Michelle Sagara - Cast in Silence

She recognized the tone of voice; she might as well have been locked in the West Room with an unlit candle in front of her face. Tiamaris grimaced.

“He was always like this?” she asked him.

“Always,” the Dragon Hawk replied. “Understand that the Arkon and the Outcaste were, in as much as any two beings can be, friends. It is hard to surrender an ancient friendship, no matter how dire the circumstance. Even the Arkon is not immune to some trace of sentiment.”

Clearly the Dragon word sentiment didn’t really intersect the human one in any significant way. Kaylin managed to keep this thought to herself.

“It was the Arkon who noted the change in the Outcaste upon his return from the heart of the fiefs. He did not immediately make his concern clear.” There was another hesitation, and it was longer and more profound. “In the end, however, it was the Arkon who was left to confront the Outcaste, because it was the Arkon who possessed the only certain knowledge we, as a race, held.”

Kaylin frowned. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“I’m sure you don’t,” Sanabalis replied quietly. “And after a brief pause for comprehension, you will once again resume all appearance of ignorance. This will not, one assumes, be difficult.” She grimaced.

“The Arkon,” Tiamaris continued, as if Sanabalis hadn’t spoken, “has never said this explicitly, even when pressed. The Emperor has never commanded him to speak,” Tiamaris added. “Not even the respect the Arkon commands could stand in the face of his defiance of a direct order, and the Emperor does respect him greatly.” He glanced at their mutual teacher once more. Sanabalis nodded evenly.

“But we believe that they were brothers in all but blood, the Outcaste and the Arkon. We believe,” he added, lowering his voice, “that the Arkon knew the Outcaste’s name.”

Given the way the Barrani guarded theirs, and given the significance of the name itself, Kaylin understood why the Arkon had been loath to speak. If Dragons or Barrani had souls—and Kaylin had her doubts—they were entwined in the name; knowledge of the name was so profoundly intimate no human experience approached it.

But she frowned. “If—” And then she stopped.

The silence went on for a long time.

“Yes,” Sanabalis said heavily. “He attempted to use the name, to bespeak the Outcaste.”

This time, it was her silence that weighted the room. It passed for thought, but she didn’t need much time to think; she only needed the time to choose her words. Normally, she didn’t bother, but she had a strong feeling that was about to change, and like it or not, she would live with that.

“He didn’t answer,” she finally said. As word choices went, it wasn’t impressive.

But Sanabalis nodded anyway. “No.”

“Sanabalis—”

He waited, as if this were a test. Or as if all conversation from this moment on would be one. She really, really hated this type of lesson; it was all about failing, and interesting failure often didn’t count for part marks. She glanced at Tiamaris, and saw no help coming from that quarter, but he was as tense as she was. And why? It was only conversation.

“His name,” she said quietly.

“Yes?”

“His true name.”

Sanabalis nodded again.

“It was different.”

The Dragon Lord closed his eyes. “Yes,” he finally said. “We believe that something in the heart of the fiefs changed the very nature of his true name.”

“And when the Arkon spoke it—”

“He did not, and could not, hear it. Not as we hear the truth of our names when they’re spoken.”

She was silent, then, absorbing the words and letting them sink roots. “I don’t understand,” she finally said.

“No. No more do we.”

Hesitating, she glanced at the carpet. It was safest. “When I went to the Barrani High Court—”

“Speak carefully, Kaylin.”

“I’m trying.” And so much for the effort. “When I went to the High Court, I saw—I learned—how Barrani are named.”

“Yes.”

She glanced at him. Rock was more expressive.

“Look, Sanabalis—I was born mortal. I was born the usual way. We don’t have true names. We don’t even understand them.”

“No. You are not bound by them, either.”

“But—the Barrani don’t wake until they’re named.”

“No.”

“Do the Dragons?”

He failed, deliberately, to answer.

“From what I understand, the name is what they are, somehow. What you are.”

“That is also our understanding.”

“If his name changed, would he be—”

“He is not what he was, Kaylin.”

“Yes—but he remembered everything. He lied, based on that knowledge. He tried—”

“Yes.” Sanabalis lifted a hand. “He did those things.”

“So you can lose your name and still remember your whole life?”

Tiamaris cleared his throat. “Had you a true name,” he told her quietly, “the Arkon would not have been swayed.”

But she did. She had a name. She had no idea what it meant to have one, but she had taken one burning, glowing rune for herself from the waters of Life beneath the Barrani High Halls, and she still bore it. Severn knew it. Severn could call her.

But…he had never tried to use the name against her. She wondered if he even could.

“Wait.”

“Yes?”

“You have a name.” She spoke to Tiamaris.

“Indeed, Kaylin.”

“But—”

“If I am not accompanied by you, I am not to enter Barren,” he replied.

Her eyes narrowed. “You know something you’re not telling me.”

“It does not affect our mission.”

“And your mission,” Sanabalis said quietly, “starts now. Private,” he added, rising, “understand that you are now seconded—as a Hawk—to the Imperial Court. What we have discussed in these rooms is not to be discussed with anyone save a member of that Court. If your Sergeant chooses to demand a report, the report you file must first go through the Court. Lord Grammayre may ask about your progress. You will take Lord Tiamaris to these meetings, and you will let him do the talking. Is that clear?”

“As glass.”

“Good.” He didn’t smile. “Your life depends on it. You have not yet met the Emperor, but that will not save you if you cross the lines he has drawn. Understand this,” he told her quietly. “Because if you do, nothing I can do or say will affect his decision.

“You may, however, question Tiamaris at your leisure, as he is part of the Court and privy to Court matters. If you have any leisure time.” He gestured and the door opened. So much for economical use of power. “You have been given permission to remove your bracer. I suggest you wait until you’ve crossed the Ablayne.”

“Oh, I will,” she told him. Because that was where she usually threw the damn thing.

Tiamaris escorted her out of the Imperial Palace. They’d spent most of the day there, one way or the other, and Kaylin, glancing at the Halls of Law in the distance, grimaced. “Barren.”

“You don’t want to return.”

“No. Never.” She could afford to be that honest with Tiamaris.

“Kaylin—”

“But it just so happens we’re in luck.” She used irony here as if it were a blunt weapon. Against the force of Dragon humor, it pretty much had to be. “I met an old friend of mine on the way from Evanton’s shop.”

He raised a dark brow. “An old friend?”

She nodded. “She expected to see me. I sure as hells didn’t expect to see her. But she had a message for me. How much can we stall?”

“Stall?”

“How long can we hold off our investigation? A day? Two?”

“If there’s reason for it, but—”

“It had better be a damn good reason?” Tiamaris nodded.