Cast in Sorrow

mentioned, considered insignificant. He could not refuse.”

Something about the way she said this felt subtly wrong, but Kaylin couldn’t put her finger on what.

“He therefore did not refuse. He was not from an insignificant line,” she added softly, “so he could not be disposed of in a more convenient way—but the Lord in question felt a lost challenge would serve his purpose.” She was smiling again.

“You didn’t know this man.”

“No. As I said, it was just before my time. But I understood the condescension with which the West March was—and often is—viewed. During the fight itself, the harmoniste was injured. This was not unexpected.

“His robes, however, were cut, and the blood from the wound seeped into the fabric.”

Kaylin looked down at her lap with a growing sense of discomfort. “What happened?”

“Fully half of the party that had set out from the High Halls perished.”

“But—but from what?”

“The green,” Teela replied softly. “I told you—the Lord in question had set out from the East only when word of the significance of the recitation had reached his ears. There are always ambitious Lords; our party was larger when it arrived in Bertolle than it had been when it set out.”

It wasn’t, now; they had lost many in the attempt to reach Orbaranne through the portal paths.

“He arrived at the edge of the green; he did not make his challenge until he was within the lands ruled by the Lord of the West March. He was not in the heart of the green, but he was upon it.

“The green chooses. The green chose you.”

“Teela,” Kaylin said, with some frustration, “just what exactly is the green?”

The door opened. Teela stretched her legs, stretched her arms, and grinned as the servants entered the room. They carried slender silver trays, which they set upon the table to one side of Teela’s feet. Even Kaylin was appalled.

The servants, however, said nothing. They didn’t look surprised, shocked, or disgusted. They offered Kaylin sweet water and wine; Teela took the wine. Kaylin waited until the servants had left the room before she turned on Teela.

“I would pay everything I could earn in a year,” she said, “if you had to take etiquette lessons with Diarmat!”

Teela laughed. “Kitling, if you could only see your expression. Don’t eat that,” she added, as Kaylin picked up what she assumed was some kind of strange fruit. “I know you’re not picky, but you won’t like it.”

“Why not?”

“You will find it very spicy. It’s sweet,” she added, with a mild frown, “and you have a weakness for sweet food—but there’s a subtle spice that clings to the tongue, and you’ve never been fond of spicy food.”

Kaylin set it aside. There was enough food here she could afford to be picky. “What is the green?” She needed to know.

“I have never fully understood it myself. It is not the Hallionne, either separately or in concert, although it works through them; I believe it is part of them, and they are part of the green. They are whole in and of themselves.” She hesitated, as if searching for words—which was unusual for Teela. “You’re Elantran.”

Kaylin nodded.

“You live in the city. But you are not the city.”

Kaylin nodded again.

“The Emperor also lives in the city; he claims it, rules it, and hands down its laws. But if he perished, the city would not perish with him.”

Given what it would take to actually kill the Emperor, Kaylin wasn’t as sure this was true. “The green is—is like a city?”

“Like a sentient city,” Teela replied. “It is a place. It has geography. It has laws and rules and customs. We,” she added, refilling her glass, “are merely the least of its citizens. We do not make the laws; we merely live—as most of the people in Elantra do—by them. If there is an Emperor, or his equivalent, we—again, like most of Elantra’s citizens—will never meet him.

“But cross him, break his laws, and his anger is felt. The green is like the Hallionne, and unlike. I don’t believe it hears our thoughts when we are in its domain; nor does it interfere in our lives in immediate, visceral ways. But it can. On that day, it did. Not all of the men who died intended to strip the chosen harmoniste of his role; the anger of the green is not so directed. No one will try to kill you while you wear that dress.

“But, kitling, do not bleed on it.”

“I didn’t exactly stab myself,” Kaylin replied.

Teela fell silent, and not in a good way. She rose, and began to pace. The Barrani Hawk could pace for hours. She could wear ruts in stone. She had, when she chose, a light, graceful step that belied her size. Clearly that wasn’t her choice today. “I swear, I will strangle Nightshade myself.”

“After he’s finished the telling.”

Teela laughed. “Of course. I know the anger of the green quite well.”

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing. Nothing you need to know, kitling.”

Kaylin looked down at her hands. “Tell me about the others.”

“The others?”

“You’re stalling.”

Teela chuckled. “You are not my keeper. I am not stalling; I am considering what you usually do with information you shouldn’t have.”

“Meaning?”

“You run full tilt into the heart of things. You let your fears propel you. You have the caution of a mortal child—what is the word again?”

“Toddler,” Kaylin answered reflexively, and found annoyance after the two syllables had left her mouth.

“Toddler. Why do you think I hear Alsanis? Don’t frown like that—your face will get stuck that way. Immortal faces don’t.”

“I saw them, there.”

Teela didn’t ask who. “Where?”

“I think I was walking through either the dreams or the nightmares of Alsanis. I was trying to find the Consort at the time.”

“With full hands.”

Kaylin grimaced. “Yes. The full hands aren’t important here.” She fell silent. “Maybe they are. I was carrying words. I mean—runes. Like the marks on my skin.”

“Like?”

“Two of the marks on my skin. I needed to take them with me. I needed to take them to the Consort—don’t ask me why. I just did. But—I didn’t find the Consort immediately; I had to fly through —”

“Fly?”

“Well, the small dragon had to fly, but in the dreaming, his wings were larger. Anyway, there was a city there, eventually. On the walls of a gigantic pit. We landed in a tall building—that’s when I twisted my ankle. The Consort was there, but to get to her we had to walk down the side of a ridiculously long courtyard. I was still carrying the words.

“And I found statues along that wall. They were—they looked like they were—made of glass. They were Barrani, Teela. There were eleven in all: two women, nine men. It’s funny,” she added. “I had the hardest time telling Barrani apart when I first joined the Hawks. They all looked the same to me. I mean, women looked different from men, but—you were almost the same height, with the same eyes, the same hair, the same general facial characteristics.

“But...the statues, absent of color, didn’t. If I saw them again, I would know them.”

“You’re thinking again. I can hear it.”

“Very funny. I saw one of the lost children in the forest on the way to Bertolle.”

“And you recognized him, cast in glass.”

“No. That’s the strange thing. I didn’t recognize him.”