“There’s no one else. Teela won’t talk to me at all.”
“Perhaps there are reasons for that. And perhaps that is why she accompanied you today.”
“I doubt it.”
“Then explain why you want information about Candallar.” The Consort was watching Teela, although in theory the question had been aimed at Kaylin.
Kaylin sucked in air.It’s Hawk businessas a reply wasn’t going to get her anything, and she knew it. “Fine. You know that Mandoran and Annarion are living with me, right?”
“I’d suggest you continue to speak in High Barrani,” Teela said quietly.
“I am aware, yes. I believe most of the Court is aware of their current placement.” The words and tone were neutral.
“I like them both,” Kaylin continued, trying—and failing—to keep defensiveness out of her voice. “Mandoran, I’m told, is what you’d consider childish. Annarion isn’t.”
The Consort nodded, her expression hooded.
Kaylin teetered for one long minute, trying to choose the words for her next sentence, and finding that there were far too many of them demanding her attention. Or demanding the Consort’s. She wanted to know about Candallar. It had been the reason she had requested the meeting—a meeting that had been granted with almost alarming speed.
But last night had upended priorities, as emergencies often did. And if Annarion and Mandoran weren’t like Teela anymore, Teela was still one of them. She was just better at hiding panic because she’d had centuries of practice.
“You’re aware that the rest of their friends have decided to come to Elantra.” It wasn’t a question.
The Consort nodded.
“They left the West March. They were traveling the portal paths—don’t ask me why, I think it’s suicidal. But something happened to them on the way there, and now we have no contact with them.”
The Consort’s eyes had not shifted back to green, and given the way the rest of her expression changed, they weren’t going to today, either.
“We think they were attacked.”
“Were they attacked by the Hallionne?”
“We don’t have that information.”
“The Hallionne are not political.”
“They were createdforwar.”
“Not entirely. Hallionne Alsanis protected Teela’s friends. In as much as they were allowed to be, they were his only company. But in order to escape the cage he made for them, they altered themselves—or so Alsanis believes.”
“You’ve spoken with Alsanis.”
“Does it surprise you?”
Did it? Kaylin examined the question. “You spoke with him after we returned from the green.”
She nodded. “I will not ask you how Annarion and Mandoran fare. They have not come to the High Halls, and they have not been formally introduced to me. Even were they to desire such an introduction, it is likely it would be denied. I could actively campaign to meet with them, but the High Halls are not the Hallionne. If Annarion and Mandoran are a danger—if they are anunintentionaldanger—I cannot in good conscience take that risk.” She waited.
And Kaylin heard herself say, “You could come meet them at my place.”
“That is very thoughtful of you,” the Consort said, affecting a surprise Kaylin was suddenly certain she did not feel.
Ynpharion was both elated and furious. Elated because Kaylin had managed against all odds to do exactly as the Consort wished her to do, but could not—for political reasons—demand or even ask, and furious because Kaylin had failed to understand the very obvious request until the last minute.
“I know you’re pretty busy,” Kaylin began.
An’Teela is correct. Speak in High Barrani.