Cast In Flight. Michelle Sagara

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СКАЧАТЬ she said, “I’m like the corporal in one regard. I prefer well-meaning. And, Kaylin? The Aerians have taken you under wing—and that phrase has a different meaning for my people. They’ve been kind to you. They’ve offered you acceptance, understanding and tolerance. You have no reason to resent them.”

      “I can’t resent them on your behalf?”

      “I don’t resent them,” Moran replied. “And I don’t expect them to be perfect. You’re already upset at them, and they’ve done nothing wrong.”

      “Shouldn’t they have to do something right?”

      “Not according to Imperial Law, no.” When Kaylin failed to reply, she continued, “I don’t know what your life in the fiefs was like. I’ve never asked. You don’t know what my life in the Aerie was like. You’ve never asked. You assumed it was like the rest of the Aerian lives. The truth is harder, of course—but I often think we all have harsh, hidden truths. I would never have starved. I was not moved to theft or thuggery simply to keep myself fed or warm.

      “I did whatever the Caste Court told me to do. I obeyed them. I tried—for years, I tried—to be what they wanted. There was only one thing left in my life that I loved, and I knew what would happen to it if I rebelled. And if I endured every insult, every beating, every ugly half-truth, in order to preserve the things I loved, how can I judge the rest of the Aerians for doing the same damn thing?

      “How can I tell them what they should be doing instead? How can I tell them to put their lives outside the Halls at risk when I didn’t have the courage to do that myself?”

      Kaylin was silent.

      “You understand?”

      And she did. It was why she still had trouble dealing harshly with beggars and street thieves. She’d been there, she’d done that, she’d been desperate. Were they breaking the law? Yes. On this side of the bridge they were.

      She bowed her head a moment, found her voice and lifted it again. “Can we go back to the praevolo, or would you rather we not talk about it at all?”

      “Let’s compromise. Once we leave the dinner table, you never ask me about it again.”

      “Deal.”

      Moran then turned to Lord Nightshade. “I don’t know how you came by your information, but I’d like to hear what your informant had to say. I consider my own sources to be highly dubious at this point.”

      * * *

      “Some centuries ago, I met an Aerian,” Nightshade began. “He was dar Carafel, a young man with magnificent wings and a strong dislike for politics. He had had some conflict with his flight, and when that conflict became dangerous, he fled. It was not possible to hide his wings—he was not a mage. Nor had he lived a life in which anonymity was essential. His father was a man of considerable power and considerable expectations.

      “A child had recently been born to the flight, and that child possessed pale, flecked wings.”

      Moran was silent.

      “It was, of course, a cause for celebration—but not for the young man. Not for his father. The balance of power had shifted with that single birth. The newborn infant’s father gained instant respect and instant political support. The child was an infant, but the wings were significant, as I’m certain you are aware. The father of the Aerian with whom I spoke grew increasingly bitter as the praevolo aged. He grew to resent his son for the lack of those wings. I offered the Aerian shelter, and he chose, in the end, to remain within my castle.” He glanced at Kaylin.

      Kaylin said, “The statuary.”

      “Yes. What I know of the Illumen praevolo, I know from him. It is perhaps textured with his envy and his yearning; to him, the praevolo was both exalted and chosen. That child would have a life of luxury, a life of respect, a life of power.”

      Moran’s face was about as expressive as stone, which, in a way, was expressive enough.

      “The praevolo is born when there is a threat to the flights.”

      “Was there one?” Moran asked.

      “I do not know. If there was, it was never large enough to be made public.”

      “What was his name?”

      There was a long pause. “Karis.”

      Moran’s eyes widened slightly.

      “We spoke of the praevolo, and the significance of the praevolo. It was not theoretical, to him. He did not, however, understand all of the specifics. There were items that were associated with the praevolo; they had the weight of the Emperor’s crown, to the Aerians.”

      Moran nodded slowly.

      “You do not possess them?”

      “I was a child. I was an illegitimate child. Nothing of the praevolo’s was given to me.” She hesitated.

      He marked it.

      “Nothing of significance.”

      He nodded, then. “Your legitimacy has been questioned.”

      “Yes. Constantly.”

      “And you were not given the opportunity to prove your legitimacy.”

      “Oh, I was,” was her bitter reply. “But never, ever publicly. The Caste Court did not know of my existence until I was almost seven. They were deeply suspicious of me, of my mother, when I finally came to their attention, and they tested me. Thoroughly.” She looked down at her hands. “I wish I had had a chance to speak with your Aerian. I would have told him what life as praevolo was actually like.”

      Nightshade’s smile was slender, but genuine. “He grew less unhappy with the passage of time.” He rose; he hadn’t eaten much. He bowed to the table, and to his brother. “It is late, and I am expected at the castle. It was an honor to meet you.”

       Chapter 6

      Breakfast, the meal that Kaylin was never allowed to skip, was waiting. Moran had already come down from her room, and was speaking quietly to Annarion, of all people, when Kaylin entered the dining room.

      “Where’s Mandoran?”

      “He should be here shortly.” It was Helen’s disembodied voice that answered. “There was a minor accident in the training room this morning; I have been making adjustments.”

      “Did it hurt him or you?”

      “We are both quite fine,” Helen replied, which wasn’t much of an answer. But Kaylin had come to recognize that tone of voice. It was the only answer she was going to get.

      Kaylin started to sit, but Helen interrupted her.

      “Teela’s coming to the door. Tain is with her. Shall I let them in?”

      “Yes, please.”

      Helen СКАЧАТЬ