Cast in Honor (Chronicles of Elantra, #11)(134)

She looked at the floating eyes. “Can you keep them coherent? Can you keep them safe, here?”

Gilbert didn’t answer. The two of his eyes that had once been set into the water’s Avatar floated away, gaining speed as they approached the two Barrani. Mandoran raised his hands to swat them away. Annarion, on the other hand, had an armful of Tain to deal with.

Regardless, the eyes gained enough speed to ram into the foreheads of both Mandoran and Annarion.

Mandoran had developed very, very impressive Leontine. Annarion, Kaylin decided, was just one of those people to whom cursing would never come naturally. Which was a pity; Kaylin would be swearing herself blue in the face had one of those eyes attached themselves to her actual forehead.

Both the Barrani now had a third eye—an open third eye that was the wrong color—just above the bridge of their noses, between their brows. Their natural eyes blinked rapidly; the borrowed eyes did not.

When Annarion fell to one knee, Kaylin ran toward him. It surprised her—and his older brother—when he didn’t wave her off. Instead, he allowed her to slide an arm beneath his arms and take some of his weight while he regained his footing. “My brother can see all this, can’t he?”

“...Sorry.”

“Not as sorry as I’m going to be.” He inhaled deeply, exhaled and said, “Thank you, Gilbert.”

Gilbert didn’t respond.

“Does it help you to see?”

“Yes. It helps me to see only one thing. It helps Mandoran, too, but he’s more vain. He really dislikes the look of the extra eye.”

“Gentlemen,” the Arkon said, in the testiest of voices. “You are all incredibly unattractive to me; the extra eye makes no difference. Shall we?”

Both Barrani had the grace to redden, which added welcome color to their faces. Nightshade was not impressed.

“What should we do with Tain?” Annarion asked.

“Give him to me,” Teela demanded. “I’d wait outside, but I don’t think outside is going to be any safer.”





Chapter 28

“What do you see with the extra eye?” Kaylin asked. The Arkon’s breath had gotten rid of the stairs that led to the front door—which was fine, because they’d also done away with the door. At the moment, Kaylin’s primary concern was what remained of the first-story floor in the wake of Dragon breath.

The Arkon wasn’t worried about the flooring or the possible fall, but he was a Dragon, after all. Kaylin, however, couldn’t expect to fall through a crumbling floor and land without injury.

He pushed Kaylin out of the way and pretty much stomped in. “Where is the—” He froze.

This was not promising.

From her position directly behind the Arkon, Kaylin couldn’t see what had caused him to freeze. “Arkon?”

“I do not care what the Emperor says,” the Arkon said. “If we survive this, I am going to burn the Arcanum to the ground.”

“You’d have the full support of most of the Halls of Law,” Kaylin told his back. “What are you staring at?”

He moved to the side, and she entered the house—or tried. Standing in front of her, with a very dubious expression, was...herself. “Is this a mirror?” she asked the Arkon. “Can you see your own reflection?” She couldn’t see his reflection—only her own.

“It’s more complicated than that, but yes.” He snorted in disgust, and small flames lapped the edge of his beard. The Arkon drove his fist into the mirror; the mirror didn’t shatter.

To the familiar, Kaylin asked, “Can you do anything?”

Silence.

“Mandoran? Annarion?”

The answer was a resounding no. They saw exactly what the Arkon and Kaylin could see: images of themselves. Only Mandoran seemed to find this disturbing.

The Arkon chose to share his disgust in loud draconic. Kaylin lifted her hands to cover her ears, as his speech was not brief.

Bellusdeo replied. Her voice was thinner; it lacked its usual resonance. Kaylin told herself that this was because it lacked her usual anger, but couldn’t make herself believe it. And only an idiot wasted time trying to believe their own lies.

“Is Sanabalis with her?”

“Yes. He is...injured.”

“Maggaron?”

“He is—understand that this is Bellusdeo’s phrasing—‘stupid.’”

Which meant alive, but not in great shape. “Is she in the basement?”

The Arkon spoke again. This took longer. So did Bellusdeo’s reply. “Yes. She recognizes it from Records. She cannot hear you, by the way; she can hear me. I do not think she can hear Annarion or Mandoran, either.”

The two Barrani were conferring. They did so in silence, although Mandoran’s expression made it clear that it wasn’t an amusing conversation. “We think there’s a way in,” he finally said.

“Good,” the Arkon replied. “Find it.”

Mandoran approached the mirror. To Kaylin’s surprise, she could now see his reflection as well as her own; the Arkon’s was still absent. He reached out, placed his palm against the center of his own reflection and pushed. The reflective surface, which had showed no sign of reaction at all to a Dragon’s weight and momentum, bent. It didn’t break; it stretched.