Cast in Sorrow. Michelle Sagara

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СКАЧАТЬ wake?”

      The eagle said, “Take me with you, Chosen. Take me to her.”

      “That’s not an answer.”

      “The Barrani do not sleep.”

      “Yes, but she’s sleeping now.”

      “Take me with you,” the eagle said again. To the small dragon, he spoke unintelligibly; the small dragon squawked. “Barian, it would be best if you accompany the Chosen.”

      “I have offered her the hospitality of the Warden’s perch,” he replied.

      “Can I just say one thing? I’m not Barrani, and mortals do need sleep.”

      “The marks you bear should protect you,” the eagle replied.

      Kaylin looked down the long spiraling stairs. Sleep wasn’t in the cards. She released the eagle’s leg.

      * * *

      “My apologies, Lord Kaylin,” Lord Barian said. His eyes were the more familiar shade of blue, at least where Barrani were concerned. “I did not intend this.”

      She said nothing for about twenty steps. “Lord Lirienne said that the Wardens of the West March die prematurely because of the burden of the nightmares. Is he wrong?”

      “He is not.” Barian’s words were stiff.

      “Five nightmares came out of the trees on the edge of the West March. Is that normal? Is that what usually happens?”

      “No, Lord Kaylin.”

      “Call me Kaylin, or just skip the name. I don’t particularly care for the title ‘Lord.’”

      Silence. It was broken by Lord Barian, and only after another twenty steps had gone by. “It is a title you earned.”

      “Yes, but it’s only important to Barrani, and none of the Barrani Hawks use it. It doesn’t change my job description. It doesn’t change my duties. And it sounds pretentious.”

      He laughed. She actually liked the sound of his laughter. At any other time, she might have joined him.

      “If five such nightmares are unusual, and they arrived at the exact same time as the Consort, did it not occur to you to intervene or give her warning?”

      “You must have known,” he replied. “You intervened.”

      “Yes—but you might have done the same. You’re the Warden. I’m a Private in service to the Imperial Hawks.”

      “And yet you did intervene. Why?”

      “Because she’s the Consort and whatever the black birds were they were clearly causing a lot of pain!” She struggled to hold on to her temper, but every step of descent increased her anxiety. Anxiety was a product of fear, and Kaylin had never handled fear well.

      “And it was your responsibility as Lord of the Court to come to her aid.”

      “No!” She exhaled. “Yes.” She slowed and tried to walk in a more measured, less stomping, way. “Tell me how the nightmares affect you.”

      “Do you generally speak about your mortal nightmares?”

      “Only if I’m feeling spiteful and want to bore the guys in the office.”

      “Lord Severn?”

      “She means it literally. She does speak from time to time of her nightmares; it is not uncommon in mortal cultures.” Severn spoke in High Barrani. “If the Consort fails to wake—and Kaylin is beginning to realize that this is now likely—it is Lord Kaylin who will attempt to wake her.”

      “How?”

      “How did Lord Kaylin touch the dreams of the Hallionne?” he replied, his voice the essence of the calm Kaylin lacked. “She does not ask for the information to imply any weakness upon the part of the Wardens; no more does the Consort accept the burden of those nightmares as criticism. But Lord Kaylin is awake; the Consort is not.

      “The Lady was forced by circumstance to fully wake Bertolle; she was forced, only a few days later, to wake Kariastos. Were it not for the Consort, it is my belief—my mortal belief—that the Hallionne Orbaranne would now be lost. The Consort’s ability to speak to the green has been tested without pause since she left the High Halls. It is possible that the absorption of these nightmares, without the prior wakenings, would not have unduly taxed her; we will never know.

      “What we now know is that she sleeps. What Lord Kaylin asks, she asks because any information might provide prior warning.”

      “Prior warning?”

      “Lord Kaylin is a healer,” Severn said.

      Chapter 7

      In general, Barrani were more likely to be impressed if Kaylin was introduced as a rabid, three-headed dog. Kaylin stumbled, and righted herself on the side of the tree. She glanced at Barian, whose eyes were predictably darker in shade.

      “Barrani do not require sleep,” he said. “In that, you are correct. Frequently, when in the sleeping Hallionne, my kin will do so; it passes time. Sleep is therefore not a foreign concept. We are not often visited by either dream or nightmare in the mortal sense; I believe, in cases where sanity is not in question, sleep is required for mortals to experience either state.”

      “You have nightmares when you’re awake?”

      “In a fashion. We do not seek the nightmares of the Hallionne for the simple experience—although there are those among my kin who might for the novelty of it. The Wardens absorb the nightmares of the Hallionne in part because they are, and have been for centuries, our only contact with Alsanis.”

      Kaylin concentrated on the descent, her hand hugging bark, her forehead growing permanent furrows. “Why are the Wardens the keepers of the Hallionne?”

      “If you mean to ask why the other Hallionne have no visible keepers, I commend you on your observation. The answer is twofold. I will give you the common and accepted variant. The Warden tends the green. The heart of the West March is the heart of the green; it is where the ancient stories are remade and renewed. Ancients once lived in the West March; the forests and the environs were their creation.

      “It is said that the Ancients who created our race chose to dwell here.” He fell silent until the descent ended, once again, with solid floor. Kaylin, by dint of lessons with Diarmat, had learned to wait; she didn’t press him for the second explanation.

      “The Lord of the West March has said little about the battle surrounding the Hallionne Orbaranne. What I know is this: many of the men and women who set out into the forest at Orbaranne’s urgent request were lost. Those who returned spoke of the transformed, and a forest infested with the particular danger they posed.

      “They thought the unthinkable, when they arrived within range of Orbaranne: that the Hallionne had fallen.”

      Kaylin said nothing. She knew, better than anyone, СКАЧАТЬ