Are they at war with Alsanis now?
No.
Are they at home?
Yes.
The Lord of the West March raised one hand. That is enough, Lord Kaylin. If you have come to offer aid to the Consort, we must not tarry.
Not a word was spoken as they traversed the great halls, not even by the eagles. They might have been part of a funeral procession, given their expressions. What the eagles meant to Lord Barian, they clearly did not mean to Lord Lirienne, but the almost open suspicion with which theyd been greeted at the doors had been set aside.
No, kyuthe, it has not. Avonelles questions this eve were an open act of hostility available only because you are both mortal and foreign. Had Lord Barians brother succeeded in his test, it is likely he would now be Lord of the West March.
Butbut thats a hereditary title.
Heredity, like any other custom, is subject to the demands of power. If I could not hold the West March against her son, I would not deserve to rule it. Her son failed.
She frowned. You liked him, she said, in some surprise.
It is not relevant. Had he become a Lord of the High Court, one of the two of us would not have survived.
Lord Barian didnt take the test.
No. His brothers failure was vindication for his cowardice.
Kaylin frowned. I dont think hes a coward.
No?
No. I think he feels responsible for the West March. He can fulfill those responsibilities as Warden. He cant, if hes dead.
He is not like his brother; he looks inward, rather than out.
I dont think the green cares.
The green does care, the eagle on her arm said.
Lord Barians brows rose slightly; Lord Liriennes expression did not change at all.
This is why you dont care for the dreams of Alsanis. Kaylin grimaced.
The Lord of the West March laughed. It is one reason among many. At the moment, I am enraged by their existence.
To Kaylins surprise, this was true. He made no attempt to hide the depth of his fury; it opened up in front of her like a door.
The Lord of the West March laughed. It is one reason among many. At the moment, I am enraged by their existence.
To Kaylins surprise, this was true. He made no attempt to hide the depth of his fury; it opened up in front of her like a door.
I do not know what Barian told you, he continued when she failed to find words, but my sister cannot be woken. We have tried. Lord Nightshade and Lord Evarrim have been by her side since dinner. She does not respond to touch, to sound, or to the enchantments it is safe to cast. Barian allowed her to take the burden of his responsibility upon herself. If she fails to wake, I will kill him. I will not kill him quickly. I may be moved to allow his mother to live.
Kaylin glanced at Lord Barian. Swallowing, she said, Ill wake her.
You are so certain you are capable of it?
She wasnt, and he knew it.
To her surprise, Lord Evarrim and Nightshade were still in attendance when they at last arrived. The Consort lay between them; they stood watch. Evarrim noted Kaylins presence with a grim nod that all but screamed distaste; Nightshade offered her the nod that passes between equals. Neither man spoke, but as she approached the Consort, they stepped back to give her both room and their silent permission.
Evarrim seemed ill-pleased by the presence of both Barian and the eagle that rested, weightless, on her arm. As it was clear that the bird was there with the Lord of the West Marchs permission, he said nothing.
Lord Barian seemed entirely unconcerned that an Outcaste wore the Tellers crown.
Kaylin knew the Consorts skin shouldnt be the color it was. Barrani skin was generally flawless and palebut this had a sallow, green tinge that looked worse than unhealthy. She stopped herself from checking for a pulse, and then realized it didnt matter. The only person present she would have spared her sudden fear already knew what she was feeling.
She knelt by the Consorts side, and very carefully touched her hand. It was cold. Morgue cold. Lord Barian, she said, in High Barrani, if you have anything of import to tell me about the nightmares of the Hallionne, now is the time.
I can tell you less about the nightmares than our companions can, he replied. They are one.
She resisted the urge to snap something rude in Leontine.
He is not wrong, the eagle on her arm said. She released the Consorts hand and attempted to remove the bird; his weightless claws tightened. Do not be foolish. We have accompanied you for a reason, Chosen. If you set us aside, how will you speak to the nightmares?
Probably the same way Im speaking to you, she replied. But less politely.
The bird spoke to its companion; their voices rose.
The Barrani found their discussion fascinating. Kaylin, hand once again touching the still iciness of the Consorts, found it annoying. She closed her eyes and counted to ten; she made it to four, and not for the usual reason.
In the silence of watchful Barrani, in the darkness behind closed lids, she could hear the eagles speak, and the language that sounded so painfully familiar took on the tones and the range of sound she associated with song. There was a distinctive cadence to the words, a stretching and thinning of syllables that speech didnt normally contain.
Musiceven wordless musichad a feel to it. It evoked emotion. There was a simple harmony to the speech of these creatures, although she couldnt quite place howthey seemed to take turns, to be singing different parts, and their voices were distinct. They didnt overlap. But there was no point in expecting dreams in the shape of eagles to actually make sense.
Lady. Kaylins voice was rough and tuneless in comparison.
The Consort didnt answerno surprise there.
Kaylin inhaled, exhaled, and then reached out with the power that she used to heal the injured. If there was nothing wrong with the Consort physically, there would be nothing to heal.
The dreams of Alsanis continued their song, and as Kaylin listened, she understood why it sounded so familiar; she had heard something similar beforebut never in voices like these. The Consort had sung something with the same feel, the same tone, when she had been forced to wake the Hallionne Bertolle. There was a yearning, a desire, and an emptiness to the song of the dreams of Alsanis that reminded Kaylin very much of the Consorts song of awakening.
She started to tell the eagles that the Consort wasnt a Hallionne and couldnt be woken that way, but stopped. She had no idea whether or not that was true, anymore, because something about the Consort was subtly different from the other Barrani she had healed. She almost forgot to breathe, the panic was so sharp.
But it was hard to hold on to it; the song of the dreams of Alsanis was too insistent, too urgent; there was a warmtha heatto the urgency. She felt it pass through the Consorts hand into her own. As it did, she heard a second song.
If the first song was the conversation of the dreams, the second was the construction of the nightmares. It should have been cacophony. It wasnt. Somehow, the two disparate songs overlapped and blended; they were distinct, but they wereas the eagles had saidpart of a single piece.
Kaylins arms began to burn. So did the back of her neck, her legs, and a small spot in the center of her forehead. She knew the marks that adorned over half her body were now glowing. Lady, she thought, squeezing the Consorts hand. Wake.
There was nothing wrong with her body. There was nothing to heal. But Kaylin knew, as she listened, that the Consort wouldnt wake without intervention. Barrani didnt require sleep, but even Barrani could starve to death.
The small dragon bit her ear hard enough, she was certain, to draw blood. She let loose a volley of Leontine as she opened her eyes and grabbed for him with her left hand. Her right remained tightly clasped around the Consorts.
Lord Kaylin, your ear is bleeding.
I kind of guessed that. I dont suppose you have a cage?
The small dragon squawked. He batted her face with surprisingly heavy wings as he pushed off her shoulder, roundly berating her in his unintelligible bird-speak.
Except what she heard was cadence. Rhythm. Nothing in his lizard vocal chords evoked music, but she realized that he was trying to sing when both of the eagles fixed their gaze on him. Their voices rose; she was caught instantly by the shift in their song, as if it were current and she was almost drowning.
Her very frustrating companion squawked back. It was a harsh noise; it blended with nothing. If hed tried to coax notes out of a drum, hed have had an easier time. As if he could hear the thought, he then turned his attention back to Kaylin, and this time, his voice was softer and almost plaintive, although it wasnt any more musical.
You want me to sing? she asked.
He nodded with his whole body, bobbing up and down in place.
Only because youve never heard me. She glanced once, apprehensively, at the gathered Barrani lords. Singing off-key and out of tune in the West March was not the same as singing with the foundlings in the foundling halls, and that was the only place she readily joined a group song.
But the small dragon landed on her shoulder and nudged her cheek, and she knew he not only meant her to sing, but meant to join her. How much worse could she sound?
What, Nightshade said sharply, do you intend to sing?
Badly, and probably off-key, whatever it is, she replied. But not on purpose. The eagles are singing, she added, and I think small and squeaky wants me to join them.
The eagles are not singing, the Lord of the West March said.
But they are, Lord Barian said. The two mens gazes met, and both fell silent.
Kaylin wanted to ask Lord Lirienne what he heard, but the eagles voices had grown higher and more urgent, and she turned to listen, closing her eyes and concentrating on a song that was two parts. Two parts, and what seemed like a dozen. There was no room for her voice in the throng.
She made room. She wound her voicedissonant, unmusical, and uncertainaround the squawking of her small dragon, finding words that spoke to what she heard, even if there were no similar words in the music of the dreams and nightmares of a Hallionne. Feeling self-conscious made her voice even weaker than it usually was, but it wouldnt be the first time shed made a total fool of herself.