Cast in Sorrow

you in the West March again.

Kaylin was halfway down the hall when Nightshade added, I am in your debt, Chosen.

* * *

When Kaylin returned to her room, Teela was in it.

“I assume Alsanis okayed this?”

Teela shrugged. Her arms were folded across her chest, and she stood—instead of lounging across a convenient flat surface. “I want to warn you not to interfere,” she said. “But I hate to waste my breath. What are you going to do with him?”

“Annarion?”

“Of course.”

“I’m not sure I’m going to tell you,” Kaylin replied, removing clothing as she made ready for sleep, attempt two. “Especially if I don’t want him to know.”

“She has you there,” another voice said. Mandoran appeared in the doorway, balancing a tray that had ten people’s worth of food on it.

Kaylin’s jaw dropped.

“What?” Teela said, slowly relaxing her arms. She glanced around the room and eventually ended up on the bed. Sideways.

“Nothing.” Kaylin stopped undressing and felt, for a moment, at home. Mandoran wasn’t Tain, but Teela was absolutely Teela. “Did you come to say goodbye?”

Mandoran laughed. Kaylin fell almost instantly in love with that laughter. It held affection, knowledge, and sheer delight.

Teela glared at him, which made him laugh louder.

“She’s not staying,” Mandoran said.

“If I weren’t feeling lazy,” Teela told him, “I’d leave. You could have my conversation for me and I’d be spared the effort.”

“You’re—you’re not staying?”

“Don’t make that face.”

“Your eyes are closed, Teela. You can’t see my face.”

“I have the expression etched in memory. And I can see what Mandoran can see when he’s not laughing so hard he’s crying.”

Which, of course, made him laugh more.

“I was going to stay. Not for long. But...I can hear them now. They can hear me. They can truly speak to each other. They don’t need me here. Whereas you?”

“I’m not a child.”

“No, of course not. If you were a mortal child you’d be under Marrin’s wing, in the foundling hall; I actually pity the people who are stupid enough to try to hurt any of her orphans. But you’re going to be living with a dragon. You have the Halls of Law. You’re no doubt going to have an ambitious and disenfranchised Barrani Lord, and you have the world’s most annoying pet.”

The small dragon squawked.

Mandoran’s eyes rounded just before he fell over laughing. “Don’t ask,” he said, holding up a hand. “I’m not going to tell you what he said; Teela would only kill him. Or try. Don’t worry about Teela,” he added. “She’s not like Annarion; she’s tough.”

“Annarion—”

“He believes in people. Even when Teela was one of us, she believed in no one but us, and it took her some time to come around. Annarion’s more optimistic.” His smile faded. “He’s very upset about his brother. We’re worried that he’ll do something stupid. So, Teela’s going back to Elantra with you.”

Kaylin was so grateful and so relieved she had no words. Which is why she didn’t miss the next thing Mandoran said.

“And I’m coming with her, too.”

“What?”

“Well, I thought I’d take a look at the High Halls, visit what’s left of my family, and maybe join the Hawks.”

“Do not make that face, kitling,” said the Barrani Hawk whose eyes were still closed. She was massaging her forehead. “He can’t possibly get into more hair-raising trouble than you did.”

“But he’s—”

“You were thirteen when you started tagging along with us. If you’re telling me Mandoran can get into more trouble than a cocky thirteen-year-old mortal...”

“Yes?”

“You’re wrong.” She opened her eyes. “Mandoran is leaving now.”

“Am I?”

“Yes. You can leave the easy way or the hard way.”

He laughed. “If it makes you feel better, Lord Kaylin, she’s not going back strictly because she’s terrified of the new ways you’ll attempt suicide.”

“I have never attempted—”

“It’s because of Eddorian. Iberrienne has not been declared Outcaste, yet. The Emperor—a Dragon,” he added, with genuine disgust, “has ordered his death. But the Barrani might be able to contest this; the execution is not a public matter. At least, if Teela’s right. She’s going to talk to the High Lord, the Hawklord, and possibly the Emperor. I think she thinks it would help you, as well, although we’re not quite clear how.”

Because Severn wouldn’t be sent out again. Severn wouldn’t have to kill Iberrienne.

Mandoran headed toward the door after Teela propped herself up on one elbow.

* * *

In the darkness of Alsanis’s night, Kaylin heard singing in the distance. She glanced at Teela, or at what she could see of Barrani profile. “Can you hear the Consort?”

“Yes. She has always had a beautiful voice.”

“Do you know the song?”

“Yes.”

“Teela—”

“You saved them. You saved them when they didn’t know they wanted to be saved. I didn’t know it, either. They were only barely aware of their names; not aware enough to use them. They couldn’t hear me—but they couldn’t hear each other, either. Now we can. They’re not what they were. But I’m not what I was.

“What we did was stupid. It was reckless. It was willful.”

“You mean the names?”

“You see? You have been paying attention.”

“Do you regret it?”

“No. I will. I’m certain I will. But, no.” She fell silent for a long moment. “I had no idea, when I picked you up in the Halls, that this is where it would lead.”

Kaylin closed her eyes.

“I think Nightshade had hopes—and that angers me.”

“Teela—”

“If you’re going to tell me that at least they were hopes you approved of, save your breath. Every criminal feels justified in his actions. Every single one. Are you going to keep interrupting me?”

“No.”

“Hah. Where was I? Even if I had known, I wouldn’t have risked you. If the choice had been mine, you would have been packed up and sent back to the Halls.”

“I had the dress.”