Her arms ached. The burning, she was used toif one could ever get used to that sense of skin being seared. But they also trembled, as if shed been carrying way too much for too long. She looked at the small dragon; he was watching her, his squawk gentled to a croon.
She wished she could understand him. For now, it was enough that the eagles seemed to. The only two people caught in this song that couldnt were Kaylin and the Consort herself, because as Kaylin found voice and exposed a ridiculous vanity, she heard the Consort singing.
But the Consort lay unmoving, her eyes and lips closed. Her skin, sallow, was now beaded with perspirationbut so was Kaylins. It made it hard to keep the grip on her hand. She changed that grip, entwining their fingers and tightening her hold.
She didnt know what the birds hoped to wake, and in the end, that wasnt her problem. What she wantedwhat she neededwas to wake the Consort. She needed to make herself heard over the beautiful storm of sound that occurred when dream and nightmare clashed.
The dragon batted her cheek and shook his head.
The marks on her arm were a gold-white glow; she had to squint to read them. Not only were they on the edge of tear-inducing brightness, they seemed to be moving as she watched.
Gripping the Consorts hand tightly enough she started to lose feeling in her own fingers, Kaylin reached out with her free hand, passing it over the brilliant lines and dots that formed runes on most of her skin. They were warm, but not searing, beneath her callused palmbut they werent solid. She felt resistance as her hand passed through them. The small dragon was bouncing up and down, although he didnt stop his noisemaking; nor did he vary its rhythm.
Still, she understood that he meant her to do what she was tryingand failingto do: take them in hand. Lift them.
No, she thought. Not them. One. Just one. In the past, she had lost marks before: to the trapped spirit of a dead dragon, to the Devourer, to the small dragon hatchling. But the marks had lifted themselves off her skin; she hadnt chosen. She hadnt had to choose.
She had no idea why they were hers; someone immortal, someone older, wiser, and more knowledgeablesomeone like the Arkonshould have been chosen instead. She didnt know what they were for. She had no idea why a word was necessary nowbut she understood, watching the marks, that it was. And that this time, the hand of the Ancients wasnt going to make the choice for her.
Her hands shook, and not because she was nervous. She closed her eyes.
Eyes closed, she could still see the marks, but the light didnt burn her vision. Her body didnt impede it, either. It wasnt just the marks on her arms that were slowly beginning to rise.
Chapter 8
She could seewith her eyes closedthe shape of nightmares. They were clearer and darker than they had been the first time shed encountered them; there was so much light here, the edges of shadow wings were harsher and sharper. They implied birdor maybe batwithout any of the other physical traits: they were like the shadows the eagles cast in flight.
She held on to that thought as the voices of the actual eagles filled her awareness, blending in rhythm, if not in actual sound, with the voice of her squawky sidekick. Her ear was throbbing. After this was done, shed have pointed words with the little dragon.
The shadows filled her vision as they wheeled in the confined space.
Except it wasnt confined; it had no obvious shape, no floor, no roof, no walls; it implied a vast and endless skythe kind youd crane your neck to look up at. But it was a sky without color or cloud. She heard the voices of those shadows as clearly as she heard the eagles of Alsanis.
She looked down.
It was a mistake. She could see herself. She wasnt translucent, and she wasnt terribly impressive, but the dress she wore was: it was the essence of green, and green was the color of life in the West March. It was, she thoughtand wondered whythe color of blood.
Beneath her feet, the shadows swooped and darted, their flight patterns interwoven with the patterns of feathered wings. They had no obvious beaks, no obvious faces, but their song came from somewhere, and it echoed. Given that there was nothing for sound to bounce off, this was impressive.
But no, even that was wrong: there was. The runes that graced over half of her skin had expanded outward in the shape of a sphere, and the sounds of raised voices were caught and returned by each element they touched. The shadows flew through them, rather than around; the flight path of the eagles was therefore far more constrained.
She almost opened her eyes when the small dragon bit her earagain. It was more a nibble than an actual bite; she turned automatically in his direction and saw, to her surprise, that he was present in this vision. His body was composed of the same translucent flesh, and his eyes were the same black opalescence. But his wings seemed both more amorphous and larger; they were, she realized, very like the wings of the shadows above in shape and size; they passed through her, although his claws did not.
The only thing Kaylin couldnt see was the Consort.
The small dragon warbled and nudged her cheek. Kaylin opened her eyes.
Nothing changed.
She closed her eyes and opened them again, but the odd sky, occupied as it was by runes and birds and their cast shadows, remained firmly fixed in her vision; she turned, and turned again, looking up and down as she did. She was no longer in the Consorts room.
Lirienne.
There was no answer.
Nightshade?
Silence. She inhaled slowly, counting to ten. The small dragon bit her ear. This time it was harder, and his warble was higher. Exhaling, Kaylin nodded, remembering what she had so reluctantly set out to do. She began to sing. She had faint hope that her actual bodyshe had no doubt she still had onewas silent in the halls of the Lord of the West March. Barrani voices were clear and resonant and she had never heard one sing off-key, not that song was common.
Mortal voices, not so much, and Kaylins was on the bottom end of that scale.
But this wasnt about the quality of voice. It wasnt even about the words; she could have chosen words at random, the syllables of the eagles made so little sense. It was about harmony. About tone. It was about rhythm. It was about emotion, because even if she couldnt understand a single word, she felt she understood intent.
But this wasnt about the quality of voice. It wasnt even about the words; she could have chosen words at random, the syllables of the eagles made so little sense. It was about harmony. About tone. It was about rhythm. It was about emotion, because even if she couldnt understand a single word, she felt she understood intent.
There was a desolation, a yearning, and an emptiness in this song. No, not emptiness, but an awareness of loss, of all that had been lost and might never come again. It was hard to listen carefully with her eyes open, and as closing her eyes didnt apparently change a damn thing, she gave up trying.
The eagles flew. The shadows flew. Their song soared and plummeted, as if it were the sole expression of everything they were. Maybe it was. She couldnt understand more than the emotion behind the long, winding wordsand she probably didnt understand all of that, either. Just enough.
She became aware, as she watched, that her marks were stationary. So was she. While the eagles flew, while the shadows darted, she was as fixed in place as any of the marks. The small dragons claws curled into her collarbone, and she grimaced; her song banked briefly while she struggled not to swear.
She was mostly prepared when the dragons wings began to flap; they were silent, their movements suggesting power and grace. Kaylin began to move. Her flight was unwieldy; it had none of the grace or speed of the dreams or nightmares. But the slow, steady climb took her closer to the nearest of the floating marks.
It was larger than she was. She could see every detail of its full shape; on her arm, it was flattened and almost lifeless in comparison. It seemed natural that it shed its brilliant, golden light; it was like sunbut it didnt burn and didnt blind. At least, not yet. It felt almost alive as she reached out to touch it. She couldnt read it; it was too large for that. She couldnt intuit its meaning.
But she had come here to find the Consort.
The marks that adorned her skin were like a miniature world around her. They were individual glyphs, differing in shape and size, in simplicity and complexity. They were very like images that might be called up in Records for her inspection. And she knew, again, that she had to choose one.
She didnt have time to waffle, but to make a decision based onon nothing, really, when so much rode on the outcome, was almost paralyzing. She let her hand fall away. As it did, the rune faded from sight. She nodded to the small dragon and began her awkward flight toward the next one.
Every time she failed to choose a mark, it vanished. When this had happened a dozen times, she realized that the marks were returning to her skin. They were still glowing, and frankly, when they were part of her skin, they were warm. With so few reattached, it was uncomfortable; she had no doubt, when she was done, it would be painful.
But shed live with the pain if she could wake the Consort.
Hells, shed live with the pain at this point if she could find the Consort. The sky was full of wings and runes and nothing else; the birds circled; the shadows circled. The Consort was nowhere to be seen. Kaylin forced panic to take a backseat again; it was hard because it kept trying to grab the reins and set the course. She inspected rune after rune, wondering if this many of them could truly fit on her skin.
Every so often the small dragon bit her ear to catch her attention; it was always when she had forgotten to keep singing. Had he not been her only viable form of movement, shedve bit him back.
The sky was slowly becoming an empty space; the flight patterns of the dreams and the nightmares of Alsanis had become less complex with the reabsorption of each word. Kaylin still hadnt found the one she was looking forand she was terrified that she hadnt because she didnt know what she was looking for.