“No, fortunately for us, it was not.”
“So we’re going to the High Halls for two reasons.”
“If it comes to that, yes. But the meeting with Evarrim is necessary at this point. An Aerian Arcanist was mentioned, and that statue—it screams Arcanum, to me. I could, of course, be wrong.” Before Kaylin could speak, she added, “Yes, I know. Any ‘bad’ magic screams Arcanum to you. It’s the one way in which the Hawk training lacks anything remotely resembling either objectivity or subtlety.”
“If you look at the objective record where magic is concerned, the Arcanum is often at the heart of the worst of the problems.”
“Perhaps in the last decade. That was not always the case, however. The immortals—in particular, the Dragons—did not practice sorcery in packs; they did not require either companions or cooperation.”
“Fine. But this case is occurring inthisdecade.”
“Kitling, you will have to find a way to take criticism of the Hawks less personally. It really isn’t about you. If you want personal criticism, however, we can talk about your clothing.”
“Thanks, Teela.”
* * *
Kaylin was, in theory,LordKaylin. She had inadvertently taken—and passed—the Test of Name that the Tower of test offered Barrani would-be lords. The fact that she didn’thavea Name at the time was a bit of a sore point for the Barrani who had not yet taken that test. It was probably a sore point for the Barrani who had, as well. The fact that a mere mortal had taken the test sat particularly poorly with Annarion, who had been forbidden to make the attempt himself. She had some sympathy with his frustration, and had attempted to be logical about it.
“I didn’t have a Name the way Barrani do. Whatever was being tested, it wasn’t me, precisely.”
He had taken exactly zero comfort from the words, and Kaylin had stopped trying. But as she placed her right foot on the grand, wide stairs that led into the tranquility and perfection of the High Halls, she wondered why anyone would voluntarily subject themselves to this.
Teela, dressed in forest green, her hair caught and held by combs of diamonds and platinum, looked entirely at home. The Hawk was nowhere in sight; to look at her, she was a Lord of both power and significance. She wore rings. She made Kaylin wear the one ring that the Barrani Lords would recognize. Usually, the ring was kept in a box under her bed. In Kaylin’s childhood, wearing something obviously valuable had been an invitation for throat slitting and theft. She understood that this was no longer true, but old habits died hard. Best not to stick out. Best not to be noticed.
She couldn’t help being noticed here; she was mortal. She wasn’t the only mortal—Severn was beside her—but it didn’t matter. There was nowhere she could walk in this getup that wouldn’t draw or demand attention, but in the High Halls, it wasn’t the clothing that attracted the stares. It was the mortality.
Mortals were only barely considered people by some of the old-school hardliners. Were it not for the fact that the Eternal Emperor considered them people, Kaylin doubted most of the Barrani would; at best, they’d be pets. It annoyed her, but annoyance ran a distant second place to survival. She kept her annoyance to herself.
She forced herself to consider the elements of her silent presentation: her posture, the way her arms hung at her side, the tilt of her head, her chin, the speed of her movements. Elegance, apparently, involved an absence of urgency. Diarmat’s Dragon voice was ringing in her ears, and she almost missed him. She certainly missed Bellusdeo.
Had Bellusdeo chosen to accompany them, no one would have given Kaylin or Severn a second glance, or possibly even a first one. She blinked when a man she did not recognize bowed before Teela. Teela’s eyes had shaded from green to a green blue the moment the carriage had pulled to a stop, but that was normal for the High Halls.
“Lord Teela, Lord Kaylin, Lord Severn. The Lady bids you welcome.”
Kaylin relaxed, but only marginally. She had offended the Lady on a previous occasion, and had since managed—barely—to work her way back into the Consort’s good graces. She was afraid to spend time with her, though. She didn’t want to end up at the bottom of the ladder again.
“If you have a moment in your otherwise busy schedule, she would be gratified for your company.”
Kaylin wilted.
She is not angry with you, a familiar voice said. Kaylin could—and often did—forget about Ynpharion from time to time, in part because she now could. She knew his Name, his True Name. She couldn’t figure out how to forget that she knew it.
But he had also offered his Name to the Consort, and in the end, the Consort’s power, the Consort’s certainty, the Consort’s lack of fear, had stabilized her internal relationship with the only person who had not given her knowledge of his Name willingly.
Does she really want to see us? Or is this some sort of game? I’m not sure I like the look of that man.
You dislike the look of any man who is not a Hawk, Ynpharion shot back. By man, he meant Barrani.I am not, however, saying that this is unwise. You do not understand how to be cautious when you are among the powerful. This is, in part, a game; the Lord attempts to curry favor with the Consort by carrying a message, as if he were a lesser servant. But she does wish to speak with you.
With me, or with Teela?
With both.
We’re here to speak with Evarrim.
Yes. And it should come as no surprise to you that, as the Lady is aware of this, she has made certain that your paths will overlap.
Evarrim is with her.