“But Terrano waited where he was because he was afraid of what he might drag back.”
Mandoran shook his head. “I understand you believe that—and it was probably a good idea—but he didtryto evade bysidestepping. He couldn’t. I’ll take us back—it might be a bit bumpy.”
Mandoran looked at Nightshade’s hand, or at Kaylin’s hand. The two weren’t separate. “What happens if you let his hand go here?”
“Should I try?”
Mandoran nodded.
Kaylin released Nightshade’s hand. Nothing changed. He remained visible—at least to Kaylin. “Can you still see him?”
“He’s still here,” Mandoran replied. “And yes, as you’ve guessed, he shouldn’t be.” He exhaled. “Annarion’s worried—but this is a better worry. Terrano’s right—we don’t know enough. Knowing more means we have to take calculated risks.”
“Does Terrano strike you as the type of person who can calculate anything?”
In the darkness, Mandoran’s grin felt bright. “He didn’t appreciate that question.”
“He can’t really argue with it, can he?”
“He’s not trying.” Mandoran’s expression darkened. “We have to go back. Terrano’s making noise, and he’s arguing with not only Helen but Sedarias. I can barely hear myself think.” He grimaced. “...Sedarias said I can’t hear myself think because I hardly ever do.”
Kaylin thought this was unfair. Mandoran and Terrano appeared similar in their approaches to their lives, but Mandoran was far more aware of other people, and the way his actions might affect them. Terrano was almost entirely without malice—but so were tidal waves and earthquakes. “Is Teela joining in?”
“No. But that’s also causing a bit of friction. We all know she went with you to the Consort; we don’t know what was actually discussed. Sedarias is making guesses—but Teela is the only one of us who’s good at shutting people out. We’re terrible at it; we never felt a need to do so.” He winced. “Teela isnow telling Sedarias to leave you alone. Meaning: don’t bother Kaylin. Helen has just joined the discussion.”
“Is it really a discussion?”
“Barely.”
“Are you sure we should go back right now?”
“Annarion isn’t part of the fracas. He’s listening with half an ear. He trusts that if the Consort’s discussion was relevant—somehow—to his brother, you’ll do everything you can to act on it. It’s better if you close your eyes.”
“I can’t afford to miss anything that might give us a bit more information about the current situation.” She kept her eyes on Nightshade the entire time. Not on herself, not on Hope—although technically he was closest to her because his wing covered her eyes—but on Nightshade.
Mandoran began to move her out of the space they now occupied. It wasn’t seamless; she could see the jerkiness of the movement in the way Nightshade’s unconscious body flickered briefly around the edges. Her Marks remained steady, a golden light that implied warmth in a darkness that radiated cold. She could feel the air shift across her skin.
“Could you tell Serralyn it’s an emergency?”
“She already knows. She says there’s a bit of a line to visit the library because the library has been shut down a number of times in recent days. But she’s working on it. If you’ve got other questions, it’s best to ask them now.”
To Kaylin’s surprise, it wasn’t noisy in the room; it was dead silent. Annarion was seated beside her—and he had an arm around her shoulder, as if expecting her to fall.
The sad thing was, she almost did. She felt as if she’d suddenly been dropped; it wasn’t the type of fall that could kill her, but it did cause the butterfly-in-stomach feeling of a longer than safe drop.
“Sorry,” Mandoran said, as if he, too, felt like he was falling, even though they were on solid ground. “It was harder to concentrate becausesome peoplecan’tshut upand let me think!”
Annarion winced and turned fully toward Kaylin. “Your cheek is bleeding.” His eyes were a dark, dark blue, and anger had joined the worry that had been a rigid mask since Nightshade had arrived.
Right. Her cheek. “Is it the Erenne mark?”
“You really don’t know how to choose your words, do you?” Mandoran said, but he turned toward Sedarias and Teela, who stood in the outer room, glaring at each other. Sedarias had Terrano’s arm in a tight grip, as if she expected him to flee without warning before she’d finished. Fair enough. Kaylin expected the same.
“The Erenne mark didn’t exist on the path we moved to,” Kaylin told Annarion. She understood that the mark underpinned his bitter disappointment with his brother, but it didn’t matter. The mark existed, now. Neither of them could change the past. And it was a clue, a link, between Annarion’s brother and Kaylin, because the namebonddidn’t work.
Annarion stood on the edge between disgust and desperation. Kaylin’s words pushed him over, to the right side. “It wasn’t there?”
“Mandoran couldn’t see it. But my cheek was bleeding, regardless. It didn’t hurt. I couldn’t feel it. But... the blood that fell here, fell there.”