Cast in Deception Read online

  “They have been trying,” Helen replied, “to describe it.”

  “They can’t. You can.”

  “I can describe it to them, yes. It is not a matter of privacy, Kaylin. It is a matter of words, of experience. Something happened. The cohort have been learning from Mandoran and Annarion. They have been practicing to live outside of the Hallionne. But they have had less practice and less contact with people like you. The closest analogue is Teela, but it is hard for them to think like Teela, because to do so, they have to experience only a narrow range of their existence.

  “It is like trying to pour the contents of a pitcher into one glass. For you, it is natural; you understand how quickly water flows. You understand when to stop pouring. They are attempting to do what you naturally do when they can see neither the pitcher nor the glass.”

  Kaylin turned to Mandoran. She poked her familiar. Her familiar squawked and squawked again, like an angry bird.

  “It is not that you would not see what happened were you there,” Helen said, after a pause. “You would. But you would not see it as they saw it. You would not understand it as they might.”

  “If I try to stab Mandoran right now and you don’t attempt to stop me, he’s going to see it the way I see it.”

  “Yes.”

  It was Annarion who said, “No.”

  “Did someone try to stab them?”

  It was Teela who said, “I think so, figuratively speaking.” At Kaylin’s expression, she added, “Just because you can see what someone else is seeing doesn’t mean that it makes more sense. I haven’t had the experiences the rest of my cohort has had. I have had more experience with the arcane arts that are confined to the reality I perceive. I believe, if you were to venture to the location in which they disappeared, you would find obvious—and large—traces of magical aftershocks.

  “It is possible that those aftershocks exist for perfectly understandable and harmless reasons—”

  “But not bloody likely.”

  “Not in my opinion, no.”

  Kaylin opened her mouth. Before words came out, Helen said, “I believe Lord Nightshade has arrived.”

  Annarion said nothing. Mandoran, however, said a lot. In Leontine.

  * * *

  By this time, everyone was more or less “stable” as Helen called it, and she ushered them all into the parlor. Kaylin would have preferred the dining room, but Helen chose to ignore those preferences, probably because Nightshade was involved.

  Moran was not in residence, which was the one silver lining of the evening. The last thing Moran needed was the political infighting of an entirely different caste court, given her current position.

  Everyone else, however, was in the parlor. Mandoran had attempted to have Bellusdeo excluded, but Helen vetoed it, and Kaylin—who really didn’t want to put the Dragon at risk—hadn’t the heart to agree with Mandoran. Bellusdeo was more likely to survive extreme danger than Kaylin herself.

  Nightshade appeared composed and almost casual. He also looked like he’d gotten sleep. While she knew the Barrani didn’t require sleep, every other Barrani in the room, Tain included, looked like they needed about a week of it. She was certain she didn’t look any better.

  “Not really, dear,” Helen said.

  Severn was the only regular who wasn’t in attendance.

  Annarion’s bow, when offered to his brother, was stiff and overly formal, which was not lost on Nightshade. Since the brothers had had almost two weeks of relative peace, Kaylin had hoped that this meant arguments were behind them. But no, of course not. The issues that had caused the argument hadn’t been resolved.

  The attempt, on Annarion’s part, to resolve them had become the point of contention, widening the conflict to encompass everyone else.

  Helen offered drinks to everyone present. Teela and Tain immediately accepted. They didn’t ask for water. Kaylin, who already had a headache, decided that alcohol wasn’t going to make it any better, but Mandoran followed the Barrani Hawks’ lead. Annarion and Nightshade did not.

  “Kaylin has told me some of what has occurred.”

  This wasn’t entirely accurate, but Kaylin let it go. What mattered right at this particular moment was the cohort. All of it.

  Annarion was silent. Teela, however, took the reins of the conversation, such as it was. She had always been a reckless driver—no one with any experience in the Hawks let her drive anything if they had to be a passenger—but she steered this particular conversation with ease. Probably because it was short and the Barrani were good at implying things without actually using the words.

  “But they were not in the Hallionne?” Nightshade asked, when it was clear Teela had finished.

  Mandoran answered. “No. They were in transit to Hallionne Orbaranne, on the portal paths.”

  Annarion did not glance at his brother, but it wasn’t required. Kaylin suspected it was Annarion who was directing the conversation because Mandoran spoke High Barrani, and he spoke it politely and perfectly.

  Nightshade considered them all. “Lord Bellusdeo,” he finally said.

  She was orange-eyed and regal as she nodded. Teela’s eyes were blue; Tain’s eyes were blue. They were seldom any other color in the presence of Nightshade.

  “Lord Kaylin has been granted access to the Hallionne, should she be the agent of investigation. You however...”

  “Have not.”

  “No.”

  “And would not likely be granted that access.”

  “No. The Hallionne are not duplicitous, in general; they would not offer you rest or shelter with the sole intent of destroying you once you were entirely within their power. At best, they would become a prison, should they be inclined to grant permission they were not built to grant. If, as I suspect, intervention is required, it would be inadvisable for you to travel west.”

  “And you, as outcaste, would be granted that permission?”

  “I have offered blood to the Hallionne; I have paid the price of entry. Once accepted, the Hallionne will not reject me unless there is deliberate intervention.”

  “I do not understand how there could not be.”

  “No, you do not. The Dragon outcastes and the Barrani outcastes are not the same. Among your kin, you would have had both friends and enemies, as is the case with the Barrani. But the designation of outcaste has a physical meaning to your kin that it does not have to mine. The Barrani designation is political. It is oft deadly, but not, as you are aware, always.

  “If the High Court considered me the danger that Dragon outcastes are considered, they might bespeak the Hallionne—but it is both time-consuming and dangerous to do so. They cannot merely mirror the Hallionne and change the guest list; they must travel in person. And the request is not delivered by the simple expedient of word.”

  “The Consort could do it,” Kaylin said.

  “Yes. But it is not without cost to her, and the High Lord seldom countenances such an action.”

  Kaylin hesitated again. It was marked by everyone in the room, but they were all on high alert. “Your brother’s friends aren’t outcaste.”

  “Not in the political sense, no. And they had permission to travel; they gained it during the war and it was not revoked.”

  “During the war.”

  “When they traveled to the West March at the behest of the High Court.”

  “...They’re not the same as they were then.”

  “No. They carry, I am told, their names. But they are closer now to Dragon outcastes than Barrani outcastes have ever been. It is tacitly unacknowledged. The Hallionne Alsanis has restricted the flow of information about their time in his care, but he is in contact with the other Hallionne that form the road they will travel. Not until they leave Kariastos, if they travel that far, would they be required to travel across land—and Kariastos is well away from th
e shadowlands and ruins the Hallionne were built to guard against.”

  “Annarion and Mandoran did not travel the portal roads to reach Elantra.”

  “We’d spent enough time in the damn Hallionne,” Mandoran said, dropping High Barrani in favor of the Elantran he usually preferred. “We thought it would be a nice change to travel outside of one. Mostly, it was boring. And sullen.”

  Annarion’s expression was not nearly as neutral as Teela’s as his brother continued to speak.

  “The Hallionne are capable of limiting communication of any kind beyond their borders. You are aware that Helen...oversees our communication to a greater or lesser extent. Helen is not the equal of the Hallionne. If she has that functionality, it would be naive to think the Hallionne do not possess it as well.”

  Kaylin struggled with resentment; she didn’t want Nightshade to talk about Helen as if Helen were a thing, an inanimate object.

  Helen, however, did not appear to suffer the same resentment. Her gaze went to Kaylin, and one brow rose in curiosity. “He speaks of me,” she said, “as if I were a building. And Kaylin, I am. It is the core of what I am.” She turned once again to Nightshade. “I am not in contact with the Hallionne; I cannot say if his assumption is correct. But I believe it must be.” To Nightshade, she said, “Do you believe that Kaylin will be required to visit the Hallionne?”

  “I am uncertain at this point. But I do not believe it would be in the best interests of either Annarion or Mandoran to investigate in person.”

  “And Teela?” Kaylin asked.

  “Teela has been a guest at the Hallionne after her return from the West March; she has been more, at the behest of the green. The Hallionne will not cage or attempt to destroy her. They know her and they accept her.” He turned to Teela. “I have heard that there has been some difficulty in the Halls of Law.”

  She failed to glare at Kaylin, not that it would have made much difference to the color of her eyes. If Helen could limit communication within her boundaries, she had no control of what Nightshade could hear outside of them.

  “If it is true that there is some unfortunate political unrest, this may be an appropriate time to investigate.”

  “I will take that into consideration,” Teela replied. Her voice, like her expression, was a forbidding wall. Kaylin could well imagine what consideration meant, in this case.

  Mandoran cursed in Leontine. Since no one had said anything out loud, Kaylin assumed it was at something that passed privately between the three who could speak without speaking.

  “There is nothing you can do tonight,” Helen said, and Kaylin revised that number to four. “Kaylin intends to visit the Consort in person.”

  “Oh?” Teela’s word was cool. Chilly.

  “Yes, dear. Her initial concern was Candallar. Kaylin is sensitive to the idea of fieflords and their interactions within Elantra.”

  Teela exhaled. She did not, however, look any friendlier as she turned her glare on Nightshade. Nightshade countered with an elegant smile that was about as friendly as Teela’s glare. Helen stepped between them with drinks.

  “Candallar is not your problem,” Teela said anyway.

  “Did I encounter him while on patrol?”

  “He didn’t break any laws.”

  “Not on this side of the Ablayne, no. And frankly, I’d like to keep it that way.”

  Tain winced. Mandoran whistled.

  “While I’m visiting the Consort, I can ask about the Hallionne.”

  “I consider that unwise,” Teela replied.

  “Probably. But she might have answers that we don’t, and we’re going to need them.”

  Mandoran coughed. “I think I’m supposed to say that the Hallionne and our friends are not your problem.”

  “If I’d never gone to the green, none of you would be here. You wouldn’t be able to travel. The High Court politicians wouldn’t be up in arms.”

  “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with asking the Consort, myself,” Mandoran added.

  “There is everything wrong with it at this time,” Tain said. “It may have escaped your notice, but Kaylin is mortal.”

  Kaylin tried not to bristle. She failed. “I’m a Hawk.” She folded her arms.

  “A mortal Hawk.”

  “I was sent to the East Warrens. Not you.”

  “You wouldn’t have been sent to the East Warrens if—” He stopped.

  “Ifs don’t matter. I was sent. I met Candallar. Candallar is a fieflord, and Candallar appears to be involved. And probably not in a good way, given what happened with the rest of the Barrani Hawks. I won’t push into Teela’s political problems—those are above my pay grade. They’re probably above the Hawklord’s pay grade. But I will talk to the Consort about Candallar.”

  “Why would you think she would have any information about Candallar?” As he asked, his gaze shifted to Nightshade.

  To Kaylin’s surprise, Nightshade inclined his head. It appeared to surprise some of the Barrani present as well, but did not surprise Annarion. “You are all familiar with Private Neya, surely. She will not pester—” he used the Elantran word “—the rest of the Barrani Hawks. I can give her very little relevant information about the current political substructures in the High Court, or she would pester me.

  “She could ask the Lord of the West March, and may be forced to do just that if the situation with your friends deteriorates; he is familiar with Hallionne Orbaranne, and the Hallionne appears to be attached to him. But if his political strength is significant, his reach is compromised by his position; he does not dwell in the High Halls. Any threat of retribution made is made and taken with that understanding: time and distance are issues.

  “She could, of course, ask An’Teela, but An’Teela will not answer. She might ask Lord Andellen, but he is almost a political outsider; his tenure as Lord of the High Court expires when Kaylin expires. He cannot build positions of true influence when he serves an outcaste.

  “I believe that Kaylin is safe with the Consort; the Consort is safe with Kaylin, and not solely because she is mortal and relatively harmless. We speak that lie frequently, but the Consort does not believe it. Regardless, she will ask. Let her ask there. If she is with the Consort, no one will attack her; if she is with the Consort, none but the most subtle will attempt to engage her at all.”

  “Such subtlety does exist at Court,” Teela said.

  “Yes.”

  “I will go with her.”

  * * *

  Kaylin used Helen’s begrudged mirror room to make what amounted to an appointment to speak with the Consort; the Consort was not Kaylin, and no one except perhaps possibly the High Lord, just “dropped in” for a visit. Because Barrani didn’t need to sleep, the High Halls were never closed for business. Someone in official, or at least elegant, clothing responded to the mirror, activated it, and—with a narrowing of blue eyes, bid her wait.

  He returned, his expression completely neutral, informed her that the Consort was willing to entertain her very “unusual” request, and told her when to arrive.

  And then, hearing Annarion’s raised voice in the background, Kaylin cringed and snuck back to her room and her interrupted sleep.

  8

  “Look, you don’t have to come. I’m not a four-year-old foundling caught sneaking cookies before meal time, and you are not my mother.”

  Teela wore Court dress, not Hawk tabard. Kaylin, technically a Lord of the High Court, was in work gear and did not intend to change. It was hard, however, to stand beside Teela in all of her elegant finery and not feel dirty, undereducated and powerless. The Hawk helped, but not much. On the other hand, her relationship with the quartermaster had never recovered from the only time she had dressed in Court-appropriate gear, and frankly, the quartermaster could make her daily life a lot more miserable than the High Court could.
r />   Severn, likewise in tabard, accompanied her. The Hawklord had not only agreed to the meeting, but had insisted that Kaylin be paid for it—which meant it was official duty. This had drawbacks, of course. If it was official, everything was to be reported, and those reports—at least the ones Marcus didn’t shred in frustration before signing—were headed for Records in one form or another.

  Because Teela was not on duty for this particular meeting, Tain wasn’t with them. Bellusdeo, who had Imperial permission to tag along on Kaylin’s duties, excused herself. Technically, Bellusdeo could demand to be allowed to follow, but the cost of that would probably be drastically reduced Imperial permission in future.

  Also, she didn’t like the Barrani much. Thumbing her figurative nose at a gathering of their most powerful—and most ancient—did not strike her as wise. It was a small mercy.

  If Kaylin was not part of Mandoran and Annarion’s cohort, she was not absent knowledge of other True Names. Of those that she knew, only one had been taken, rather than given, and the owner of that name was generally not subtle about his dislike.

  So of course, it was Ynpharion who interrupted a quiet carriage ride, Teela not being allowed to actually drive. Tell Lord Teela that it is recommended that she avoid the great hall.

  Why?

  Tell her. If I have to explain why, you will be in the great hall before I am finished—if I am finished by then.

  “Ynpharion says that you are advised not to enter via the great hall.”

  “Does he?” Teela’s response was cool. “Did you, by chance, ask for this advice?”

  “I don’t know why you insist on asking questions when you already know the answers.”

  “That is the very nature of tests. I know the answers, you don’t.”

  “Fine. No I didn’t.”

  “Sadly, that is the wrong answer.” Ynpharion seemed to find this amusing.

  “If we aren’t entering through the great hall, how are we supposed to get to the Consort?”