Cast in Honor (Chronicles of Elantra, #11)(17)

The Dragon stared at him, unmoved.

Kaylin said quietly, “Bellusdeo walked the path between worlds to arrive in Elantra. Her world was lost to the Shadows.”

“I did not say that there was no danger; there is always an element of danger when dealing with the powerful. You,” he said, nodding to Bellusdeo, “are a danger to everyone in this room. I intend you—and your citizens—no harm.”

“And the child?” Bellusdeo asked.

“It is as she said. When I stumbled into the fief—and it seems an odd demarcation—I met Kattea. Minor creatures are given free rein in the streets of the fief; she would not have survived them. She called out to me; she asked me to come to her aid. I chose, for reasons of my own, to do so.”

“And those reasons are?”

“I say, again, that I have no harmful intent.”

“And we are to trust you? Your kind has done irreparable harm here, as well as elsewhere.”

“I am aware that it will be difficult to convince you. You have long held my kind in contempt. I am to be judged, always, by the actions of others—actions I would not have chosen to take.” To Kaylin, he said, “How is it that you chose to come first to my home? What error did I make?”

Kaylin shook her head to clear it. What Gilbert appeared to be claiming—that Shadows had free will and that they functioned as individuals—was a new thought, at least to Kaylin. It went against everything she had been told about Shadows; it went against anything she had ever personally experienced.

Yes, Shadows were not uniform in shape or size, although there were Ferals. There were one-offs, as her old friend Morse called them: creatures with too many limbs or no limbs or too many heads or too many mouths in one head—the list was endless. Shadows could be freaking weather. But every Shadow of any stripe Kaylin had encountered thus far had been attempting to kill. Or worse. The Shadows in Kaylin’s day-to-day life existed solely to torment, corrupt and ultimately destroy. Oh, and rule everything.

The Towers had been created by the Ancients to guard against the Shadow incursions that could otherwise destroy not only a city, but a world. Helen had defenses against Shadows, and she wasn’t even built in the fiefs.

Kaylin’s first thought—and second, and third—was that Gilbert was lying. That he had to be lying. But Kattea seemed neither injured nor cowed. She seemed, if anything, apprehensive and indignant—on Gilbert’s behalf, as he certainly wasn’t either on his own.

“Bellusdeo,” Teela said, “is this possible? You have the greater experience.”

Bellusdeo opened her mouth seconds after the small dragon opened his. This time, the translucent creature breathed.

Kaylin had seen this a few times now. The first time, she had understood the pearlescent cloud to be dangerous by the quality of blue in Barrani eyes. The second had confirmed the earlier Barrani opinion. A group of giant Ferals—for want of a better word—had attacked them on their recent journey to the West March and swallowed those clouds.

The clouds had destroyed them.

This seemed fair to Kaylin, because the Ferals’ blood had attempted to destroy the Barrani, and in what she assumed was a similar fashion: it spread, transmuting Barrani flesh into—well, into something that was no longer Barrani. Kaylin’s ability to heal couldn’t stop that transformation: she’d had to cut out the bad bits and start from there. The changes made by the combination of flesh and Shadow blood had instantly become the “healthy” or “default” state of the body. What the finished product of that default state would look like, she didn’t know; she’d worked desperately to make sure that it never happened.

This cloud hovered above the food in the still air of the room.

Since Teela and Tain were already on high alert, its existence didn’t noticeably change their expressions or their eye colors—in fact, Teela’s eyes might have actually lightened.

Gilbert stared intently at the cloud. Kattea sensibly asked, “Is it dangerous?” She spoke to Gilbert.

“Indeterminate,” he replied. At Kattea’s frown, he added, “I’m not certain yet. Is it?” he asked the small dragon.

The small dragon squawked.

Gilbert frowned. When he answered, he spoke in a language that Kaylin couldn’t understand. It was not a language that felt familiar, either; its vowels seemed sharp enough to cut the tongue on.

The small dragon squawked.

Oddly enough, this interchange seemed to set everyone else at ease—or as much at ease as they were likely to get—except Kattea, who frowned. “Why can’t you speak a language I can understand?” she demanded.

“I do not believe he is capable of it,” Gilbert replied. “And even if he is, there are some concepts I cannot easily discuss in your tongue. It is not always comfortable to exist in this fashion. My kin are often less confined in the shapes they choose to take.”

“He won’t teach me,” Kattea said to Kaylin. It was the first time she’d sounded less than perky.

“I don’t think he can,” Kaylin replied.

“Why not?”

“Because he’s not human.”

Kattea rolled her eyes. “So?”

“We’re mostly stuck being what we are,” Kaylin replied. “We can learn to do more—or less—with what we are. We can live on either side of the bridge. We can learn to hunt Ferals—” Kattea shrunk into Gilbert’s side, at this “—even if we start out hiding in abandoned buildings and praying they can’t get in. But Teela is Barrani. She’s immortal. She’s going to live forever. She doesn’t really get cold and she doesn’t need to sleep. There are a lot of things we can do together, but I’m never going to be immortal, and when I get no sleep, it’s really bad.