Cast in Honor (Chronicles of Elantra, #11)(69)

With Severn’s help, with the bridge of a True Name between them, she could see the two rooms that were both real. She wondered if this was what Mandoran and Annarion dealt with all the time. If they could—with one set of eyes—see both rooms. Kaylin usually couldn’t. She could see one or the other, with help.

She lifted her right hand, cupping the name; she turned. She turned in two bodies: her own and Severn’s. His arms were longer, and he was taller; the vantage through which he viewed the inert form on the slab was higher up. His reach was greater; she had to adjust it, to adjust her own leaden arm, to compensate for the stiffness of her native limbs and the way she wanted to fold them in around her chest to conserve body heat.

Her head hurt. Her eyes watered—or maybe those were Severn’s eyes; she was almost certain tears of her own would be frozen.

But she moved her hands—no, their hands—in unison. Severn steadied her because he was also there. She felt warmth that was not like heat as she brought the name to its future vessel. She didn’t place it, as she’d originally intended, in the center of the body’s chest. Instead, she carried it all the way to the third eye, the peak of the awkward triangle.

Light was reflected in what now looked like an obsidian orb. Light, shape, form. The name did not shrink; it did not change shape. The eye did. It grew. Kaylin held the name steady, but that took effort. She wasn’t the only one who noticed; she could hear Tain’s sharp intake of breath.

The eye expanded, darkness widening until it occupied most of the form’s forehead. The other two eyes remained closed, and the body remained motionless. Kaylin should have found it disturbing, but didn’t have the mental energy for it. Or for anything other than what she was doing: holding herself, and the single word, steady.

She had thought what occupied the third eye socket was obsidian. As it expanded, she realized she’d been wrong. It was, or seemed to be, a very viscous liquid, like an oil. She turned her right hand over and let the name go.

It fell slowly. Had the black liquid sprouted tendrils to grab it and drag it down, Kaylin would have found it less disturbing somehow. She watched as golden curves made contact with what had taken the form of an eye, and watched them sink. It seemed to go on forever.

Forever, she didn’t have.

She lowered Severn’s arm and set both of his hands against the lip of the exposed slab, as if by so doing she could shore up her own weight. But if they shared a vision, they didn’t actually occupy the same body; her own knees buckled.

It didn’t matter. Standing was no longer required. The darkness that absorbed the name she had carried from the West March expanded as she watched.

It took everything with it.





Chapter 15

“Kaylin.”

The voice came from a distance. Kaylin had the futile hope that it would stay there.

“Kaylin. Kaylin. I know you’re awake.” Mandoran’s voice grew louder. “Teela’s pissed off. It’d be a huge help if you opened your eyes.”

“Is she pissed off at me?” Kaylin asked. As an experiment, she tried opening her eyes. They were sticky, and the light in the room was too damn bright.

“I think she’s pissed off at Gilbert. And if it’s any incentive, Bellusdeo’s eyes are almost bloodred.”

Kaylin sat up. This was not the smartest idea, but someone caught her before she regretted it too badly. Mandoran. The light in the room—which she forced herself to endure—was sunlight. She blinked, lifted her hands and rubbed her eyes. “Where am I?”

“In Gilbert’s house. Upstairs.”

“And there are no beds upstairs?”

“Not in this room, no. Severn suggested a different room, but Gilbert didn’t think that was a good idea. Did I mention that Bellusdeo’s eyes are red?”

“Yes.” Kaylin had been lying across a very ugly rug. It was a shade of green that would probably make anyone feel nauseous, and if that didn’t, it was fringed in bright orange. Orange. She looked at her hands. They were hers. They were no longer Severn’s.

Severn.

She tried to push herself off the ground and failed a second time. “I’m here,” Severn said, his voice coming from somewhere behind her.

“Are you okay?”

“He’s standing, and Teela’s not worried about him,” Mandoran replied.

“He’s also capable of speaking for himself.”

“When he can get a word in edgewise.” It was true that Severn wasn’t very chatty on most days. “Teela’s worry is like a big wall of silence.” He paused, lifting his head. “She’s coming over.”

When Teela failed to materialize, Kaylin frowned.

“Oh, she’s not here,” Mandoran said.

“She left?”

“You’ve been out for two days.”

“Two days?”

“The Dragon’s eyes didn’t start out red.”

“Two days. Why didn’t you wake me? Marcus is going to tear my throat out!” Or worse, fire her.

“You can field this one,” Mandoran said, over Kaylin’s head.

“We attempted it,” Severn said.

Kaylin digested that statement and assessed her physical condition. Her arms, when she lifted them, trembled. Her legs ached. Her mouth felt as if she’d spent the previous night drinking with Teela and Tain. And her stomach, not to be outdone, growled.