“You can, if you desire it, live the lives that any of your people have lived since the creation of the Tha’alaan.”
“Yes. As a child, I was not allowed entrance to the memories of the Tha’alanari; they are withheld from the greater populace, for reasons you now understand. But even so, without the extremes of torture and murder, all people know grief and suffering. All people know fear. It is only in our case that those fears become part of our general knowledge; we have the fear, we understand that we are not alone in feeling it, and we can help to calm it by reaching out to those who have done so themselves in the past. There is very little that reinforces the fear, causing it to plant roots that cannot be removed.” She shook herself.
“Will the castelord decide against my request?”
“That is Scoros’s hope.”
“You don’t know?”
“He has not chosen to answer the Tha’alanari, no.”
“Has he answered you?”
“I haven’t asked.” Her smile was a brief tremble of lips. “He understands that he is not my keeper. I understand that I cannot seek to avoid the responsibility of making and standing by my own choices by disguising my desire that he decide as asking for advice. He will leave the decision in my hands.”
“But he’s the castelord.”
“Yes.”
“Technically the decisionisin his hands.”
“That is the hope of most of the Tha’alanari. He did not, however, stop me from attending you in the Halls of Law. He feels that I am perhaps not exposed enough to mortals outside of the quarter; I see only those who are maddened beyond endurance. He knows that Helmat—the Wolflord,” she added, correcting herself, “feels protective of me, in as much as his duties make that possible.
“We are not a people who are accustomed to any command from above save the Emperor’s. The only time a single adult has complete control of our lives, we are in leading strings. They think of me as one who is barely out of leading strings. They love me as they can, they value me. And as all people who love can, they desire to protect me because they think I lack information and experience; that if my experiences more closely mirrored their own, I would believe what they believe.”
Severn shook his head.
“You don’t agree.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“You’ve seen far more than they want you to see already.”
She nodded, her eyes shifting from green to hazel.
“Have I asked for too much?”
“No. Perhaps they are right in one way. I want to protect my people. I hope never to be in the position you found yourself in, but I think it possible that I would make the decision you made. I hope never to find out.”
Scoros did not return. Ybelline, however, made clear that he would not. “He was not pleased with the answer he received,” she told him, a slight smile changing the contours of her mouth. “The decision is mine. The Tha’alanari cannot prevent me from entering the Tha’alaan; they might, with more success, prevent me from breathing.
“What will happen to the criminal behind these killings, if he is apprehended?”
“He will be executed. There are Wolves, and a few of those Wolves are Shadow Wolves. We’re called either assassins, if you despise us, or executioners. The Wolflord calls us executioners.”
“You don’t see a difference.”
“I do. But the word is just a word.”
“Words have power.”
Severn nodded. “I’m not a Shadow Wolf. I’m only barely a Wolf.”
“If you are here, Helmat has every intention of keeping you in his fold. This is not a request made lightly, and it will have possible consequences for the Halls of Law in the future. He must believe as you believe.”
“You do.”