“I believe it would be to our advantage to have them here, yes,” Helen replied. “But the idea was not mine. It was Teela’s.”
“Nightshade is here—it’s too risky. It wouldn’t be difficult for his enemies to find out where he is. They’re probably here to finish the job.”
“An’Tellarus is here. She is not pleased. Fallessian has left Mrs. Erickson in her rooms and has joined Sedarias. Allaron is with her now, as well.”
“Serralyn better not be on the way.”
“She is not. Valliant remains with her; they are both in the library. She is possibly the safest person in the cohort at the moment. Arbiter Androsse, apprised of the presence of the green here, has joined Arbiter Starrante in his research.”
Annarion cleared his throat. “Androsse suggests that you attempt to use the Erenne mark to reach my brother.”
Kaylin had no idea how to use the mark. A slave mark—or so it had been called—didn’t generally go two ways. But the mark bled periodically, and had since Nightshade had been attacked. She assumed he was—somehow—trying to reach out to her.
“Ask Androsse if the more powerful person in this arrangement can unconsciously reach out to the person bearing the mark.”
“Yes. There should be some hint of subconscious, some hint of actual intelligence, in the attempt; the binding can becomeattenuated, but the connection persists until the mark is released. He adds that this was true of Immortals of disparate power; he is uncertain that the rules that govern the mark’s use even work in a situation in which a mortal is involved.
“Given that caveat, Androsse believes you should never have lost contact. The binding isn’t a binding based on True Name. It’s a binding of a more personal nature, if the spell was properly executed. The nature of the mark applied would change depending on the person who applied it, but the essential nature of an Erenne should be preserved.”
Silence. Annarion bowed his head; Kaylin couldn’t see his expression. Yet another argument was in progress.
“Yes,” Helen said. “Arbiter Androsse informed Serralyn that the problem may be you. As the historical significance of the Erenne mark was lost, the application of that mark lost power; it became a symbol of ownership, but not a symbol of communion. It is clear to Androsse that Lord Nightshade held you in some esteem, or the mark could not be activated at all.
“You did not accept the weight and the truth of it, or of what it once was. He believes the reason the mark causes your cheek to bleed is your resistance. Annarion does not wish to pass this on; the mark is the cause of much conflict—and it was not applied as it once was by its creator. Itisa simple brand, as Lord Nightshade used it. I believe it was meant to warn Barrani of your value—and the consequences of harming you.
“But Arbiter Androsse is disgusted by that notion. Or perhaps angry. He is surprised that it functions at all. Serralyn adds that surprise is perhaps not his primary emotion. But he believes that you can reach Nightshade because of the Erenne mark and binding. At the moment you are on the outside of the barrier that prevents communication through the namebond.
“If you make proper use of the Erenne mark, you will be on the inside of that barrier rather than the outside of it. Or at least, that’s Androsse’s theory.”
Annarion paled. Clearly, Androsse had had more to say. He repeated none of it.
Helen took Mandoran’s role. “Arbiter Androsse is uncertain what effect Nightshade’s death would have on you, given the Erenne mark. As you haven’t fully accepted it, he thinks you might be safe.”
Might. What an awful word. “Did he explain any of that?”
“Not in so many words. In the best case for you—not for Nightshade—you will not be able to utilize that connection, and his death will merely cause the mark to disappear.”
“When is my life ever best-case? What’s the worst case?”
“You will die with him. He doesn’t think you are in that position now. You are left with two choices: accept the mark properly or reject it utterly. But in the latter case, Nightshade is almost certain to die.”
Kaylin fell silent. She understood the theory. If she could make contact with him at all, she could heal him. She couldn’t reach him through the namebond, but the connection from the Erenne mark persisted. If he were awake, if he were healed, he might be like the Consort; there would be no obvious, visible sign of the interference at all.
But the Consort’s decline had been subtle. Nightshade’s had been instant.
Annarion wouldn’t even meet her gaze; his shoulders were almost bunched up around his ears. He couldn’t ask her to do what Androsse said was necessary. She wasn’t even certain she could. She felt she’d accepted the mark’s existence; she didn’t even think about it anymore. Barrani with whom she interacted were familiar enough with it that they also ignored it.
An’Tellarus had barely lifted a brow, and Yvonne hadn’t seemed to assign significance to it either.
Kaylin lifted a hand to her cheek. It wasn’t bleeding at the moment, but it was warm where the Erenne mark lay.
How much more could she do to accept it?
If Androsse’s research was correct—and she was absolutely certain it was—the spell had been created by an Ancestor who wished to form a lasting bond with a person he loved. His power was such that the namebond was overwhelming, and the person he loved likely to be absorbed by it, changed by it, devoured by it.
Why he couldn’t just love the person, she didn’t know. Why did there have to be a mark at all? Why did there have to be visible proof of that bond? If love was what was felt between two people, why did it involve others at all?
But the Ancestors were basically Barrani to start—with longer, more complicated names. Ownership, claim, elements of power were things it might not occur to them weren’t necessary.