Cast in Sorrow

anywhere.”

“What happened when you were chosen as harmoniste?”

Teela stared into the vast and empty nothing for a long moment. She turned back in the direction they’d come from—if it was the same direction. They’d walked some distance, but even so, the trees should have been visible. They weren’t, of course. At this particular moment, Kaylin didn’t care.

“I had avoided the West March; I had avoided the green. It was the locus of so many of my losses. I lost my childhood, my friends, and the mother whose love I had always trusted. I lost my father in a different way. We are not—any of us—adept at facing the first loss.

“My father did not trust me—but that is as it should be, in the end. Most of the Lords you will meet who are the heads of their lines became so only after the deaths of their parents. Many of those deaths occurred during the Dragon wars—but some were suspicious, regardless. And that, too, is an accepted part of succession.

“It is not accepted among your kind; when it is done, it is hidden, kitling. It is considered both shameful and a crime. But you have that luxury—your parents will die. They will age into their dotage. They will loosen their grip on the reins of power because they have no choice. Were you all to live forever? I do not believe that you would be so very different from my people.”

“Less beautiful, less strong, and less graceful.”

“Of course. I did not care that my father did not trust me,” she added. “I considered it wisdom. But I could not afford the suspicion of the other Lords. And so, in time, I took the risk of returning to the West March, to face the past and all its barbs and losses, and to prove that I was stronger than my pain.” She walked more quickly, and Kaylin had to work to keep up.

“And I did.”

“What was the story?”

“The story?”

“You were harmoniste.”

Teela nodded.

“You were—I’m—supposed to take the strands of story from the Teller.”

“Yes.”

“There was a Teller.”

“Yes. You don’t get a story, kitling. You get disparate parts of a thousand stories. You get fragments, you get names and places and small items—it’s like having a hail of rocks thrown in your direction. You have to survive the hits; you have to catch enough of the rocks that you can build something from them. While being hit. It’s not trivial. I was arrogant,” she added. “I was full of defiance, rage, loss. I don’t know if that affected what I could hear or see; I don’t know if that affected the pieces I chose, the direction I took.

“But I survived, kitling. I was not transformed; nor, to my eye, were any of the very few participants that year.” This was said with a much sharper smile.

“Teela—what did you do?”

“I listened. I listened, I watched. I wanted to hear their names again. Their names were lost here. Everything about them was. I wanted to hear them call mine again. Just that.”

“But Terrano recognized you.”

“Yes.”

“He was on the road. He was with the Ferals.”

“Yes, Kaylin. Yes. He was there, and he was everything I remembered. Everything—but I could not reach him. And he couldn’t reach me. He had memories. But not—not what we promised. Not what we gave each other.” She frowned. “I think,” she said softly, “that that’s where we need to go.” She pointed.

Kaylin’s eyes were not Barrani eyes. She squinted. But she couldn’t make out what Teela could. Not until they had walked at least another mile.

She did stop, then. It was, to her eye, a pit.

Chapter 18

“What,” Teela said, when Kaylin began to move again, “do you recognize?”

“It’s probably nothing,” Kaylin replied.

“I cannot believe that you expect me to bare my figurative soul when you cannot even bring yourself to answer the most obvious of questions. If you are going to demur, at least learn to lie with some competence; give me the option of feeling less insulted.” She batted the top of Kaylin’s head.

“Sorry. I don’t want to think about it because I’m hoping I’m dead wrong.”

“And what are the odds against that?”

“Generally pretty high. Just—not here.”

“Exactly. What do you recognize?”

“When I woke the Consort the first time—after she absorbed the nightmares—I spent a lot of time floating around a sky full of stupid words. I mean, they were in theory my words because they’re all over my skin—but you know, larger and floating in the sky. I knew I had to choose one mark.”

“Knowing you, I’m surprised you managed to do it.”

Kaylin reddened. “I took two.”

“Ah. That sounds more realistic.”

“When I had them, the small dragon kind of dived. Toward a pit. It looked small. It wasn’t. It was huge. It was—” She frowned. “I think, if you could take the sides of the pit and flatten them, they’d be much larger than Elantra.”

“So you’re saying this pit is a lot farther away than it looks.”

“I’m saying I really, really, really don’t want this pit and that one to be the same, because I don’t have wings in reality, and I can’t fly.”

“This is not reality, in case you were wondering. It is—think of it as the inside of a Hallionne’s heart. I believe you did spend some time at the heart of Bertolle. You will find, if it is necessary, that you will either be able to fly, or I will.” She frowned. “What else are you not telling me?”

“The pit is where I saw them,” Kaylin whispered.

Teela did not pretend to misunderstand her.

“I think—I’m sure—I know who Sedarias was. And this isn’t really getting us to water—” Kaylin fell silent.

“Let me guess,” Teela said. “There was a fountain there.”

Kaylin nodded. “The Consort was by the fountain. She was—she was singing to it, the way she sang to Kariastos and Bertolle and Orbaranne.” She bit her lip and stopped moving.

“Kitling—”

“I saw you there. You were there. But—you were made of ice, where they were made of glass—and Teela—”

“Don’t feel compelled to share the rest; I no longer require it.”

“What I don’t understand is, what was Iberrienne trying to do to Orbaranne? I don’t think he meant to just destroy her—or rather, he wanted something from the process.”

“That is not the only thing you don’t understand.”

“Well, no. But—if Iberrienne was somehow doing it because of Eddorian, he was doing what the lost children want. What do they want, Teela?”

“This may come as a surprise to you, but I don’t know. They don’t want what I want, because, Kaylin, I have the name I was born for.”

“It’s got to be something to do with names. With True Words. I don’t get it.” Kaylin ground her teeth.

“You are such a Hawk.” It was said with amusement, affection, and a touch of frustration.

Teela slid an arm around Kaylin’s shoulders and began to drag her toward the distant pit. It made Kaylin feel young again, but without the resentment and the insecurity. Her feet left a short trail in the dirt.