Cast in Honor (Chronicles of Elantra, #11)(52)

*

Kaylin’s biggest question, as she followed the Arkon’s impatient lead, was Yes, but are you going to accept?

Squawk.

She missed a step, her eyes narrowing in the rough direction of the small dragon voice. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Several, if history is our guide.”

“Why are you willing to trust my familiar?”

“That question is even intelligent.”

Squawk.

“Yes, intelligent enough that I will answer it.”

If he’d been sitting on her shoulder, she’d have clamped a hand over his tiny mouth.

“I am willing to trust him because he is yours.”

“But—but—”

“Yes?”

“You don’t trust me that much!”

“Ah. I don’t trust your competence, no. You are far too impulsive—too young—but I see that you have that in common with the two visitors you have brought.” Mandoran, who had started to look smug, frowned. “Your familiar’s competence, I trust. He is not young. I am not certain he has ever been young.”

“But he was just born—”

“—during the chaos spell, yes. But born is inexact in this case. He emerged. If you think that his existence began with an eggshell, you are wrong. His competence is wed to your intent. Your intent, Private Neya, only a fool would distrust.” When Kaylin failed to reply, he continued, “You do not understand the forces with which you now interact. That is to be expected; even I do not understand them fully.

“Your familiar understands them far better than either of us. But he is your familiar. He has chosen you. Until you perish—and given your history, that is likely to be sooner than later—he serves you. You can command him, but you do not; you will not learn how. Nor,” he added, lifting a hand to still her protest, “can I teach you. What your familiar would be in my hands, he cannot be in yours—but I do not think, in the end, he would have consented to serve me. He came to you.”

“He wasn’t born to me,” she pointed out.

“Was he not?” He gestured at a patch of blank wall, and the wall faded. As far as doors went, this was preferable—the wall had no wards that Kaylin was expected to touch. Bellusdeo was, as the Arkon had said, waiting. She was seated in a room that was almost shockingly bare.

Usually, there was so much stuff everywhere that it wasn’t even safe to walk.

Bellusdeo rose to greet them. “Lannagaros and I have been discussing the investigation to which you are currently assigned.”

“Can he make any more sense of it than we can?”

“Almost certainly,” the Arkon replied before Bellusdeo could. “But regrettably, more sense and enough sense are not the same. I am concerned,” he added. “I have been told that the Keeper is also concerned. And anything that concerns the Keeper...” He walked into the room. It housed not a desk, but a table, much like a dining room table. The centerpiece of that table was a stone pyramid. The Arkon took a seat at the head of the table.

Teela’s eyes had not gotten any greener, but she took the chair beside Bellusdeo. Severn took the chair to the Arkon’s immediate left, and Kaylin sat beside him; Mandoran and Annarion sat beside her.

Kaylin turned to Bellusdeo. “Did you mention Kattea?”

“And Gilbert, yes,” the Arkon again replied on her behalf. “Understand that Bellusdeo has lost more to Shadow than you have ever owned. Her fears are rational; they are based in experience. Her knowledge is invaluable.

“You came to ask me about the bodies?”

She’d come because he’d pretty much demanded her presence, but she was politic enough not to say this out loud. “I came to ask about the bodies, but also ancient ruins and their entry points.”

“Records,” the Arkon said.

Light spread from the apex of the small pyramid, rising in a familiar, oval shape. It was a mirror, of a sort, but it had no back, no silvered front. Anyone seated at the table could see the images it produced. “Records: location.”

The image that everyone could clearly see was a familiar display of Elantran streets. It saw regular use in the Halls of Law. The Arkon then said a word that was not Elantran, but not—given the volume—draconian, either.

It caused all Barrani eyes in the room to widen.

“Personal Records: historical map, variant 22B. Overlay current map location.”

The lines of the current map faded until they could only barely be seen. Other lines, however, joined them. The Arkon snorted smoke. “Historical map variant 2A.” As the historical map faded and reappeared, the Arkon’s eyes narrowed. “Historical event map, by location. Significant nexus disturbances.”

This time, the map lit up areas that Kaylin recognized. One was a big, glowing blue blotch over what would otherwise be Elani Street. She started to pay attention then. She could guess what that event was; she’d witnessed it.

She hadn’t witnessed any of the others, but there were others. The map didn’t give event dates, just locations. Without thinking, she said, “Records, enlarge map.” Nothing, of course, happened.

Bellusdeo then repeated Kaylin’s command, and this time—naturally—the map grew. So did the oval that contained it. At the heart of the city, bounded by rivers and walls, lay the fiefs. No streets could be seen; there was a blur of glowing gray, gray and more gray, that grew darker as it reached the center of the fiefs themselves.