Cast in Flight by Michelle Sagara
“I didn’t have a Name the way Barrani do. Whatever was being tested, it wasn’t me, precisely.”
He had taken exactly zero comfort from the words, and Kaylin had stopped trying. But as she placed her right foot on the grand, wide stairs that led into the tranquility and perfection of the High Halls, she wondered why anyone would voluntarily subject themselves to this.
Teela, dressed in forest green, her hair caught and held by combs of diamonds and platinum, looked entirely at home. The Hawk was nowhere in sight; to look at her, she was a Lord of both power and significance. She wore rings. She made Kaylin wear the one ring that the Barrani Lords would recognize. Usually, the ring was kept in a box under her bed. In Kaylin’s childhood, wearing something obviously valuable had been an invitation for throat slitting and theft. She understood that this was no longer true, but old habits died hard. Best not to stick out. Best not to be noticed.
She couldn’t help being noticed here; she was mortal. She wasn’t the only mortal—Severn was beside her—but it didn’t matter. There was nowhere she could walk in this getup that wouldn’t draw or demand attention, but in the High Halls, it wasn’t the clothing that attracted the stares. It was the mortality.
Mortals were only barely considered people by some of the old-school hardliners. Were it not for the fact that the Eternal Emperor considered them people, Kaylin doubted most of the Barrani would; at best, they’d be pets. It annoyed her, but annoyance ran a distant second place to survival. She kept her annoyance to herself.
She forced herself to consider the elements of her silent presentation: her posture, the way her arms hung at her side, the tilt of her head, her chin, the speed of her movements. Elegance, apparently, involved an absence of urgency. Diarmat’s Dragon voice was ringing in her ears, and she almost missed him. She certainly missed Bellusdeo.
Had Bellusdeo chosen to accompany them, no one would have given Kaylin or Severn a second glance, or possibly even a first one. She blinked when a man she did not recognize bowed before Teela. Teela’s eyes had shaded from green to a green blue the moment the carriage had pulled to a stop, but that was normal for the High Halls.
“Lord Teela, Lord Kaylin, Lord Severn. The Lady bids you welcome.”
Kaylin relaxed, but only marginally. She had offended the Lady on a previous occasion, and had since managed—barely—to work her way back into the Consort’s good graces. She was afraid to spend time with her, though. She didn’t want to end up at the bottom of the ladder again.
“If you have a moment in your otherwise busy schedule, she would be gratified for your company.”
Kaylin wilted.
She is not angry with you, a familiar voice said. Kaylin could—and often did—forget about Ynpharion from time to time, in part because she now could. She knew his Name, his True Name. She couldn’t figure out how to forget that she knew it.
But he had also offered his Name to the Consort, and in the end, the Consort’s power, the Consort’s certainty, the Consort’s lack of fear, had stabilized her internal relationship with the only person who had not given her knowledge of his Name willingly.
Does she really want to see us? Or is this some sort of game? I’m not sure I like the look of that man.
You dislike the look of any man who is not a Hawk, Ynpharion shot back. By man, he meant Barrani. I am not, however, saying that this is unwise. You do not understand how to be cautious when you are among the powerful. This is, in part, a game; the Lord attempts to curry favor with the Consort by carrying a message, as if he were a lesser servant. But she does wish to speak with you.
With me, or with Teela?
With both.
We’re here to speak with Evarrim.
Yes. And it should come as no surprise to you that, as the Lady is aware of this, she has made certain that your paths will overlap.
Evarrim is with her.
She could feel Ynpharion’s smile. Yes, Lord Kaylin. He is.
He’s supposed to be meeting Teela. Nowish.
He is indeed. But he must balance the demands of the Lady with the demands of Lord Teela. Who do you think has precedence?
Fine. I’ll tell Teela.
* * *
She didn’t have the opportunity. Teela seemed to understand—without the necessity of actual information—what was happening, or what had happened; she reacted with elegance and what seemed sincere pleasure at the request. Her eyes remained a martial green, but did not slide into blue; if she wasn’t happy, she wasn’t angry or worried, either. Or rather, wasn’t more angry or more worried.
“How long did you live here?” Kaylin asked quietly.
“I have had an official residence in the High Halls for centuries. It was not until I chose to join the Hawks on a whim that I adopted a domicile closer to the Halls of Law.” Her smile was pleasant. Her tone said shut up.
Kaylin shut up. She noted that Severn felt no need to make conversation; he neither shrunk from attention nor demanded it. He seemed, in fact, to be at home in the High Halls, and Kaylin almost resented it.
This amused him; she could feel it. She resented that, as well.
The High Halls are a part of your job right now. They’re not otherwise part of your life. If the Barrani disapprove of you because you’re mortal, what of it? The only people you have to worry about are the High Lord and the Consort, and they clearly favor you. It annoys some of the Lords of the Court, he added. They feel it’s entirely too modern. They are only willing to hold their figurative noses because they don’t want to annoy the two most powerful people in the Court.
Yes, but—
When you leave here, you’re going home. Barrani ancestors weren’t capable of destroying your home, or you, while you were in it. To harm you right now, the Barrani would have to go through Teela—and I wouldn’t give an hour’s pay for their chances. You are in control here.
She didn’t feel like she was in control at all. But maybe, just maybe, no one did.
* * *
The Consort was waiting in the courtyard in which the Court gathered when called to do so by the High Lord. The Court itself was scattered throughout the interior grounds so artfully maintained in the heart of the High Halls; the Consort was on her throne. It was obviously a deliberate choice. She was the only person seated; to her left, Ynpharion had the position of honor. This surprised Kaylin, and her surprise annoyed Ynpharion. None of his annoyance showed, however.
Unlike your surprise.
She offered the Consort a perfect bow. The Consort didn’t actually make her hold it for more than a few seconds, and when Kaylin rose, the Consort rose, as well. She then crossed the distance between them and enfolded Kaylin in a hug. She left her arm around Kaylin’s shoulders as she turned to the rest of the Barrani milling in the open space. “I am not certain that all present are familiar with Lord Kaylin,” she said, with very mild emphasis on the last two words. “I believe you have made Lord Evarrim’s acquaintance.”
Evarrim bowed. Kaylin had come to understand that he was not a terribly politic man, although he was political. His expression was clear, readable, and annoyed. “Lord Kaylin.” He then turned and bowed to Severn and Teela in turn. They offered him the same courtesy. All of this took time.
Manners, apparently, always did.
“My apologies,” Teela said to the Consort. “Had I realized that Lord Evarrim was occupied by matters of greater import, I would not have attempted to meet with him.”
“Lord Evarrim has been extremely helpful to me in the past month,” the Consort replied. “He has barely had a chance to attend to his own work, and he has uttered no word of complaint.”
That was a patent untruth, in Kaylin’s opinion. Evarrim’s grimace acknowledged that opinion, but he held his peace. He was, she thought, a little like Mandoran: his opinions, even given no voice, were kind
“I am aware, however, that his knowledge and experience are without parallel.” She glanced at Teela. Teela’s eyes were a shade bluer, as if the Consort’s words had been a warning, or possibly even a threat.
“I do not wish to be at the beck and call of the Emperor,” Evarrim said. His eyes were entirely blue, the martial shade. Teela winced—possibly for him—and the Consort spared him a pointed glance, but left the words out.
“It is not,” Kaylin surprised them all by saying, “exclusively an Imperial concern.” She spoke in very precise High Barrani. Severn nodded, but said nothing. Nor did he move. He was capable of standing still for a very long time; Kaylin could manage At Attention without fidgeting, but it had taken years.
“No?” Evarrim asked—of Kaylin.
“You are aware of the reason for the existence of the fiefs and their Towers.”
He looked mildly insulted, but nodded anyway.
“This matter may pertain to those defenses—or a breach in those defenses.”
Evarrim proved to be Barrani. He relaxed. Kaylin was never going to understand him. “Very well. An’Teela implied that this meeting was of import, but failed to give any information when she...requested...my expertise.”
“Conveyance of the information is of Imperial concern, regrettably.”
Both Teela and the Consort looked mildly surprised.
“Of course it is.” Evarrim’s reply was sour, but he was definitely interested.
“How much of your studies over the past few centuries have involved—directly or indirectly—the Aerians?” She watched him like, well, a Hawk.
“That is an interesting question,” he replied; she now had the whole of his attention. She felt ambivalent about that, given the Arcanum. “And it might surprise you to know that you are not the first person in the past handful of months who has asked it of me.”
She almost said, What do you want in return for telling me who? But it was harder to construct a sentence like that in High Barrani. High Barrani wasn’t invented to be direct; every sentence required a few byways, as if the speakers needed many, many ways to get out of what they were trying to say if it didn’t end up being the right thing.
She hated the feeling of being watched and measured, and she was being watched and measured by at least two of the Barrani present: Teela and the Consort. Neither had decided that they needed to give her a hand or come to her rescue.
“It does not surprise me,” Kaylin said, voice about as flat as she felt.
Evarrim raised a brow.
“Perhaps it will surprise you to know that the Illumen praevolo is a Hawk, in service to the Imperial Law,” Kaylin said.
“It did, indeed, engender surprise when the information first came to me. In general, the praevolo is accorded a position and place of respect and power.” Neither of which, he heavily implied, the Hawks could give her. “The information, however, was incomplete, and perhaps inaccurate.”
“Oh?”
“I was told that the praevolo could not fly. Perhaps, if you understand what a praveolo is, you will understand my reaction. If she could not fly, she could not be what was claimed of her. And she could not, in theory, fly.”
“Why was this relevant?” Kaylin asked, forcing High Barrani to do actual heavy lifting.
“Your sergeant has had very little support from her own kind because she could not fly. Apparently, this supposition was incorrect. It is relevant,” he continued, “because the Aerian Caste Court has its feathers everywhere. They made demands of the Emperor—”
Kaylin winced. Evarrim nodded, acknowledging it.
“And they made requests for the support of every Caste Court involved in the governance of the Empire.”
“Indeed, they have,” the Consort inserted. “They were polite and respectful, inasmuch as demands can be.”
“They were, I am certain, meant to be requests,” Evarrim said. “The flights are not known for their understanding of the social customs of other races.”
Neither, Kaylin thought, were the Barrani. She thought about Moran. Thought about Margot. Thought about Margot’s vision, which was very oracular in its opacity.
The one that stuck out at this very moment—like a large hangman’s noose—was the Dragon. Because Shadow was involved, one way or the other, and there was only one Dragon who lived in, and who seemed in some fashion to control, Shadow. The outcaste.
“Did the Aerians in question mention that they purchased the services of a sometime-Oracle?”
Evarrim tensed. “They did not.”
“In which case they didn’t mention the contents of that Oracle. I know oracular vision is not in any way reliable, and it can’t be used in a court of Law—at least not an Imperial Court. But the Barrani do, on occasion, seek out the services of the Oracular Halls.”
“We are usually rebuffed,” was the stiff reply.
“And if you thought Oracles were garbage, you’d never have the opportunity to be rebuffed,” Kaylin said, descending into Elantran, where she firmly intended to stay. “The Aerians—the ones involved in multiple assassination attempts—wanted an Oracle. Which implies heavily that they’re planning to do something they’re not entirely certain will work out well for them.
“The contents of that vision weren’t passed immediately on to whoever tried to get it.”
“But they were passed on to the Hawks?”
“As it happens, yes.” Kaylin folded her arms, shifting her stance as she met and held Evarrim’s narrowed gaze. “The seer in question isn’t actually a resident of the Oracular Halls, and she didn’t particularly want to cooperate with the customer who brought the request in. But the odd thing was, she did. She was compelled to cooperate; she lost control of her body.”
Evarrim said nothing. The Barrani were, and could be, subject to such a loss of control, which was the particular peril of allowing one’s True Name to be known. Humans, however, had no True Names. Control, if it was exerted, had to be exerted in an entirely different way.
“You haven’t heard of this.”
“No. But no information that travels in the political ether is complete. Ever. You are implying that you are aware of the mechanism used.”
“Yes.”
“And?”
Ynpharion said, The Lady wishes me to advise you that caution is a virtue. He winced when Kaylin winced.
We’re here to get information about the damn mechanism.
If you will permit me, was his stiff reply. I stay as far from your thoughts as possible, and your domicile thankfully makes it impossible to approach without direct permission. I am not entirely aware of the events that have occurred, and the Lady wishes to know.
She asked?
Yes, in fact. She is unwilling to have me struggle to gain information you do not wish to share, but she feels that she is now at a disadvantage. Please control your facial expressions.
Kaylin had one moment of satisfaction in that long day. Ynpharion’s eyes went almost blue black instantly when she let him in, and when he shared whatever it was he chose to offer the Consort, so did hers. She felt faintly smug, and then faintly guilty. Now was not the time to be petty.
The Consort then turned to Evarrim. “I believe,” she said, “that the time for certain negotiations or games has now passed.”
Chapter 22
Evarrim frowned, his gaze moving from Kaylin to the Consort and back. The Consort didn’t blink. Kaylin probably did, but that was now irrelevant. He could toy with Kaylin to his heart’s content, could condescend to her and treat her like an ignorant street rat. He would never treat the Consort that way.
He bowed. To the Consort, of course.
“The Oracle’s vision,” Kaylin said, “involved a Dragon, ringed by Ae
“In the vision—” Evarrim’s eyes were now the same shade of almost black that the other Barrani eyes—with the exception of Teela, to whom this was semi-old news—had become “—was the praevolo at the side of this figurative Dragon?”
“No. She was, in theory, standing alone.”
“Against the Dragon?” he pressed.
“It wasn’t my vision. I don’t think the Oracle in question implied combat on her part, but it definitely implied martial forces on the Dragon’s.”
“What color was the Dragon?”
“She didn’t say. She couldn’t say. It was too dark. This caused predictable annoyance on the part of the man who was forcing her to have this partial vision.”
“I can well understand why.”
“The method by which she was controlled involved Shadow.”
Evarrim stiffened. “Do you have proof of that?”
“Yes, actually. It isn’t the only time Shadow has been used—and in both cases, it was used to control someone. The man who came to force the seer to have her vision contained Shadow that did not appear to have significant control over his actions. He used the power he’d been granted with no awareness at all that the driving force behind it was Shadow.”
“Impossible.”
“Is it?” the Consort asked, voice cool. “We are, none of us, servants of the Imperial Laws, but we are assured that those who do serve are well trained. Perhaps you suggest that Lord Kaylin was misinformed?”
It was not the time for petty, Kaylin reminded herself. “I wasn’t informed. I observed. Shadow was forced out of him, and when he realized what it was, he panicked. He didn’t intend to die, and he realized that he was no safer than his victim in that regard. He volunteered to aid us. Until today. Today, he demanded the protection of the human Caste Court, and a remand for his possible sentencing.”