“Ask.”
“Is the sentience at the heart ofRavellonan Ancient?”
The silence spread. The movement of breeze, the rustle of the stalks of wildflowers and taller grass, ceased immediately. Ariste looked as she’d looked when Kaylin first climbed the stairs leading to her space—Kaylin couldn’t call it a room—butHope was now rigid, and when he lifted a wing to cover Kaylin’s eyes—both eyes—she could see what she suspected Terrano always saw.
Ariste was not a single body. What Kaylin had seen upon entering this space was real—but it was not, would never be, the entirety of what Ariste was. Looking through Hope’s wing, she could see Ariste as if Ariste was standing in a long hall of mirrors, none of which reflected her truly: in one, she was shorter, in one, wider, in one far taller; in one she was paler, in one she was darker, and in one she was not a woman at all. Beyond that, spreading out into infinity, those reflections continued to shift and change; it was dizzying, or should have been.
Hope’s wing wasn’t covering her ears, but she couldhearthe words these other images spoke; they were part of Ariste’s voice, almost one with it, as if her speech were their anchor.
“You allow your familiar to interfere,” Ariste said, speaking now in High Barrani.
“I trust him with my life, he’s saved it so often,” Kaylin replied. “Can you become any of those images?”
“Images?” Ariste raised a brow as if in confusion. Her eyes widened slightly. “You are looking beneath the surface. How unusual. Yes. I can. I can, as Terrano implied, become anything. Your brightest daydream. Your darkest nightmare. I prefer the daydream—but joy and delight are so delicate they are easily shattered. Nightmares produce a fear and dread that lingers for far, far longer.
“Abel once said we were created to be communicators. In some fashion, that is true. But all the creations of the Ancients require sustenance. Our sustenance was the reaction of our audience, our partners. We had no children, not even as Barrani do; the Ancients did not consider such an ability a necessity when they first birthed us. We are alive, yes—but not as you, or even the Barrani, are alive.
“If you desired it, I would entertain you with stories of my lives and my many confidants—but I do not believe Abel would allow me the chance.”
“Her life is too short as it is,” the Avatar of the Halls replied. “You chose to confine yourself within the High Halls, which is free from the influence ofRavellon. But something is moving in those barricaded streets. Something has been called out, and its influence is growing. The Chosen might require your aid or your knowledge in the near future if she is to survive.”
“It is not the Chosen for whom you are concerned.”
“You are wrong. She is not my only concern, and perhaps not my chief concern—but I am, as you are, what I was made to be. We were not created from nothing; by the time such defenses as we were required, the Ancients understood that they did not fully understand theliving. The creation of life? Yes. But living? No. I knew of you,” he added, his voice softening. “Allknew of you, in that ancient time.
“But none knew you well. Who could know so much without encompassing your life? I am certain there were those who chose to serve, constantly, for just that chance. But even I cannot see the whole of you or know all of your secrets.”
“They are not secrets,” Ariste replied. “But I have lived many lives, some so distant they are hard to recall without will and effort. I live in the world—I lived in the world—and the world changed constantly around me. I respond to change; I must, to do what I do.” Ariste turned to Kaylin, and as she spoke, notes once again graced her words, although they were softer and somehow more elegiac in feel.
“I do not have the answer to your question. But I will say this: my service, if compelled, was half-willingly given because thatismy nature. I listened. I attempted to speak, to communicate. What one hears, one is influenced by; what one says will influence others—sometimes with no intent on our part. I donot know what the ruler ofRavellondesires. But I will say this: toyou, Chosen, it should not matter.”
“We can’t fight something we can’t even understand,” Kaylin replied.
“Ariste does not condescend,” the Avatar told her. “Do not interpret their words in that fashion. Your duty is to protect and prevent. Do your duty. Had you the power when you first visited this Tower, you might have destroyed Ariste. Ariste would not resent it, nor would they cast blame.”
Looking at Ariste through Hope’s wing was giving her a headache, and it was only getting worse. There was too much to see, and none of it remained still; small movements, large movements, sudden turns occurred hundreds and hundreds of times a second, and her gaze was caught, darting between the planes that Hope’s wing revealed. But the words spoken were the same, no matter the form or place they came from. “Have you been teaching Terrano?”
Ariste’s smile was sharp; not all faces offered it. But they turned toward Kaylin as if the question had caught all of their many attentions. “We have been learning from each other.”
Terrano said nothing.
“Did you show him that path to walk in the borders of the fiefs?”
13
Ariste’s smile was sharp, almost harsh; her answer was discordant, sounds jumbling together as if the notes were physical and Kaylin’s question had shattered their ability to move smoothly between one and the next.
“I did. You would not, or should not, note a difference. Is your question an accusation, Lord Kaylin?”
Was it? She glanced briefly at Terrano’s profile; his expression was rigid. But his petulant desire to leave didn’t have the hallmarks of actual anger—more the usual Terrano boredom. If he suspected that he’d been led—indirectly, by Ariste—into an ambush that had almost killed him, it didn’t show.
Abel said nothing.
“It’s not an accusation, not yet. I’m gathering information, as you said. It’s what I was trained to do. Were there more of your people inRavellonbefore the fall?”
“Yes. Two. There were three of us, in the end; only three survived. It is far, far too easy for those such as I to disintegrate into disparate parts, to become multiple but less. I have chosen to aid Abel where it is possible; Abel can see and sense all of the spaces in which I might stand. But his knowledge lacks refinement. I did not intentionally teach Terrano, but Terrano—as you must know—goes where he pleases, when he pleases. Hewishes to learn with a ferocity seldom seen in the young; his focus is singular.
“It was not my intent that he walk into danger. It was not my intent to teach him at all; he is too slight to bear the burden of a life of pathways. But it was his intent to learn, regardless, as if the ability itself proved his worthiness. He is notwise. But Abel desires that he survive to eventually become so.”