Cast in Sorrow

She glanced at Teela; Teela didn’t look even vaguely surprised; nor did she look worried. “Are all of the wards trees?”

“No, but many of them are. Would I be wasting breath if I counseled caution?”

Kaylin nodded absently as she walked toward a tree. The Barrani made way for her, which was unusual enough that she should have been surprised. But she was focused on the problem at hand. She saw no runes and no writing anywhere around the trunk of the tree; nor did they become visible when she craned her head up.

She examined the second tree in the same way, with the same results. The small dragon squawked at her from above, which was a small improvement over the ear-biting, if she ignored the large Barrani audience.

“Lord Barian, are these wards now considered active?”

“They are not wards in the modern sense of the word,” he replied.

“Meaning?”

“They allow the green to exist in a stable state. Without the wards, crossing the green is a difficult task; it is like—and unlike—the journey through the portal paths.”

“But we were here.”

“The dreams of Alsanis led us here.”

“So—they’re not like door wards in any way?”

“No.”

“Good.” Kaylin reached out her left arm and placed her left palm very firmly on the nearest section of trunk.

* * *

Nothing happened. Her palm felt warm—not hot, and not itchy—but warm. She looked up, peering into the crowd, and met Teela’s steady, blue gaze. It got bluer. In Aerian, Kaylin said, “I don’t think we’ll find the Consort in time, Teela. I don’t understand the green. I don’t understand the regalia. I don’t understand what happened the day you were brought here with eleven other children.

“But I get that they mean for you to be involved, even if you’re not the Teller or the harmoniste. We don’t figure this out, we don’t find her. I know you can survive a lot longer than I can without food—and without heat or air, as well—but a lot longer is not all that significant.”

In Aerian, Teela replied. “The green doesn’t react to me the way it reacts to anyone else here.”

“Join the club.”

Teela’s lips twitched. “If you have cause to regret this, you’re not blaming me.”

“Not for that, no.” Kaylin’s frown was a very familiar expression in the office. “But I have to ask you: Are you getting paid for this leave of absence?”

Teela headed toward the far tree without answering the question.

That was well-done, kyuthe.

What was?

Not one man here—or woman—could achieve what you have just achieved. Please tell me that it was not done in ignorance.

Kaylin said nothing. She felt Lord Lirienne’s amusement, but it was slight; beneath it, worry, anger, and very real fear made ready to swallow it whole. He didn’t attempt to hide these things from her; he hid them from his kin because he was Lord of the West March.

Kaylin placed her palm against the tree bark for a second time. She did so while facing the other tree. Teela approached it without obvious hesitation, and when she was standing in pretty much the same position that Kaylin was, she nodded. Lifting her arm—her right arm—she placed her palm firmly against the tree’s trunk, as well.

Nothing happened.

Nothing happened until the small dragon suddenly shrieked, folded his wings, and dropped in a dead man’s dive toward the center of a solid stone basin. Kaylin froze, her eyes rounding, her jaw dropping; she forgot to breathe.

“Kitling!”

Kaylin looked up; she saw Teela’s eyes; the color unmistakable even at this distance: they were gold.

* * *

The small dragon didn’t strike the stone basin and splat against it. He passed through it. He passed through it as if it were liquid. She pulled her hand from the tree and ran for the basin, lifting the skirts of her dress, although the dress had never impeded movement.

She stopped herself by running into the basin’s lip.

“Kaylin.”

She looked up. She looked up to see Teela—and only Teela. Every other person in the clearing had disappeared. Teela casually detached herself from the tree and headed toward Kaylin.

“Can you see anyone else?” Kaylin asked her as she drew close.

“Besides you?” Teela spoke Elantran.

“Besides me.”

“No.”

“Well, at least we’re on the same page.”

“We probably won’t be if you aren’t more careful. Are you trying to bash your face in?”

“What? No. I’m trying to see where the dragon went.”

“I’m sure he’ll find us.”

“Oh? How?”

“He’s enough of a pain it might be convenient if he stayed away. It’s the way my luck has generally worked.”

Kaylin snorted. She looked at the clearing. The heart of the green hadn’t appreciably changed; it was still definitively not-green. The trees, however, were no longer glowing.

Lirienne? Nightshade?

Silence.

“I don’t suppose there are any convenient doors?”

“Not that I can see,” Teela replied. She stretched her arms and yawned; she looked incredibly feline. “But we might as well start looking. My guess is that this is as much of an invitation as we’re going to get. You are going to explain what the dreams said, right?”

“Which part?”

“The part about bleeding. Or rather, the ‘bleeding now.’”

“Oh, that part.” Kaylin winced. “When we hit the tunnels to escape the attackers, we came to a giant, underground trunk. I mean, tree trunk. With roots the size of a small building. Did you see that when you were there?”

Teela was dead silent. It was the wrong silence, but with Teela, it often was. “What makes you think that I’ve been in those tunnels?”

“Well, Serian said...something. I don’t know. I got the impression that everyone in the West March had seen them.”

“The inferences you draw from a few words would cause most people to shut up forever. Not every citizen of the West March has had cause to seek the judgment of the green. It is not a guarantee of survival, and only when they face certain death—or worse—will they surrender to it.”

“And you—”

“No. I have—I had—my own reasons. This is the first time since the end of my childhood that I have willingly surrendered anything to the green.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re an idiot,” she replied. “I should have known. The moment Nightshade attempted to make his deal, I should have known.”

“I don’t think Nightshade—”

“Don’t think he what? You don’t think he planned this? You don’t think he manipulated you into the position you now hold?”

“Teela—how could he? The green chooses. He couldn’t have known that the green would choose me. He