on the Dragon were to occur, there was no safer place for the attackers.
“It won’t be safe for them,” the Dragon had countered. “I am not required to retain my human form, either. There is no prohibition against breathing on the foolish.” Her smile had too many teeth in it.
Mandoran and Terrano chose to land—and reappear—when the Hawks reached the bridge; they crossed it on foot.
“You don’t need to do that for my sake,” Bellusdeo said.
“It’s not for yours,” Terrano replied. “Can’t you see it?”
The Dragon’s eyes narrowed.
“I’ll take that as a no. Mandoran can’t see it either, if that’s helpful.”
“It’s not.”
Terrano turned to Kaylin. “She’s always like this, isn’t she?”
Kaylin offered a universal fief shrug. “Can you dim your visibility here?”
“That? Yes. But the flying part isn’t really safe for us when we’re near the border.”
“I have no issues flying over the borders.”
“No, but you’re a Dragon. You come by wings naturally. We have to fiddle a bit.”
The Dragon’s eyes were orange. “We are definitely saving this discussion for later. When we’re surrounded by Helen.”
“It doesn’t matter whether you’re visible or not. We’re in Candallar. The fieflord will know. The Tower will know.”
This fief looked far more like Nightshade than Tiamaris. The buildings were old and structurally questionable, but people occupied them, scurrying from window to window in the upper floors. Kaylin’s gaze was drawn there; she felt almost as if she had never really left the fiefs.
It was a feeling she hated. The tabards she and Severn wore weren’t exactly discouraging; the Barrani who accompanied them were more of a threat or a warning to anyone who might seek them out.
“You intend to go the direct route?” Terrano asked.
“Might as well. If he doesn’t want to speak with us, we’ll never find him.”
“And if he does?”
“I don’t suggest we do it on the inside of his Tower.”
“No. If he insists, I will wait outside.” Bellusdeo grinned. “I’ve half a mind to shift form and wait outside now. While the Tower does have control of elements of the fief, Towers wield absolute control only within their walls. Candallar will be aware of our presence and our location if the Tower alerts him or if he is looking. Or,” she added with a sweeter smile, “if he is, in fact, in the fief at all.”
* * *
Bellusdeo didn’t go full Dragon. She walked, her escort mortal Hawks and theoretical Barrani. Neither Terrano nor Mandoran could stiffen their faces and postures into those suitable for Barrani guards, and neither were of a mind to try.
“He’s here,” Terrano said as Kaylin felt a twinge across her forearms.
“How close?”
“Not close. But he’s aware of us now.”
“I can’t see him.”
“No. Ask your familiar for help.”
Hope lifted a wing before Kaylin could comply. Candallar was standing in the center of the street, alone, some twenty yards from the formidable height of the Tower that bore his name. His eyes were firmly fixed on Bellusdeo.
The haze around his body shifted and lessened, dissipating as she watched. Hope once again withdrew his wing.
“Well met,” Candallar said. “Well met, Lord Bellusdeo. Lords Kaylin, Severn, Terrano and Mandoran.”
Kaylin stiffened.
“I had heard rumors that you might pay a visit to my humble abode. I am honored.”
Mandoran stepped forward and stood one step to the left of Bellusdeo—but in front. Bellusdeo said nothing. Her eyes remained orange, not red; her expression implied a chilly lack of amusement. She did offer Candallar a nod. “Fieflord.”
Mandoran, however, said, “Lord Candallar.” He bowed.
“That is no longer what I am called by my kin.”
“It is what you are called in the territory you rule. We have no quarrel with Candallar, although that was perhaps not always true.”
The fieflord had an easy, friendly smile. It was almost charming, which put Kaylin further on guard, something she would have bet wasn’t possible.
“You refer, perhaps, to your ascension in the High Court? I have heard only rumors; many of my sources of information have gone silent in the past few days.”
“Indeed. It has long been true that choosing the wrong side has consequences.”
“It has also been said that peaceful climes do not a warrior make.”
“We were not raised in peaceful climes,” Mandoran replied, Terrano stiff and almost lifeless at Kaylin’s side. “We were not bred for it; we were not trained for it. If the wars that were responsible for our journey to the green have ended, and we are now at peace with the Dragons, the experiences that formed us remain.”
This was not the discussion that Kaylin