might be moved to interact with Shadow for their own purposes.
“No one who passed the test of the Tower would instantly believe that they could somehow ally themselves with the creature and come out on top. This allows for only two possibilities. There are Shadows with whom certain Barrani have clearly interacted, or the creature beneath the High Halls has finally discovered how to take a name without destroying its vessel.”
“The man is a new Lord of the Court?” Kaylin then asked.
“He is newer, yes.”
