Cast in Sorrow

normally are?”

She hadn’t, and Teela knew it.

“The Warden risks much, this eve,” Teela said quietly. Ynpharion did not appear to be listening, but he was.

“With you or with Severn?”

Teela’s eyes were almost—almost—green. “With all of us, kitling. Lord Lirienne is not a risk, but you? Your corporal? Me?”

“Nightshade’s not here,” Kaylin offered.

“The risk Nightshade poses in the minds of all present is purely political. The risks we present are not. Avonelle is enraged.” The thought amused Teela. It shouldn’t, Kaylin thought. If she understood things correctly, Lord Avonelle was her aunt, her mother’s older sister.

“Barian will survive it.”

“Her rage, yes. But he will be guide. It is not without risk to him, either. There is a reason,” she added softly, “that permission to enter the heart of the green must be given. Only during the recitation is it entirely safe to walk here. The guardians choose those they feel present the least risk; they will not allow them to enter the green this way if they fear to anger the green.”

“But—but—”

“Yes?” She spoke the word as if it had two syllables.

“The tunnels. We can enter the heart any time we want. I mean, you can.”

Teela did laugh, then. It drew a lot of attention, and the attention bounced to Kaylin when it became clear that Kaylin was the cause of her mirth. “Is that what they told you?”

But Ynpharion was staring at them both. The thunderous beat of his rage had dimmed. “You walked beneath the green?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“When the Lord’s hall was attacked.”

“And you are here? Should you not be in the heart of the green?”

“She should,” Teela said, her amusement ebbing. “That, however, is not a subject to be discussed here; it is neither wise nor safe.”

Severn joined them. Teela glanced at him. “You risk too much, Corporal.”

“Kaylin wanted me here,” he replied.

Kaylin met his gaze and then found her feet very interesting. It was true. She thought he even knew why.

Iberrienne.

Closing her eyes, she said, I’m not a Wolf, Severn. I’m a Hawk. We both served the Emperor in our own ways. But—but—

Yes. You consider Iberrienne so damaged you now see him as a helpless child. You understand that that doesn’t change my duty?

She swallowed. Yes. Look, I know, believe I know what he did. I know how many people he killed. He didn’t consider their lives worth anything. If the fiefs were in our jurisdiction, he’d hang. He wouldn’t, but the Barrani would kill him. They didn’t suffer their own to be judged in the Imperial Court—and as Iberrienne’s victims were not Barrani, the Barrani High Court could not claim caste exemption and therefore caste justice. I know he deserves to be executed. I know.

Severn smiled; it was a shadowed smile. He was standing much closer to her than he normally did. Could you kill him?

I’ve killed, Severn. I’ve killed people who didn’t deserve to die. I worked as an enforcer for Barren. If every murderer deserves death—I deserve it, as well. Me. She could still see Iberrienne’s painfully open expression. Whoever he thinks he is now is not the man who did those things. He looks—helpless. Young. She swallowed. No. No, I couldn’t. I could have killed him—if I had the power—at any other time.

He exhaled, lifted a hand, touched her shoulder. The Consort is more important, for the moment.

I’m not sure the Emperor would agree with that.

The Emperor’s not here, and I have reasons of my own for entering the green’s heart.

* * *

It was another long half hour before those who were willing to follow the Lord of the West March were gathered. Not all of the Barrani gathered here were willing to take that risk; everyone who had come from the High Court, however, was.

None of those men was Nightshade.

No, he replied. I will stay with Iberrienne.

I won’t be able to—to call you.

He said nothing. She felt, of all things, anger. He was angry—but not with Kaylin. Not, she sensed, with Iberrienne, either.

“Warden,” the Lord of the West March said.

“Lord of the West March.” He frowned, and then his eyes narrowed. When he lifted them, he lifted them to sky. Kaylin, whose vision was nowhere equal to that of the Barrani, nonetheless saw what he saw. An eagle.

No, not one. Two. They circled, descending. Barian lifted an arm. Just one. He turned to Kaylin. “Lord Kaylin.”

But Kaylin shook her head. “It’s not me.”

Barian frowned.

Lirienne—lift an arm. Umm, please.

He was surprised, but did as she had asked. He raised an arm, bent at the elbow as Barian’s was. The two eagles landed then, one on each man’s arm.

“Warden,” one said. “Lord of the West March. Why have you come to the green?”

“I am guide,” the Warden said. “The Lord of the West March seeks to reach the Lady.”

The two eagles glanced at each other; they spoke. They didn’t speak in High Barrani. They didn’t speak in a language the Lord of the West March understood, either. She couldn’t tell, from Barian’s expression, whether he could.

But before they had finished their discussion, the small dragon squawked.

They turned their heads—only their heads, which looked so unnatural—toward Kaylin’s shoulder. The small dragon squawked again. He squawked loudly.

“Chosen,” the eagle on Barian’s arm said, “show me your hand.”

Kaylin blinked. She glanced at her hands. Clearly, she was tired; it took her a moment to understand why he’d asked. She lifted her left hand, palm out, toward the eagles. The eagle on Lirienne’s arm squawked. He then spoke to his companion.

“Warden,” one of the two finally said. “We are come to tell you that the wards will not wake.”

Barian froze. One or two of the men who served him froze, as well. “None of them?”

“There are two; green will hear you if you speak the words of waking and invocation while in their presence. You will lose much time if you walk the longest path; the two are the only wards that will now respond, although the propiciants bespeak the others now.”

“Which wards, eldest?”

“The seat,” the eagle replied. “The oldest seat.”

* * *

The answer meant nothing to Kaylin. She was clearly the only person here to whom it meant nothing.

It’s not a chair, Severn told her. It’s considered the center of both the West March and the green. It’s where the recitation takes place.

When you came here the first time—did you see the other runes the dreams are talking about?