Cast in Honor (The Chronicles of Elantra) (14 page)

“You came to ask me about the bodies?”

She’d come because he’d pretty much demanded her presence, but she was politic enough not to say this out loud. “I came to ask about the bodies, but also ancient ruins and their entry points.”

“Records,” the Arkon said.

Light spread from the apex of the small pyramid, rising in a familiar, oval shape. It was a mirror, of a sort, but it had no back, no silvered front. Anyone seated at the table could see the images it produced. “Records: location.”

The image that everyone could clearly see was a familiar display of Elantran streets. It saw regular use in the Halls of Law. The Arkon then said a word that was not Elantran, but not—given the volume—draconian, either.

It caused all Barrani eyes in the room to widen.

“Personal Records: historical map, variant 22B. Overlay current map location.”

The lines of the current map faded until they could only barely be seen. Other lines, however, joined them. The Arkon snorted smoke. “Historical map variant 2A.” As the historical map faded and reappeared, the Arkon’s eyes narrowed. “Historical event map, by location. Significant nexus disturbances.”

This time, the map lit up areas that Kaylin recognized. One was a big, glowing blue blotch over what would otherwise be Elani Street. She started to pay attention then. She could guess what that event was; she’d witnessed it.

She hadn’t witnessed any of the others, but there were others. The map didn’t give event dates, just locations. Without thinking, she said, “Records, enlarge map.” Nothing, of course, happened.

Bellusdeo then repeated Kaylin’s command, and this time—naturally—the map grew. So did the oval that contained it. At the heart of the city, bounded by rivers and walls, lay the fiefs. No streets could be seen; there was a blur of glowing gray, gray and more gray, that grew darker as it reached the center of the fiefs themselves.

“Ravellon.”

“It should come as no surprise to you that disturbances of any significance once occurred there. Look at the Winding Path.” As he spoke, the map once again moved; Ravellon fell off the edge of the image.

Gray covered the whole of the midsection of the long Winding Path. At its center was the house in which the bodies had been discovered.

Chapter 12

“Gray is bad, right?” Mandoran asked. When Teela glared at the side of his face, he laughed. “I’m joking, Teela. Joking. You remember what jokes are, right?”

“Gray,” the Arkon said, in a voice so dry it should have caught fire, and might well yet, “is, as you put it, bad.”

“I’m wondering why the Hawks don’t have a similar map,” Teela added.

“You have a good working knowledge of current events; you could place those events and re-create a large portion of the relevant, modern map.” The implied
if you weren’t so lazy and shortsighted
hung in the air without the actual need to be said. “The reason the gray is so dark in Elani is because—”

“That’s where the Keeper is,” Kaylin finished.

“Indeed. We do not distrust the Keeper, precisely. But his abode is in the heart of the Emperor’s hoard.”

“How long ago was the previous difficulty on the Winding Path?” Teela asked, as Kaylin simultaneously demanded to know what, exactly, the difficulty
was
.

“Centuries ago,” the Arkon replied, answering Teela’s question. Kaylin’s he left hanging, like bad laundry. “I believe you have had access to the archives of the Arcanum.”

“I do not have access to those archives at present.”

“No, of course not. You’re a Hawk.” He stared at her.

“I’ll ask,” Teela grudgingly offered. “But I’ll be expected to offer some information in return.”

“We have no information at present, and Arcanists are famously difficult when they decide to investigate on their own. Perhaps it is wise to contain that request for the time being.”

Teela nodded.

“You entered the subbasement. Did you note anything of significance aside from the magical detritus on the walls?”

“No. The Halls would welcome your investigation, should you decide to visit the site in person.” This was exaggeration, if not an outright lie.

“Given my last excursion, I do not plan to leave my library for at least a decade.”

“Not even for dinner?” Bellusdeo asked.

She could have stabbed him in the leg and caused less obvious pain, in Kaylin’s opinion. “I will, of course, be delighted to accept your offer of hospitality.”

Bellusdeo laughed. Her eyes were pure gold. “At your age, Lannagaros, you should be a much better liar.”

“I have had enough power in my life that I have never been forced to learn the art of dissembling.” To Kaylin, he said, “Your familiar does not feel that...Gilbert...poses an immediate threat. I wish you to ascertain what Gilbert’s presence means. His presence across the street from this unusual murder—and basement—cannot be a coincidence. Bellusdeo will accompany you when you interview him.”

Kaylin opened her mouth, thought better and closed it again.

The Arkon then turned to Mandoran. Kaylin didn’t understand a word that left his mouth when he spoke to the Barrani youth. Teela didn’t immediately understand them, either, but her expression made it clear that Mandoran did.

“I cannot believe,” Mandoran said, as his eyes shaded to indigo, “that you are still alive. The High Lord did not understand just how much of a threat you posed.”

“The High Lord approves of the Arkon,” Kaylin pointed out.

“He refers,” Teela said, in a brittle voice, “to the High Lord who reigned at the time of the last of our great wars. He has had no interaction with the reigning High Lord.”

“What exactly did he
say
?”

“Nothing that you need to hear,” Teela snapped. It had been a long time since Teela had used that tone of voice; the last time Kaylin could remember hearing it, they’d been caught in the cross fire of a magical fight. An illegal one. And Kaylin had still been a mascot.

Bellusdeo, however, folded her arms. “Perhaps Kaylin doesn’t,” she conceded. “I, however, would like an explanation. Arkon?”

The Arkon looked at Mandoran and Annarion. To Kaylin’s great surprise, he didn’t respond to Bellusdeo, either. “You said you were of the Solanace line.”

Annarion nodded.

“You are aware that the line ended when your brother was made Outcaste.”

“I am Solanace,” Annarion said. “I have committed no crime. I have broken no law.”

“You will not take the mantle of your father’s line if you do not face the test of the High Halls.”

“No.”

“You are aware that your ancestral lands are in the hands of your cousin.”

“Why, exactly, do you know so much about the Solanace family?” Kaylin asked.

“I know many things. If I were to catalog them all, you would die of old age—or possibly fire. I do not enjoy your constant interruptions.” This last had more thunder in it. “I did not threaten your companion. I merely wished to know how much he would understand.”

“What language were you speaking?”

“An old, dead tongue.”

“An old dead tongue, more to the point,” Teela said, rising at last, “that
I
have not personally encountered. Mandoran and Annarion were exposed to the same languages that I was, in my youth; they have not been exposed to the breadth of languages that I have since our separation.”

“Then you will have something to chat about on your way out.”

Kaylin blinked.

“Bellusdeo told me everything of value. You will, as I said, speak with Gilbert. You will keep me informed.”

“Of course.” Kaylin smiled. “Dinner in five days?”

The Arkon exhaled smoke in a steady stream. Bellusdeo came to stand beside Kaylin. Her smile, which looked genuine and made her face seem so much younger, deepened.

“I cannot think why I missed you in your long absence.”

“Of course not. Come. If we must build bridges—and why, exactly,
bridge
is a good metaphor when we can all fly, I don’t know—help me to establish a different paradigm. You were there at the beginning. Be here now.”

* * *

Bellusdeo was still chortling when they left the Palace.

“He didn’t answer any questions,” Kaylin pointed out.

“He answered most of mine earlier, and he doesn’t like to repeat himself.”

“Except when he’s being critical.”

“He’s seldom critical of me.”

Of course not.

“But he was
always
critical when I was young. It makes me nostalgic. He was so stiff and so proper it was fun to tease him.”

“Should I ask what Dragon teasing entails?”

“No. Teela is already giving me the side-eye.” Still smiling, she said, “His interactions with you remind me of the way he always treated us—me and my sisters. I do not believe you could annoy him so much that he would kill you; he has some affection for you.” Her smile faded. “All of my attempts to irritate him come to nothing now; he pities me too much.”

“I would have thought that would be life-ending. His life.”

“He is old, Kaylin.”

“Which should make it—”

“Age in the immortal sense does not mean what it does for your kind. If I truly meant to kill him, I would resort to poison. I am not sure I could do enough damage, otherwise.”

“He would never kill you.”

“In self-defense, we are more...primal.”

“And why, exactly, are we talking about your possible death at the hands of the Arkon?” Kaylin glanced at the rest of the company. They all looked amused.

“It passes time,” Bellusdeo replied. “And it is pleasant enough to consider in the abstract.”

Kaylin was never going to understand immortals.

* * *

Convince Moran to stay with Helen. Check.

Visit the Arkon. Check. She had even managed to sneak in the possibility of an informal Imperial dinner.

Squawk
.

She should have felt at least a little accomplished. But sometimes the world—her world—seemed so fragile. One wrong move, one moment of unrelieved ignorance, and it was over. The Devourer had almost destroyed it. The idiot who had hoped to take over the
power
of the Keeper—without any of the responsibility, of course—could have destroyed it. If the heart of the green had been destroyed, if Mandoran and Annarion had returned to the world without the tenuous link to the names that had given them life, Kaylin thought it likely that the world would have eventually ended, as well.

The fact that it hadn’t implied, strongly, that they’d been collectively lucky. And relying on luck was a mug’s game. The only reliable thing about luck was that it was a coin toss. It could come up heads or tails, good or bad, win or lose. If you played long enough, bad was inevitable.

“Kaylin,” Mandoran said.

She stopped.

“Where are you going?”

“Didn’t you hear the Arkon?”

“I did.”

“Well, then. I’m going to visit Gilbert and Kattea.”

Teela said, “Your stomach is making so much noise I can hardly hear myself think. We’re almost near the midmarket. Pick up something to eat—for all of us—on the way there. Bellusdeo can pay.”

“Oh?” the Dragon said.

“The Emperor will see to any reasonable expense you accrue. Even if he offered to do so for Kaylin, ranks of bureaucracy stand in the way of her refund.” When Bellusdeo failed to respond, Teela grinned. “Look, he has to be good for something.”

The gold Dragon snorted. But she paid.

* * *

Kattea was far more subdued on their second visit than she had been on the first. Her eyes did light up when Bellusdeo presented her with the basket that contained a late lunch; she didn’t even wilt when Kaylin explained that the day had been so grueling none of them had had time to eat yet.

The small dragon squawked. A lot.

“Is Gilbert in?” Kaylin asked.

“Yes. He’s busy.”

“Does he need to eat? I mean, can you interrupt him?”

“He knows you’re here.”

Kaylin frowned. The difference in Kattea was so marked, she dropped straight into worry. “Did something happen last night?”

Kattea shook her head. She glanced once over her shoulder, and when she turned back, her face was shuttered. She was polite; her body language was deferential. But she might have been an orphan navigating the streets of Nightshade, she was suddenly so wary.

Kaylin knew that wariness well, she had lived with it herself for so long. “Ferals?”

The girl froze. “There are no Ferals on this side of the bridge,” she whispered. As if it were a prayer. As if she almost didn’t believe it.

Kaylin had been there, too. “No, there aren’t. Not unless something goes badly, badly wrong. Was Gilbert injured?” So many shots in the dark. But this one hit its mark.

Kattea nodded.

“Have you eaten?”

She shook her head.

“Eat with us?”

Wariness, again.

Kaylin smacked her own forehead. “This is Annarion, and this is Mandoran. They weren’t here yesterday, but they’re friends. They’re Teela’s friends. They are not the fieflord’s thugs.”

“Are they Hawks, too?”

“Not yet.”

Annarion looked gray green. Mandoran looked as if he wanted to add something. He didn’t.

* * *

Kattea’s wariness diminished as she ate. Gilbert, however, did not make an appearance, and when Kaylin was certain that her stomach wouldn’t embarrass her, she rose. “Kattea?”

The girl glanced at the Barrani—all of them. Kaylin had a very bad feeling.

“Will you take me to see Gilbert? If he’s injured, I might be able to help.”

Bellusdeo rose, as well. Her eyes were not quite orange yet; her expression suggested that if Kaylin insisted on going to see Gilbert without backup, they would be.

“You can’t help him. He said no one could help. Not even me.”

“Want to make a bet?”

Kattea’s eyes narrowed. “For what?”

She really was a child after Kaylin’s own heart. Since Bellusdeo had paid for lunch, Kaylin fished around in her pockets and drew out two silver coins. They were as round as Kattea’s eyes became. “I...can’t match that.”

“No. What will you bet?”

“What do you want?”

“Information. If I
can
help Gilbert, you have to answer my questions as truthfully as you can.”

Kattea weighed the stakes. She looked momentarily crafty and calculating. “I’ll take it,” she said, standing. “You can come see Gilbert.”

* * *

By unspoken consent, Kaylin and Bellusdeo left the room together. Severn, Kaylin’s partner, remained behind with the Barrani.

“Did any Barrani come here yesterday?” Kaylin asked. “I mean, besides us?”

“You haven’t won the bet yet.”

Bellusdeo lifted a brow behind Kattea’s back, but made no comment until the girl bypassed the stairs that led to the bedrooms. She headed to the door that led to the basement, instead. Of course it had to be the basement.

Bellusdeo’s eyes were orange by the time Kattea opened the squeaking door. Kaylin’s would have shifted to orange or blue if human eyes changed color with mood. She glanced at her arms. Her skin didn’t hurt, which would have been a comfort in other circumstances, but the marks on her arms had begun to glow.

Bellusdeo couldn’t fail to notice. Light seeped through the dark, full-length sleeves Kaylin habitually wore while on duty.

The basement was not well lit. Some homes had window-wells at the height of basement walls; the previous owners of this one obviously hadn’t seen much use for them.

The stairs ended.

“Is it always this dark down here?” Kaylin asked their guide.

Kattea did not carry a lamp or a torch. Her left hand trailed the wall as she walked, but the light from the door above them ended abruptly. It was replaced by a lot of darkness.

Bellusdeo could see in the dark; so could Teela and Tain. Kaylin and Severn required a bit of help. So, in theory, should Kattea. “Gilbert says you need light,” Kattea said, a hint of question in her voice.

“In general, yes. You don’t?”

“Not if Gilbert’s here.”

Kaylin silently kissed two silver coins goodbye as Kattea led them farther into the basement. She forgot about the bet when she realized that the floor beneath her patrolling boots was made of solid stone. Reaching out, she touched a wall that was also solid stone; it felt smooth to the touch. Smooth and cold.

“This is a large basement,” Bellusdeo said, presumably to Kattea.

“It’s
really
big,” Kattea agreed. “It’s mostly empty.”