Michelle Sagara - Cast In Deception

She rolled out of bed, noted that she had not grabbed the dagger she kept under her pillow, and considered this—more or less—progress.

“It wouldn’t help,” Helen said. “It is not morning by any standard definition. Would you care for light?”

Her house did not wake her up in the middle of the night unless there was an emergency call from the midwives. Midwives did not enrage or terrify either Barrani or Dragons.

“Where are they?” Kaylin asked, squinting as her eyes acclimatized themselves to bright light. She got dressed while the familiar circled her head, waiting for a place to land.

“I am currently trying to keep Mandoran and Annarion calm, with lamentably little success. I did call for Teela.”

“How?”

“The mirror.” Helen disliked and distrusted the mirror network. The fact that she had used it made things much more dire.

“Bellusdeo is roaring.”

“She isn’t angry. She felt she needed to get the boys’ attention—and native Dragon certainly did that.”

Kaylin headed to the door, her floors creaking comfortably beneath bare feet. At the door, she slid those feet into boots. She wasn’t certain what had happened, but if running or fighting were involved, bare feet wouldn’t be helpful. “What caused this, anyway?”

“The cohort.”

“The cohort’s not even here yet!”

“No. But they are traveling by Hallionne and portal path, and...they seem to have encountered some difficulty.”

Kaylin froze, hand on the doorknob. “Pardon?”

“I believe you did hear me.”

“But—” She was cut off by Dragon roar. “Did that bit involve fire?”

“Yes, but it’s contained. Bellusdeo is trying to stop the boys from doing anything catastrophically hasty—and she has my absolute blessing. I would advise you to hurry, on the other hand.”

“Oh?”

“Teela is almost at the door.”

* * *

Teela was. But so, to Kaylin’s surprise, was Tain. Their eyes were midnight blue, their expressions grim. In the distance Bellusdeo roared, but this time it had intelligible words in it.

Teela made a beeline for the kitchen.

“The boys are downstairs,” Helen explained. “I had to move them to the training rooms. Mandoran is not particularly happy with this.”

“Is Bellusdeo with them?”

“Yes.”

“What’s going on?” Kaylin demanded—of Tain.

“You probably know as much as I do. There’s been some trouble with the cohort in the West March. The impressions left by the cohort are chaotic and unclear.”

“What do you mean?”

“I am not certain, at this point, that they can communicate with Teela and the boys. At all.”

Kaylin cursed. In Leontine.

* * *

Barrani could run for longer than most mortals; they were taller than Kaylin and their legs had a greater reach. It took Kaylin five minutes to catch up to Tain, because the training rooms were down an intimidating spiral staircase that seemed to go on forever. Kaylin couldn’t see the floor. She did, however, see a closed door on the wall side of the descent.

“They’re here?” Tain demanded of thin air.

“Yes, dear,” Helen replied.

What, a familiar voice demanded, has happened? It was Nightshade. Kaylin didn’t even fight him as she answered. I will be there soon. If Annarion reappears do not let him leave.

I’m not his boss, and I’m not his jailer.

I was not speaking to you. It took her a moment to understand that he was speaking to Helen. That moment, however, was spent watching Tain’s back as he opened a short, squat door. It was thick and old and scarred. She had been to rooms in Helen’s basement before, but this one, more than any other, reminded her of holding cells, except for the light.

Bellusdeo and Maggaron stood in the room’s center; the Dragon’s eyes were orange red, and the Ascendant was armed. Not that weapons appeared to be necessary.

There was no sunlight, no window into the external world. There were no obvious sources of illumination, and even had there been, Kaylin might not have noticed. What she noticed were the moving, swirling splashes of color that seemed to spread across the walls and the ceiling as if they were alive. It reminded her of Shadow, although each color was too bold, too definitive, otherwise. There was a conversation going on that Kaylin couldn’t hear, and this was its detritus.

Tain appeared to see what she saw, but color wasn’t what he was looking for.

“Teela!”

To Helen, Kaylin said, in a much quieter voice, “Is this the room Teela entered?”

And Helen said, “Yes.”

Teela was nowhere in sight.

“She is,” was Helen’s grim reply. “She’s with the boys. Those flashes of color you thought of as argument? She’s one of them.”

* * *

Tain stepped into the room, Kaylin practically hugging his back. He hadn’t drawn a weapon, but both of his hands were lifted. To Kaylin’s eye, everything was a blur of color, and none of that color was Teela. Or Mandoran or Annarion either, if it came to that. “Are they even here?” Kaylin demanded of Helen.

“Yes.” As she spoke, some of that color shifted, becoming less of a flat, moving splash against stone as it did. Kaylin was suddenly reminded of Annarion in Castle Nightshade and was glad that she hadn’t bothered to eat much.

“Guys,” she said, raising her voice to be heard. There wasn’t much sound in the room if she stopped to think about it, but something about the kaleidoscope of color implied shrieking. “There is no way you are going to the High Halls like this! There’s no way you could even enter a Hallionne in this shape or form!”

The slowest of the racing colors recombined; they came together in a way that resembled Annarion, had he been sculpted by someone who wanted to suggest his form artistically, rather than render it realistically. Even his eyes—which were very blue—did not look solid or whole.

“Your brother is coming to visit,” she told him. “And I’d really appreciate it if you’d give Teela back—Tain is about to explode.”

* * *

It took another five minutes before Annarion resembled his usual, breakfast-room self. Teela emerged more quickly, but her color was off. Kaylin would have been gray or green; Teela was simply pale. Her eyes were the same shade of midnight that Annarion’s were. Mandoran did not coalesce.

Tain was at Teela’s side the minute her feet were solid—and it was her feet that took shape last. In all, it was disturbing; it was not something that Kaylin had seen Teela do before, and she had a very strong desire never to see it again.

“Look, I appreciate that you guys had to learn how to talk to, and live in, a Hallionne. But Teela didn’t and she is not cut out for this. You’re guests here. I’m happy to have you. Mostly. But this has got to stop.”

Mandoran lacked a mouth to reply.

“No, he doesn’t, dear, but I don’t think I’ll repeat his answer.”

Kaylin folded her arms. To Annarion she said, “Your brother will be here soon. Anything you can do to become more solid would probably be good.”

“Oh great,” Mandoran said, speaking for the first time. “Tell him we don’t want visitors.”

Kaylin’s arms tightened. “If this is what you do when you’re upset or worried, you’re never going to become Lords of the High Court. I doubt they can actually kill you—but they can make you all outcaste if you push it.”

Bellusdeo dropped a hand on Kaylin’s left shoulder. Small and squawky curled his tail around her neck. He didn’t lift a wing to bat her face, and he didn’t press it over her eyes, either. If he could see Mandoran as he was, he didn’t feel it was necessary for Kaylin to see him, too.