“I think we should cross at the internal border,” Kaylin said as the Hawks left the Tower. “If Candallar knows that he’s under suspicion, he’ll know that we’re coming if we cross the bridge.”
“He’ll know that we’re coming regardless,” Severn said. He had fallen in beside her in a patrol-speed walk.
“He’ll have to be looking. Tara said that the people who live in the buildings directly adjacent to the borders sometimes flicker in her awareness. If that’s the case, the border is our best bet of not being detected.”
“That’s clearly the case for Tara. It might not be the case for Candallar’s Tower.”
“She seemed pretty certain that the Towers share the same imperatives.”
“So were we until we met Tara.”
This was a fair point. Hope apparently agreed; he pushed himself into the sitting position on her shoulder and gave Severn a brief but regal nod.
“There are few people who try to sneak into the fiefs, and most of those are fleeing to a place where Imperial Law doesn’t apply.” Severn glanced at her. “My forays into the fiefs were done at the command of the Wolflord.”
“Candallar probably didn’t notice. The inhabitants of the fiefs are mostly mortals.”
Severn’s nod wasn’t quite agreement.
“You think he knows too much about mortals and Imperial Laws.”
“I think he knows enough not to make the assumption we’re harmless, but Barrani arrogance is fairly pervasive.” He looked up as a large shadow crossed their path.
Bellusdeo, Maggaron on her back, descended into an empty patch of road. Maggaron immediately dismounted and returned the Dragon’s clothing to her; she took a bloody long time putting it on.
“Where are we going next?”
Kaylin wanted to tell Bellusdeo that she was going home. Her compromise was to ask Bellusdeo to return Maggaron to Helen. If she and Severn intended to cross the border without immediately alerting the Tower of Candallar, having an eight-foot-tall companion was going to make it impossible.
Maggaron didn’t seem happy with this compromise. Bellusdeo couldn’t fly him to Helen and fly back without breaking the law. It was, in the gold Dragon’s opinion, a very stupid law, and it wouldn’t be the first time she had chosen to break it—but at this point in her tenure in Elantra, flight was not the hill to die on.
Maggaron, understanding this, offered to walk home alone. Bellusdeo growled—literally—but accepted his offer. Even Kaylin felt slightly guilty. It wasn’t his fault that he was so damn tall, and if this had been a city ofNorannir, his presence wouldn’t have mattered. But Tiamaris was the only home of theNorannirwho had survived the destruction of their world, and they seldom crossed the Ablayne into Elantra proper.
It was unlikely that anyone would be stupid enough to attempt to mug or steal from him. Not impossible, but at this time of day, most people wouldn’t be drunk enough that stupid became the new normal.
Kaylin chose a section of the border midway between safety—Elantra—and death, beingRavellon. A street, with buildings on either side, was bisected by the border. Like any neighborhood border, it was invisible; a thing for laws and papers, a claim that made no material difference to the lay of the land. But invisible in the fiefs had a different weight, a different meaning.
Here, the borders weren’t a matter of bureaucracy and maps. The Towers that existed in each fief were the reason the fiefs existed at all: they were meant to guard against the intrusion of Shadow in a specific area known to the Towers and their creators. The fieflords could sense the borders of the fiefs whose Towers they ruled.
Bellusdeo let Severn take the lead, but her eyes shaded to orange when Hope lifted a translucent wing and smacked it across Kaylin’s eyes.
Kaylin called a silent halt; Severn stopped. If True Names had done nothing else for their partnership, they’d allowed communication across distances that raised voices wouldn’t penetrate.
For the first time, Kaylin could see the border boundary. It wasn’t a line on the ground, but a transparent wall. Perhaps double her height, it extended in either direction. Her gaze followed the line of that wall, first to the city that was her home, and second, to the heart of the fiefs themselves:Ravellon. There, the wall was not wall, but dome.
Hope didn’t lower his wing.
Sorry, Kaylin told Severn.There’s nothing dangerous that I can see—but I’ve never looked at the border like this before.
He nodded and continued to move. When he sent an all-clear, Kaylin followed, Bellusdeo by her side.
Dragons weren’t naturally stealthy creatures. Although Bellusdeo didn’t make any noise, she radiated an almost aggressive self-confidence. Kaylin was fairly certain she could walk on her own and go unmolested in Nightshade—or Candallar. The tabard of the Hawk couldn’t grant Kaylin that aura of certainty or confidence.
Crossing the border of Tiamaris didn’t feel different. It looked different because of Hope’s wing, but she could step through it without the pain and nausea caused by portals or other forms of protective magic. The world rippled as she did, but it was the same ripple a stone might cause if dropped into a still pond.
Reality reasserted itself, but in doing so, seemed to have lost some of its color. This she’d experienced before. The street beneath her feet felt the same, but it seemed to her eyes like a faded replica—as if someone had taken white and blended it with everything present to soften the vibrancy of distinguishing color. This was, on the other hand, what the border zone always looked like, even without Hope’s wing.
Kaylin looked to the right as she crossed the weed-strewn lawn of the building directly to their left. From this vantage, she could see a two-story building opposite a three-story one. It looked unlike any of the other buildings on this street; for one, it seemed new. It also lacked windows and doors. She frowned as Severn turned toward it.
