Cast in Honor (Chronicles of Elantra, #11)(123)

“Who doesn’t?”

“I do not. It is what it is. It is, in the end, the sum of its experiences. Does it destroy? Yes. But so do the Towers and the Guardians. It is not personal.”

“And are Shadows involved in this?”

“No. Not directly, and perhaps not at all.”

“Then what is?”

“Shall we see?” He took one step forward, and as Kaylin followed, the world reasserted itself. Annarion, Severn and the Arkon waited. Annarion gave her a tiny nod of acknowledgment; his eyes were blue. Blue and...gold. It was a very striking combination.

“We found Evanton,” she said—to the Dragon. “And I think we need to take a different road to the Winding Path.”

“What exactly does that mean?”

“See those halls?” She pointed to the spherical absence that had once been worn, wooden flooring.

The Arkon frowned.

“We need to go there.”

*

She lost Nightshade when she regained sight of the rest of the world. She noticed his absence instantly. “I don’t understand time.”

“No. But you are not meant to understand it except in one way. You follow time; you are captive to it.” This was not the usual variant on the inferiority of mortals; Gilbert didn’t seem capable of genuine condescension.

Kaylin nodded. Severn fell in beside her. “We’re looking for stairs,” she said. “Down.”

“My function is not to preserve you or your kind. That is, perhaps, the function of what you call the Towers.”

“The Towers don’t—”

“They have their limits and their instructions, yes. Within the confines of the Tower—as with Helen—they are...elastic. They have enlarged functionality. But their confines are very, very strictly drawn, very strictly contained. It was not always so,” he added. He looked as if he would say more, but fell silent as he glanced at Kattea.

Kattea said, “I’m better at finding stairs than you are.”

“This is true.”

“Put me down.”

“I do not wish to lose you, Kattea.”

“You’re the one who gets lost all the time.” She squirmed her way out of Gilbert’s arms, and he let her go. She then took off for the kitchen and paused to grab something from the table before heading out into the mess of a storefront.

“She’s eating your cookies,” Severn observed.

“Hey!”

The Arkon coughed. “They’re probably stale, anyway,” Kaylin muttered. To Gilbert, she said, “So...back to your function.”

“My function is simply to preserve the structural integrity of time.”

“Is that why the water was afraid you would destroy her?”

“Yes.”

“But you’re not going to destroy her.”

“No.”

“Would you have?”

The Arkon exhaled smoke.

“Would you like to take over the rest of this conversation?” she demanded.

“Yes. There will be fewer interruptions of an entirely pointless and frivolous nature. You,” he added, “may help Kattea find the stairs.”

*

There were, as it turned out, no stairs. Kattea, however, found a trapdoor. She stepped away and Severn pulled it open, using the hook built into the handle to hold it in place. “Stairs?” Kaylin asked.

“Not exactly. I think there’s a ramp.”

“Think?”

“We’re going to need some light.”

*

Light was found—Evanton’s store had lamps with varying levels of oil—and Severn was proved correct: there was a ramp. It was, however, made of wood; sliding down was out of the question unless one wanted a backside full of splinters. The Arkon looked about as amused at the idea of ramps as Kaylin was at the idea of a backside full of splinters.

Mandoran and Annarion went down first.

Gilbert followed; when he was halfway down the ramp, Kattea leaped onto his back, which nearly sent him tumbling into the Barrani. The Arkon was pretty much steaming at this point. He glared dubiously at the ramp. “Private, Corporal, you go first.”

Kaylin opened her mouth.

“I do not believe the ramp will sustain my weight.”

He wasn’t wrong. Although he looked—for the moment—like an armored old man, his weight was closer to the draconic end of the scale; the ramp snapped when he was halfway down the incline. Fortunately, the rest of their party had already cleared the area.

“Have you considered the significance of these halls?” The Arkon asked, after he’d picked himself up and dusted himself off.

“I consider them pretty significant,” she said, after a pause. “But—Evanton wasn’t aware of halls beneath Elani, and I would have bet real money that they didn’t exist before Gilbert and Kattea made their way here.”

“Do you think they were created by the water?”

A good question. “No.”

“But the water found Gilbert and Kattea and moved them—two people who were not, originally, from our time—here?”

“Well, yes—I don’t think Kattea was lying.”

“And Gilbert?”

“Gilbert doesn’t understand enough about our way of life to be a good liar. No. I don’t think either were deliberately falsifying events.” She hesitated. Gilbert had forbidden the use of mirrors. And mirrors existed across the city—even in the fiefs. Except for now.