beast. She trusted it only because Nightshade was its Lord, and even then the trust was mired in echoes of her childhood and the specters those raised. But she couldn’t imagine that Nightshade’s Tower could be compromised the way Tara had almost been compromised.
She didn’t understand how Towers chose their lords. She knew that Barren could not be Lord of the fief that had nonetheless taken his name. She didn’t understand the mechanics well.
And would you take Candallar, if you could? Nightshade asked.
No. Helen is my home. She exhaled. I was just thinking that Dragon fieflords would work out better.
There was genuine amusement in Nightshade’s internal struggle. Yes, you were. But Kaylin, that is only true for you because you have seen so few of Dragonkind. Were you to have the breadth of experience that those who fought in the wars possess, you would understand why I find the concept amusing. Those Dragons you have met, those Dragons about whom you have knowledge, were those who could accept the Eternal Emperor.
She nodded as Bellusdeo breathed a plume of fire across the stones nearest the Ravellon border. The Dragon barked a single, curt word in Elantran, and Kaylin obeyed; she followed in the Dragon’s wake. Severn, weapons in either hand, did the same. He wasn’t tense or angry in the way Bellusdeo was, but he was on high alert.
Hope, Kaylin reflected, made her sloppy.
I hardly think it fair to blame that on the familiar, Nightshade observed. Are you familiar with the method of investigation Lord Bellusdeo is now employing?
Not really. I’m not sure it’s something that she can teach the rest of us. The Norannir have their own way of guarding against Shadow. Tiamaris trusts them.
Yes. But his is the position of strength in that fief; he can afford to trust.
* * *
The Candallar border was judged secure by Bellusdeo, although her eyes remained a dark red as she gazed past the barrier and into the Shadow lands that had destroyed the home she had built. Kaylin’s immediate fear was not of Shadow; she watched the skies for any sign of dark wings, black body—any hint of the rising of the Dragon outcaste.
Bellusdeo’s angry roars had not summoned him. The Dragon had nothing to fight, and Kaylin thought a fight would be viscerally welcome—if incredibly dangerous—to Bellusdeo. Kaylin kept an eye on the buildings that were closest to the border. Those closest were unoccupied by anything that was larger than a rat; some were missing roofs, and the walls were slanted.
Not even the desperate sought shelter here, so close to where the Ferals started, and ended, their evening hunts. No one would have done so in Nightshade, either. But in Tiamaris, the Norannir had peopled the border, and buildings very unlike these were in the process of being erected. They feared the Shadow, yes—but they hated it, as Bellusdeo hated it.
If they had lost their home and their world, they were grim guardians against the possibility of a similar fate in this one.
“Where are you going?”
Kaylin looked away from the buildings and the hints of scuttling mice.
Bellusdeo, golden scales muted as clouds rolled across the sun’s face, said, “The border zone.”
* * *
Given Bellusdeo’s mood, questioning her was a bit of a gamble, and not the kind in which a stroke of good fortune enriched the questioner. Kaylin had always been silent in the presence of those with superior power, in the hope that she wouldn’t draw their attention or their ire. She knew Bellusdeo wouldn’t hurt her, but old habits were hard to shake.
Instead, she thought about why Bellusdeo wanted to enter the border zone here. “This leads to Durant.”
“Indeed. We have visited the border zone between Tiamaris and Candallar, and I would like to see how it shifts—if it does—between other fiefs.”
“Why?”
“Because Lannagaros’s reaction implied information that he did not choose to share with me.”
“Maybe he didn’t think it relevant?”
“Unlikely.”
“Maybe he was afraid if he did you’d do something reckless on your own. Like, say, fly across all the fiefs and enter the bloody border zones!”
A large Dragon could shrug in a very fief-like way. “It is all information he would find useful, and I will share it with him.”
“After he coughs up the rest?”
Apparently enormous, heavily toothy Dragon jaws could imply a smug grin. “You understand.”
Try to talk her out of it, Kaylin told her partner. She’s way more likely to listen to you.
There’s a trick to that, he replied in a resigned tone.
What is it?
Give her advice