“But they don’t kill them.”
“The don’t have to—”
“They used to remove the wings of the outcaste,” Moran said, “and then throw them off the peak of the Aerie.”
Kaylin almost blanched. Teela and Mandoran seemed entirely unmoved.
“They don’t do that anymore. The person is cast out of the Southern Reach, but they are set down on the ground, where they are doomed to remain.” She rose and headed to the door, but paused midway between door and table, as if she had forgotten what she’d intended to do. “Why are you asking?”
“Because we’ve been thinking that assassinating you would free up the power of thepraevolo. You were born in obscurity, and that’s offended someone in power. You’re dar Carafel, but in name only, and frankly, you hate the name and don’t use it.
“But what if that’s not what they intend? Thepraevolocan’t be made outcaste.”
“You’re certain of that?” Moran asked, lifting a brow and using her sergeant voice.
“Yes, sir.” Kaylin grimaced. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Clint believes it. I thinkallthe Aerians in the Halls believe it. You’ve gone from being a pariah to being the local hero, by the way.”
“Do. Not. Start.”
Kaylin had some sympathy with this. Shehatedit when the Barrani Hawks called her Lord Kaylin in the office. But it wasn’t the same thing, and they both knew it.
“Do you have any idea how the whole wing removal thing works?”
Moran was silent.
“I’m not asking for the fun of it. It is not fun for either of us.”
“You’re asking for a reason.”
“Yes.”
“And that?”
“Big, ugly outcaste black Dragon who calls Ravellon his home.”
Moran’s eyes shaded to what Kaylin thought of as Barrani blue. So did Mandoran’s. Bellusdeo’s eyes were the orange they generally became when the outcaste Dragon was mentioned at all.
“What does the outcaste Dragon have to do with outcaste Aerians?”
“What if the outcaste Dragon could offer the outcaste Aerians their wings back? What if he could offer the ruling Aerians the power of thepraevolo, without the inconvenience of having to worry about who thatpraevoloactually is?” She drew a deeper, longer breath. “Moran, what if the power of flight, and the power of thepraevolo, were somehow related to Shadow and its magic?”
* * *
Moran said a long, long nothing. Kaylin thought she would leave—she was making eyes at the door as if seriously considering that option. But in the end, she exhaled heavily and said, “I owe you at least this much.”
“You don’t,” Kaylin countered. “You don’t owe me anything.”
“You’ve given me shelter, Kaylin; you’ve given me a place in which I can feel at home, even if it’s not my home. That’s a rare gift, at least for someone like me.”
“I didn’t do that, though. Helen did.”
Helen coughed. She was not currently in the dining room, but of course her voice was. She was aware of anything that occurred within her walls.
“You’ve never seen someone declared outcaste.” It wasn’t a question.