Cast in Sorrow

appearing in flat stone as the creature turned. His eyes were glowing green—as they had the last time she’d encountered him.

“Kitling!”

Iberrienne turned the whole of his attention toward where Kaylin stood. To her surprise, she saw that the folds of her dress were glowing—and they were almost the same color as Iberrienne’s eyes. It was the most disturbing thing about him now.

What was the blood of the green?

Iberrienne.

His hind-legs hunched; he intended to leap.

“Kaylin, move!”

She held her ground; every instinct screamed against it—but no. It wasn’t her instinct; it was his. He fought her. She was surprised when her arm developed sudden gashes, because Iberrienne hadn’t reached her. She cried out and raised her arms because she was wearing the damn dress and bleeding on it was bad.

It was unspecified bad. Iberrienne wasn’t. He’d coiled to spring; he even attempted to do it. But she held him—barely—in place; he staggered. The stagger brought his impressive jaws closer to her face.

The small dragon reared; he didn’t breathe and he didn’t leap free of her shoulder.

“Kaylin!”

She heard Teela’s sword strike the Feral. She heard it bounce, heard Teela’s angry Leontine fury. If she survived this, Teela would shake her until her teeth rattled.

But she pushed, and she pushed hard, and it hurt. It burned. Her thoughts spiraled out of her grasp, returning in shreds—she let them go. She held one thing at the center of her thoughts: a name. His name.

She met and held his gaze. The green of his eyes lost illumination, shifting as they drained of light, into blue. Barrani blue. He staggered, dropped belly to floor; his growls became whines. Beyond the fire and fury and killing rage, there was—emptiness.

She thought then that had she tried this on the uncorrupted Lord Iberrienne of the High Court, she would have died. “Teela, don’t! We need him!”

The Barrani Hawk lowered her sword; it appeared to take effort, as if gravity was pulling in the wrong direction. She didn’t sheathe it. She didn’t move. She stood to one side of the shrinking, black creature that was slowly dwindling, the strength of its external shape giving way to the more familiar form and figure of a Barrani man.

He was, unfortunately, naked. Kaylin couldn’t remember Ynpharion being naked.

“What,” Teela said, in a voice that made ice seem warm, “did you do?”

“I took his name,” Kaylin replied evenly. There was blood in her mouth. It was, of course, her own. “Can you do something about my arms?”

Teela’s eyes widened before they narrowed.

“I didn’t cut myself, Teela. And so far no blood on the dress.”

The Leontine curse was a comfort. “I do not know how you lived to be twenty.”

“Twenty-one. And I’m not certain mortal blood will count—do you think it will?”

Teela glared her into silence. She didn’t have random bandages on her person; the dining hall had tablecloths. She cut a chunk off one of them, and then tore it into strips.

“Is it clean?” Kaylin asked, looking dubious.

“It’s clean enough.”

Kaylin considering reminding Teela that bandages that were too tight were a problem, and decided against it because Iberrienne was stirring. “Grab the other tablecloth,” she said, wincing.

“Why?”

“He’s naked, Teela.”

“Yes, I’d noticed. I prefer it to what he was wearing.”

Kaylin flushed.

“You’ve seen far worse in the morgue.”

“None of those were alive.”

“True—but you won’t have to look at his internal organs unless he attempts to do something foolish. I trust a disembowled, dead man who happens to be naked will be less upsetting?” She prodded Iberrienne with her very booted foot.

Kaylin retrieved her daggers. “Are we out of danger?”

“If this creature was responsible for the fires, yes.”

“Lord Iberrienne,” Kaylin said.

He lifted his head. His eyes were blue; they were not, however, the shade she associated with Ynpharion’s eyes whenever they happened to meet hers. He blinked and looked around the dining hall as if seeing it for the first time; had he been human, she would have said he was suffering from shock.

Teela grimaced and sheathed her sword. Bending, she caught him by the upper left arm and yanked him more or less to his feet. He stumbled. “I do not believe this. If I have to carry you —”

The words penetrated the fog of his blank expression. “An’Teela?” There was an open expression of confusion on his face. She had never seen a similar one on a Barrani before.

Apparently, neither had Teela. “Kitling, what did you do to him?”

“I told you—I used his name.”

“How much resistance did he put up?”

She held up her cloth-covered arms, and then lowered them. “I don’t think it was resistance that caused this. I mean—I don’t think I did it.”

Iberrienne shook himself. Kaylin made her way to a table and pulled off a cloth, which she handed to him while Teela looked—for the first time this evening—faintly amused. Iberrienne took the cloth and draped it around his body. If he looked completely out of it, he was still Barrani; he looked better in a tablecloth than Kaylin looked in anything.

She tried not to resent it.

He wasn’t fighting her. Ynpharion, for the moment, was silent, as well. But he hadn’t been when she’d taken the name, pulling him back to himself. Iberrienne appeared to have no fight in him. Not yet.

“Iberrienne,” she said, her voice gentling for no reason she could put a finger on.

He nodded.

“Lord Iberrienne.”

“Lord...Kaylin.”

“We can’t find the Consort. Do you know where she is?”

He was silent. Kaylin wondered if she’d somehow bungled the naming. The small dragon bit her ear. She glared at him. He glared back.

“Kaylin.”

Kaylin began to lead Iberrienne in the direction Teela was walking. He offered no resistance—and no answers. She listened as she walked. Ynpharion put up a barrier of rage and humiliation every time her thoughts strayed close to his. She could crash through it—she knew that now—but she felt the pain she caused every time she did. He had never, on the other hand, caused physical wounds to appear anywhere on her body.

She wondered if he could.

“You’re Outcaste,” she told him quietly.

He nodded. She might as well have said, “Nice weather we’re having.”

“Teela?”

Teela glanced over her shoulder. “We have two halls. If the instructions you were given are valid, we should clear the halls and reach the courtyard in minutes.”

“I’m not sure the Lord of the West March is in the courtyard.”

Teela exhaled. In Elantran, she said, “As long as we’re not in a building that’s magically trapped and on fire, I’ll consider it a win.” She glanced at Iberrienne and then continued to lead.

“Teela?”