Cast in Conflict Read online

  Not that it had taken a great amount of investigation. The High Halls was, once again, a fully functional, sentient building. Barrani lords disliked being exposed to sentient buildings; they wanted to keep their thoughts and secrets to themselves. But rooms in the High Halls were a visible sign of rank and power. To abandon them was not as easily done as avoiding the interior of a waking Hallionne.

  The cohort had the advantage, there. They had spent almost the entirety of their lives as “guests” of a sentient building. They had no fear of their thoughts being known. Sedarias could move far more freely, far more comfortably, in the reconstituted High Halls than most of the Lords of the High Court.

  The cohort had been prisoners, but they had had each other, and the prison had become home. Kaylin was almost certain the Hallionne Alsanis missed them. Their life plans had been interrupted, not ended, although not all of Sedarias’s friends planned to take their rightful places among the High Court. They had landed on their feet after a very rocky start.

  Watching them, Kaylin finally accepted that Bellusdeo hadn’t.

  The Dragon was alive, yes. She was a friend. Where permitted by Imperial dictate, she had accompanied Kaylin into unpredictable danger. And thank gods for that.

  But everything beneath her feet now, to belabor the metaphor, was not her ground. Helen. Kaylin. The former Arkon, who was the only solid reminder of the home she had lost, had left the Imperial palace for good.

  Bellusdeo carried the future of her entire species in both hands. But that wasn’t who or what she was, either. Kaylin wondered if—hoped that—Bellusdeo’s daily jaunts toward the fiefs were visits to the former Arkon. That would be for the best.

  Which is why Kaylin couldn’t quite make herself believe it. It was too convenient, and that wasn’t how their life worked.

  “Helen, where’s Mandoran?”

  “I believe he and Terrano are in the training room.”

  Ugh. “Since that’s usually not all that safe, can you ask him to come up to the dining room?”

  “I can. You’ll probably get Terrano as well.” The sentence wasn’t a question, but the last few words tailed up as if it were.

  “That’s fine.”

  * * *

  Kaylin didn’t just get Terrano. She also got Fallessian and Torrisant. There were four members of Teela’s cohort of twelve that had remained almost entirely silent for their stay. Two had gone with Sedarias to the High Halls. Two remained with Helen, and had apparently also been in the training room with Mandoran and Terrano. It wasn’t likely to kill them.

  Teela, of the twelve, had a job she wanted to keep. She had offered to accompany Sedarias to the High Halls—but at hours that didn’t conflict with that job. Had she been afraid for Sedarias, she would have taken a leave of absence. She hadn’t.

  “Karian didn’t want to go,” Fallessian said, speaking as if he was recovering from a terrible cold. Kaylin couldn’t remember hearing him actually speak before, so the cold was unlikely the problem.

  “Didn’t want to go where?” she asked; she assumed the information had been offered to her because otherwise there was no point in speaking out loud.

  “The High Halls,” Terrano said.

  Kaylin shook her head and waited while Fallessian found exactly the same words Terrano would have used. “Sedarias was in a mood. Frankly, I’d find out where she was going and go in the opposite direction.”

  This pulled a glimmer of a smile from the still silent Torrisant.

  “Why did Karian go?”

  “Karian is the direct bloodline heir to Illmarin.”

  “Illmarin still exists, right?”

  “Yes. But it was tightly bound in fortune—and outcome—to the previous head of Mellarionne. Karian can, with Sedarias’s backing, take the line; he can become An’Illmarin.”

  “...and he doesn’t want that.”

  “It’s an ongoing discussion,” Mandoran said, before the more careful Fallessian could reply.

  “That means no,” Terrano added. “So—why did you call for us?”

  “I wanted him.” Kaylin pointed at Mandoran.

  “Then you got lucky—we come in a set.”

  “Believe that I’ve noticed that. You don’t have Serralyn or Valliant, though.”

  “Thank the Lady,” Terrano then muttered under his breath. “You have no idea—”

  “She does, dear,” Helen interjected. Helen didn’t bother to bring her Avatar into the dining room; she just used her voice.

  “Fine. Why did you want to speak to Mandoran?”

  Kaylin wasn’t comfortable with either Torrisant or Fallessian, but felt that was unfair. Clearly she tended to privilege noise—speech in this case—over other forms of quiet near-invisibility. Anything she asked Mandoran would be heard by all twelve of the cohort, no matter where they were or what they were doing. There was no such thing as a private discussion.

  Exhaling, Kaylin said, “Where has Bellusdeo been going in the past couple of weeks?”

  * * *

  “Why should we know that?” Terrano demanded.

  Kaylin folded her arms and met what might have been an annoyed gaze. She didn’t answer the question.

  Silence ensued, and it was broken by Mandoran. “You know what they say about Dragons, right?”

  “Which part?”

  “Do not get involved in the business of Dragons.”

  “Was there a why beyond the obvious?”

  “Yes, but it’s old Barrani and I didn’t study enough of it.”

  “Did anyone?”

  “Serralyn. She can come downstairs and enlighten you, if you want. But—there wasn’t a lot to study in Alsanis. Helen understands some of the Old Barrani, but—”

  “I understand only fragments. Old Barrani, unlike High Barrani, was considered a language for children, for children’s stories; High Barrani was the language of power and war.”

  “Is Serralyn going to the Academia to learn more?”

  “You can ask her.”

  Serralyn appeared in the open doorway. “It’s one of the things I want to study, yes. But—” and here, her eyes were a green so bright Kaylin almost couldn’t acknowledge the color as belonging to Barrani eyes “—there’s not a lot more to the old saying. I mean: Dragons. We’re Barrani. They were stories told to children. Dragons don’t like people messing with their stuff. Don’t mess with their stuff. That kind of thing.

  “But the language wasn’t just used for children’s stories. I’m certain that it was an entire functional language at one point.”

  “But I thought—”

  “I know. I think it was, in part, the language of the Ancestors.”

  “The ones that look like Barrani but cause way more trouble?”

  Serralyn grimaced. “Yes, them.”

  “And...if that’s true, it’s considered a language for children how?”

  Serralyn actually laughed. Kaylin had never heard her laugh before. “How do you say it? I know, right?”

  “That’s what I’d say, yes. You’re really looking forward to joining the Academia.”

  “I really am. It—” She shook her head. “I want to say it’s the dream of a lifetime, but that’s just not strong enough. The chancellor let one of the students—Robin—take us on a tour of the facilities. They had to pick me up and drag me out of the library!” She laughed again and added, “One of the librarians, Starrante, did all the heavy lifting. He’s a—”

  “Spider,” Kaylin supplied.

  “I don’t think that’s the accurate word for his race.”

  “I’m not sure I could pronounce the accurate word. Or that I even heard it.”

  “It’s another language that would be considered lost.”

  Kaylin’s enthusiasm for dead languages was minimal. Her enthusiasm for any learning that was
n’t demonstrably practical was equally minimal. She understood that there were people for whom this wasn’t the case, but had seldom seen someone as all-out excited as Serralyn.

  It almost made her reconsider her own position.

  Mandoran cleared his throat. “If you want to talk about dead languages and learning, that’s fine—but we’re trying to practice and you don’t need us here for that.”

  “Oh, right. Sorry.” Kaylin pulled her gaze away from Serralyn’s radiantly happy face. “I want to know where Bellusdeo has been going when I’m at work.”

  “Or at the midwives’ guild?”

  “She went out then?”

  Terrano and Mandoran exchanged a glance. Terrano said, “Why would you think he’d know? You could just ask Helen.”

  “I have. She cited guest privacy and told me exactly nothing.”

  Terrano snickered. “Why would you think we’d know?”

  “Because you’re already bored. It’s been two weeks since anything has tried to kill you—or us—and you’re fidgeting all the time. There’s no way Bellusdeo could sneak out of this house without one of you following her. It’s either you or Mandoran, but I’m betting on Mandoran—”

  “With real money?”

  “With my own money. I’m betting that one of you followed her.”

  “It’s not safe to follow a Dragon.” This was Fallessian again. She learned he could keep a perfectly straight face, because he did.

  Terrano couldn’t. His glance slid off Mandoran, who was grinning broadly.

  “Don’t take that bet,” he told Terrano. His eyes were green, his expression verging on smug. Kaylin wanted to kick him.

  “Where is she going?”

  “Tiamaris.”

  The fiefs. “Is she staying in Tiamaris?”

  “Harder to say.”

  “By harder you mean?” Kaylin frowned. “You can’t follow her without being detected. Tara can see you.”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Were you trying to practice moving without being detectable? Is that why you’re in the training room?”

  Mandoran grinned. “Terrano can sometimes slip by undetected—but it’s work. He has to kind of walk sideways.”

  Terrano snorted.

  “What? I’m trying to explain it to someone who can’t do it and has never seen it.”

  “If she’d seen it, it would mean we failed.”

  Kaylin exhaled and managed to keep words out of it. “So, as far as you know, she’s just heading into the fief of Tiamaris?”

  More silence.

  “Guys, I’m getting pressure from the new Arkon, and I do not want the follow-up to be ‘concerned’ Emperor.”

  “She’s a Dragon, in case you forgot. There’s precious little that can actually kill her, and anything that can will flatten the rest of us, starting with you. She’s not a hatchling. She’s got an eight-foot-tall giant as a trained puppy.”

  Kaylin did kick Mandoran then. He dodged.

  “—and she sure as hell doesn’t need us.”

  “And you’re following her because you’re bored.”

  The Barrani shrug was almost a fief shrug; clearly Mandoran had spent too much time with Kaylin. “Mostly bored.”

  “Mostly?”

  He now looked distinctly uncomfortable.

  Kaylin folded her arms. She couldn’t actually hurt Mandoran—or any of the cohort—without Helen’s help, and Helen was disinclined to give it.

  “Because you don’t really want to hurt him, dear,” Helen’s voice said.

  “You wouldn’t let me even if I did.”

  “I feel that you’d regret it, yes.”

  “Eventually. Spill.”

  “She’s been avoiding you,” Mandoran finally said. “She’s come down late to breakfast every morning; she won’t enter the dining room until you’ve run out the door. She comes home late for dinner, if at all. She’s been in a terrible mood—”

  “She hasn’t been angry,” Helen added, skirting the edge of her rules about privacy. “I would say she’s been unsettled since Lannagaros took the chancellorship of the Academia.”

  “Has she been visiting him?”

  No answer.

  “Is she doing anything dangerous?”

  “I’m sorry,” Helen said. Her apologies always sounded genuinely regretful. “If you want to know, you will need to discuss that with Bellusdeo.” She hesitated. Kaylin marked the hesitation.

  “Bellusdeo’s ignoring me.”

  “She’s avoiding you, which is not the same thing.”

  “What aren’t you saying?”

  It was Terrano who answered. “I think you might have a visitor. Well, not exactly a visitor.”

  “Make up your mind. And don’t think I’ve forgotten the original question.”

  “I think the person who’s generally supposed to be watching Bellusdeo—for her own safety—is actually standing across the street.”

  “Across the street isn’t part of Helen,” Kaylin very reasonably pointed out. “And you, and all the rest of your cohort, are standing inside of Helen’s boundaries.”

  “And?”

  “I believe she wishes to know how you could know that, dear.”

  “Oh. That? That’s easy. Sedarias.”

  “Sedarias.”

  “She’s almost at the door.”

  * * *

  Kaylin did not want to run out into the admittedly emptier, upscale streets on which Helen stood. She wanted to hear about Sedarias’s day at the High Halls, and wanted to know whether or not any of her cohort companions had actually had reason to, oh, draw their swords in an attempt not to die.

  None of the cohort, however, was willing to amble across that street unless they went in their full number, minus Teela, who had returned to her usual living quarters, which weren’t part of Helen. Kaylin thought sending twelve people, eleven of whom were Barrani, to address one observer was overkill. It would send the wrong message.

  “Sedarias thinks it’ll send exactly the right message,” Terrano said.

  “I do,” Sedarias said, joining the conversation that was already in progress.

  “I don’t,” Kaylin replied. She gave the five members of the cohort a brief but intense once-over; none of them appeared to be bleeding and all of their clothing seemed to be in the same state of repair it had left in. “Given the day you’ve probably had, I want to avoid the right message like the plague. If there’s an observer stationed outside, he means the cohort no harm. And frankly, Bellusdeo won’t appreciate it.” The latter was far more relevant, and not even Mandoran could argue that she would.

  Kaylin therefore rearranged Hope, who had been snoozing across her shoulders like a shawl made of scales, and headed toward the front door. “Can you see who it is?” she asked her house.

  “Yes. I do not believe it will cause you any problems.”

  * * *

  Kaylin could see the lone figure on the other side of the road from her open door. This would be because the fence line—and it was a pretty impressively solid fence—was part of Helen’s domain, and she’d decided to change some of the posts to lamps.

  The observer who was now in the glow of radiant and overdone lights—in Kaylin’s opinion—didn’t seem to be bothered by them. His hands were by his sides, and clearly free of weapons. His clothing was dark, but it was the dark of implied sobriety, not storybook assassins. His eyes were almost gold.

  Kaylin exhaled as Hope sat up on her left shoulder and let out a squawk.

  “Well met,” Lord Emmerian replied.

  02

  “Bellusdeo isn’t home,” Kaylin said, after offering Emmerian a passable bow.

  “I know.”

  “You have someone else following her?”

  “It is the duty I was tas
ked with.”

  “And you’re standing outside on the street just waiting?”

  Emmerian smiled, the movement of lips brief but genuine. “As you can see.”

  “How long have you been standing here?”

  “Not too long.”

  “That’s not exactly a precise measure.”

  “No.” His smile deepened.

  “Fine. She’s been avoiding me. I guess it would make sense that she’s avoiding you as well. You might as well come in.”

  * * *

  Helen’s Avatar greeted Lord Emmerian at the door. Emmerian offered her a perfect, deep bow, before he rose. It was Helen who then led him to the parlor. Today, the parlor was small enough that the cohort couldn’t all pile in—they wouldn’t fit, for one.

  They’d fallen entirely silent, for two, which meant they were having strategic discussions about the near future—or near in immortal terms. Helen could, of course, hear them talk, and Helen tended to strongly dissuade them from doing things she felt were unwise.

  Unwise from Helen generally meant catastrophic.

  “I’ve been trying to find out where Bellusdeo’s been going,” Kaylin said. “But the most specific answer I’ve managed to dig up is: Tiamaris.”

  “It is where her people—what remains of them—now live,” Emmerian replied. “I believe that she has also visited Lannagaros, but he has, as you can imagine, been quite busy of late. He always claimed to be busy, but he was busy with his personal studies; he could be interrupted, if not with any grace.”

  “He was always happy to see Bellusdeo.”

  “Ah, yes. He made allowances for Bellusdeo; similar allowances were not made for the rest of the Dragon Court. The Emperor could summon him, and he would obey—but no one else dared. Lannagaros had quite the temper. He does not, at the moment, have leeway to make the same allowances. The Academia is open, but it requires students; it requires teachers and academics. There are several Barrani sages who have petitioned him, and several members of the Arcanum.”