Cast in Honor (Chronicles of Elantra, #11)(38)

“Asking him about Gilbert,” she replied. “Sort of. And possibly listening to his take on gaining entry to ancient ruins, some of which might be malevolent.”

They both glanced at Teela.

Mandoran rolled his eyes and glared at the Barrani Hawk. Clearly another conversation was unfolding between the two Barrani, courtesy of their exchanged True Names. Mandoran confirmed this. “I don’t understand why Teela considers it such a bad idea to give you my name. I’m not insisting anyone else do it. But this style of speech is slow and inexact, and your verbal explanations leave a lot to be desired.”

“She probably considers it a bad idea because I’m terrible at filtering. If I had your name, you’d probably know everything I was thinking the moment I thought it.”

“And that’s bad how?”

“For me, it would be bad.”

Mandoran glared at Teela again. Teela was probably glaring at Kaylin. Something invisible squawked. Kaylin recognized the voice instantly, but couldn’t actually see where it was coming from.

“Teela, where is small and squawky?”

Annarion tensed; Mandoran rolled his eyes. Mandoran was easily the most human Barrani Kaylin had ever met. Clearly, this had its pros and cons. “He’s sitting about a foot above the table, chewing on his wing tips.”

Squawk.

“You honestly can’t see him?”

“Kaylin,” Teela interjected, “is one of the worst liars you will ever meet.”

“I didn’t always suck at lying.”

“You probably didn’t speak as much, then. If she says she can’t see him, she can’t see him. I don’t see why it’s so difficult to believe; I can’t see him, either.”

“You can hear him, though,” Mandoran pointed out.

“The entire house can probably hear him.” Teela rose. “Is he trying to prove a point?”

It was Kaylin who answered. “Probably.”

“Which?”

“In general? I’m mortal and therefore incompetent. It’s the same point most of my friends try to prove when they’re on a tear. If he’s not uncomfortable where he is, he can stay there for a bit.” Kaylin folded her arms. “Helen says you’ve learned a lot in the past three weeks.”

“That’s not what she’s been telling us.”

“I believe she was talking about Annarion.”

Annarion’s lips twitched.

“How much control do you think you have?” Kaylin directed her question to Nightshade’s guilt-ridden younger brother.

“If I was certain I had enough, do you think I would still be here?”

“Fair enough. How uncertain are you?”

“I constantly feel like I have enough control. Helen, however, does not agree. In this case, I have chosen to trust Helen’s judgment over both my own and my need for haste and movement.”

Squawk. SQUAWK.

“It appears,” Helen’s disembodied voice said, “that Hope considers me overly cautious. If you are willing to accept his company, he believes he understands the difficulty now.”

“And he didn’t before?”

“Apparently not, dear.

“I’m not certain I consider that wise,” Helen then said, to the very noisy thin air.

The small dragon appeared to be telling her just how much her opinion counted. Had the small creature been on Kaylin’s shoulders, she would have attempted to cover his mouth. Annarion rose, walked over to where Kaylin sat and knelt before her. It made Kaylin incredibly uncomfortable.

“Your familiar believes he can counter the worst of the...noise...I make if he remains in his current form.”

Kaylin nodded. “Look, can you get up? This is kind of ridiculous.”

Annarion ignored her request. She looked to Teela for help. Teela shrugged. It was a stiff shrug; her lips were thin, her eyes narrowed.

“The familiar cannot provide the dampening effect if he is not in his current form.”

“The invisible one?”

Squawk.

Kaylin said, “No, wait, let me guess. He isn’t actually invisible. He’s just invisible to anyone who naturally lives in the mortal world.”

Teela cleared her throat.

“You know what I meant.”

“Yes. And I still take exception to it. You are, however, correct. I can see what Mandoran and Annarion see—but it takes a great deal of effort and it gives me an almost instant headache. Our eyes were not meant to see the familiar as he exists now. If it’s any consolation, without shifting out of the state he occupies, he can’t cause actual harm—to us, anyway.”

“Can he bite the other two?”

“They seem to feel so.”

“If you want my permission,” Kaylin told Annarion, “it’s yours. You have it.”

Annarion clearly wasn’t begging for her permission to take the small dragon. “Your familiar cannot remain anchored to the plane—as Mandoran and I are—in this form. Not if you’re not with him.”

Which explained Teela’s expression.

“He is willing to accompany me—”

“Us,” Mandoran interjected.

“...Us. But to do so, you must also accompany us.” He swallowed. “You have no reason to trust my brother, and little reason to love him. He has sacrificed much. But he is the only living member of my family that I acknowledge.”