Bellusdeo, Emmerian and the Arkon left together; they were followed at a discreet distance by Annarion, Sedarias, Mandoran and Terrano, although Annarion fell back to walk beside his brother. There was no hostility between the two brothers, which was almost a first.
Kaylin and Severn walked together. She glanced pointedly at his singed arm, and he just as pointedly refused to notice the direction of her glance.
The Academia looked normal: the grass, the trees, the buildings all had the color one would expect had they been situated in any other part of Elantra. The grounds weren’t empty; the cohort, the Dragons and the Hawks were not the only people leaving. Not all of the people Candallar—she assumed it was Candallar—had inducted into the student body had enjoyed their endless and repetitive captivity.
One or two looked back, as if they were afraid that freedom was the dream and the Academia the only reality—but they continued to walk toward the streets that would lead them, eventually, to Elantra.
Those streets, however, like the Academia, were solid. The cohort could see them as clearly as anyone else; they no longer saw the fog that obscured the buildings everyone else had seen.
Killian was, as Kaylin had half suspected, the border zone.
She wondered if the streets that led to the fiefs—but no, there were no streets now. The border zone, with its changing width, length and unpredictable buildings, was gone; what remained was a pleasant single street that led directly into the fief of Nightshade.
The fieflings and the Barrani who served Nightshade directly wouldn’t have dared to stop the large party that now entered the fief; they might seek Nightshade’s command, but as he was walking with them, they failed to emerge. He walked them to the bridge that led across the Ablayne.
“I would invite you to visit,” he said to his brother, “but Durandel is difficult and willful, and I do not think he has forgiven you for the last visit.”
Annarion was in no hurry to return—not to Castle Nightshade. The whole of the cohort, however, seemed eager to return to Helen. To Helen or the rest of their number, who were waiting.
Kaylin understood; she wanted to go home, too.
But Lord Emmerian invited her to accompany them to the palace. Her expression must have been honest because he winced. Bellusdeo, however, put her foot down.
“We will accompany Lannagaros to the palace. He will need to speak to the Dragon Court about what occurred—and you are one of our primary witnesses.”
Hope squawked.
“Yes, I’m aware of that—but there will be questions, and we thought it best to allow Kaylin to answer them. I am not certain the cohort is prepared for the Imperial Court at the moment, and even were the cohort prepared, I’m not certain the same could be said for the Court. You are their spokesperson, as well.”
“Sedarias wouldn’t agree to that.”
“No, of course not. But Sedarias is with Helen, and her reaction is your problem.”
“Can I remind you that you also live under the same roof?”
Bellusdeo grinned. With teeth.
Kaylin wanted Severn as company; she wanted Severn to clean and tend his arm.
He shook his head. “I’ve had worse injuries. This is almost nothing.”
“It’s a burn. Burns are—”
“It’s not a burn. It’s fine. I highly doubt the Emperor—or the rest of the Court—will look twice at my lack of a sleeve given the news the former Arkon is about to impart.”
Sleeves might or might not be an issue, but sleeves—attached to a shirt—were brought by pages when Severn arrived at the palace. He and Kaylin, following Emmerian, had been escorted to Sanabalis’s offices. Sanabalis was in those rooms at the time. He didn’t look exactly pleased to see Kaylin, but his eyes retained their predominantly golden hue, and he did offer drinks and refreshments. For once, Kaylin declined.
Emmerian spoke briefly with Sanabalis, whose eyes did shift to a more martial orange. He nodded, and Emmerian left—no doubt to speak with Lord Diarmat and the Emperor, the two Dragons not yet in the loop.
“I hesitate to ask what you’ve done this time,” Sanabalis said when Emmerian had left them. “I note the Arkon and Bellusdeo did not join you here. What is the current emergency?”
“The Arkon,” Kaylin replied.
“He was injured?”
“Not precisely. Look—I’m tired. No, I’m exhausted. I want to go home and put my feet up someplace where they won’t get bitten off. But Lord Emmerian and Bellusdeo insisted I accompany them to the palace, where people could question me endlessly if they needed answers.” Answers that were never going to be complete enough for the purposes of annoyed Dragons.
Sanabalis transferred his gaze to Severn, who offered a polite version of a fief shrug. Kaylin noted that Sanabalis didn’t pressure Severn for more information.
