Cast in Sorrow. Michelle Sagara

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СКАЧАТЬ leveled—did you exit the Hallionne at the side of the Lord of the West March. You did not enter it by his side.”

      “No.”

      He paused again, falling silent as the Barrani often did when they were sifting through their perfect memories. “You spoke of the brothers of the Hallionne Bertolle.”

      She nodded.

      “They were, at one point, kin to the being that ascended. They were, in a loose sense, his family. They remained with the Hallionne, asleep in the heart of his domain. Did you likewise see Orbaranne’s kin?”

      She shook her head. “Orbaranne didn’t have brothers—not the way Bertolle once did.”

      “Did you speak with the Hallionne Orbaranne?”

      She hesitated. He marked it. But she finally said, “Yes. We waited together for the Lord of the West March. I think she knew he was coming; I certainly didn’t.”

      “Did anything about Orbaranne strike you as unusual?”

      “I’m not Barrani. I don’t generally enter the Hallionne, and as far as I can tell, the Barrani don’t really like them. But now that you ask, yes. Orbaranne seemed almost human, to me. I’ve been inside other buildings that have personalities and voices. Most of them can appear human, but they’re really not.” He led and she followed, thinking. “The transformed tried to destroy Orbaranne.”

      “Yes.”

      “Iberrienne kidnapped hundreds of humans in order to do so.” She hesitated again. “When they failed, she kept the humans within the Hallionne. She said they wouldn’t be able to remain for long—but they were her guests.”

      “And guests are the reason for the Hallionne’s existence.”

      Kaylin nodded, her frown deepening. “Is it possible that she was mortal, when she chose to become Hallionne?”

      “That is a question only the Ancients—or the Hallionne herself—could answer. Did you note anything else about Orbaranne?”

      Had she? Kaylin remembered the last glimpse she’d had of the Hallionne.

      Hallionne were buildings, like Tara was a building. They could hear what anyone within their walls was thinking—and their walls could be immense; the outer dimensions didn’t confine the interior at all. Within their realms they were like small, distinct gods; they could change the furniture under your butt if you thought it was uncomfortable. They could re-create—down to the smallest of details—an apartment you’d lived in for most of your adult life, even if you couldn’t remember them as clearly yourself.

      So it wasn’t a surprise that Orbaranne could re-create the festival gates of Elantra. It wasn’t a surprise that she could map out the streets and the buildings—in varying states of repair—that girded them. But she couldn’t create the people.

      And for a brief time, she didn’t have to. She had guests—she’d called them guests—in the form of over a hundred humans who had been taken, marked, and dramatically altered by Barrani. They couldn’t leave; Orbaranne knew that. But she couldn’t keep them, either. While they were willing to stay, she provided them the comforts of the best parts of home.

      Which was the duty of a Hallionne.

      But it wasn’t why. Kaylin knew. She’d seen the expression on Orbaranne’s Avatar. Orbaranne was happy. She had company.

      “I think—I think the Hallionne get lonely,” she finally said. She expected Barian to say something dismissive; if Teela were here, she certainly would have.

      But he said, with a pained half smile, “Yes. Even Alsanis. We would visit, as very small children. My earliest clear memories are of Alsanis. He was always bemused by infants, and there were so few. He expected us to be able to assume adult form instantly, and at will.”

      “Alsanis was like Bertolle?”

      “I do not know Bertolle. I have never spoken with him. But I believe you would find them similar. The hospitality of the Hallionne was not, of course, required by the denizens of the West March; we did not go to his halls for protection or escape. We paid our respects. We listened to his stories. Ah, no, not the regalia—but stories of a bygone age, in which nothing in the universe was solid or fixed.

      “Imagine a world in shape and form like the Hallionne: ever-changing, always responsive, always both ancient and new. The second duty of the Wardens, and the duty that is only rarely referenced, is that: we were his distant, lost kin. We kept him company. It is a small thing; to most of my kin, who see the Hallionne as fortresses in times of war, it is insignificant.

      “Children are lonely. Children crave affection and company. Yes, Lord Kaylin, even Barrani children. But it does not, and cannot, define them. They do not speak of it; it is a weakness. But if it is a weakness, it is one I believe the Hallionne share, and in just the same fashion. It does not define them, nor does it define their duties; it is a yearning.”

      He had led her to the entrance of the hall, and offered her an arm. “Lord Severn, will you wait or will you return to the halls of the Lord of the West March?”

      “I will accept your counsel in this,” Severn replied, which almost shocked Kaylin. The small dragon was seated, rather than supine, and he turned his tiny head and clucked at Severn. He didn’t appear to be angry.

      “I have offered you the hospitality, and therefore the protection, of my home. It is a protection that does not extend beyond my halls, but none of those who serve me will act against you, except at need.”

      “Lord Kaylin—”

      “Will go, with the dreams of Alsanis, to the Lady’s side. She may well go beyond, to a place where neither you, nor I, may follow. I leave the decision in your hands. But I offer this: I will protect her with my life. I play no games. I little care for the politics of the High Court in this single instance. While Lord Kaylin is within the West March, I will offer her the full protection of my line.”

      “No one will harm me while I’m in this dress,” Kaylin said.

      “You are almost entirely correct,” Lord Barian replied gravely.

      “It’s considered almost treason to hurt this dress.”

      “Ah, no. That is your interpretation, and it is not entirely correct. It is considered treason in the West March to act against either the harmoniste or the Teller. It is considered treason,” he continued, “to subject children to the regalia. I invite you to consider why.”

      “Because it was tried, and it was an unmitigated disaster.”

      “Indeed. We are a practical people, Lord Kaylin. I understand that you consider our manners complicated to an extreme, but there are reasons for the laws we hand down.”

      * * *

      Kaylin was exhausted, but she was good at working through exhaustion; if she hadn’t been, her work at the Guild of Midwives would have killed her. The thought of the midwives and their infrequent emergencies made her throat tighten. She’d had time to inform them that she’d be traveling outside of the city for at least six weeks. She’d also seen the look on Marya’s face as she received the news.

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