Cast in Silence. Michelle Sagara

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      “Liatt is Liatt,” he replied softly. “Just as I am Night-shade.”

      Tiamaris cleared his throat. Dragons had a way of clearing the throat that made earthquakes seem mild; it wasn’t a roar, but it implied that a roar might follow severe inattentiveness. What followed a roar was generally considered death, even by the optimistic.

      On the other hand, the Barrani and the Dragons had had centuries—at the very least—in which to thumb their figurative noses at each other’s subtle threats. Nightshade turned.

      “Are you implying that the fieflord of Barren does not hold the fief?” the Dragon asked.

      “He rules it,” was the quiet reply. “But it has long been my suspicion that he is merely clever, canny, and adept.”

      “Merely?”

      “He understands how to hold the territory he has claimed as his own. But it is a claim with no substance.” He turned to Kaylin, lifted a hand, and trailed the tips of his fingers down her cheek. The mark glowed faintly as he touched it. “I knew Liatt,” he told her softly, “because the fief knew Liatt. Barren’s name had no such resonance.” He let his hand fall away. “But my experience with the fief of either Liatt or Barren is small. Yours, however, might be more germane.”

      Words deserted her for a moment. She glanced at Tiamaris; she couldn’t help it. If he was surprised by Nightshade’s words, the surprise didn’t show. She wondered if he was, or if he knew. He was part of the Dragon Court.

      The mirrors rescued her; Nightshade gestured, and the view zoomed in, losing the boundaries of Liatt and Elantra.

      “Lord Tiamaris understands,” Nightshade said softly.

      Kaylin, frustrated, tried not to grind her teeth. Tiamaris had a head start of possibly a few centuries of experience and knowledge—but she resented being the person who had no clue.

      Then learn, Nightshade told her.

      “Hold that image,” Tiamaris said, above the quiet, private words.

      The image froze.

      “Kaylin, did Barren have more of a problem with ferals than Nightshade? Do you recall?”

      She hesitated for a moment, and then nodded. “The fief had more of a problem with both ferals and the occasional other creature. It was why most of Barren’s men were stationed near the border. The interior border,” she added.

      “You saw this?”

      “No. I was told. I didn’t visit the fieflord at night. None of us did.” She drew a sharp, cutting breath. “I was thirteen, Tiamaris. It was for six months. I wasn’t—in any way—capable of becoming one of his lieutenants. Not then. What I have is rumor, and a bit of experience. It’s not a lot to judge a fief by.”

      “But the ferals, at least?”

      She nodded, thoughtful now. “Have you met the other fieflords?” she asked Nightshade.

      “No. I have met only those whose borders touch mine. There is some blurring, although it is not extreme.” His smile was cool. “Why?”

      “You said Liatt ruled from the Tower. The Tower?”

      He nodded. “As I rule from the Castle.”

      Tiamaris failed to hear the exchange. He had walked up to the mirror, and he now examined the image in some detail. “How long?” he asked Nightshade.

      Nightshade did not pretend to misunderstand him. “The current fieflord of Barren has ruled for ten years. Perhaps nine. They are mortal years, in the reckoning of Elantra.”

      “How?”

      “I am not privy to even rumor. But the former fieflord—Illien—was not human. The fief lost its name along the border. I do not hear it.”

      “But you hear Liatt?” Kaylin asked.

      “When I touch the boundaries of my realm, I hear Liatt.”

      “Would I?”

      “You, perhaps. Lord Tiamaris would not.”

      She didn’t ask him why, but she touched the mark upon her cheek almost reflexively.

      “Was Illien alive?”

      Nightshade said nothing.

      “Ten years,” Tiamaris said softly. “I would have said that was impossible. Ten years of rule without—” He shook his head, drawing the words back before they were spoken. Kaylin successfully fought the urge to slap him. “The borders here—can you magnify them? They are not clear.”

      “No, Lord Tiamaris, they are not. As I said—and as I imagine you suspect—the boundaries between fiefs are somewhat unstable. What the mirrors show you now is what I see. Do you understand?”

      The Dragon Lord offered the fieflord a very graceful nod. “You honor us.”

      “It is expedient for me to do so at this time. It is also,” Nightshade added, “no risk to me. What I see, you cannot see without my aid, and could you, you could do nothing with it while I lived.” His smile was slight and cool.

      “But here—”

      “Yes. I see more and less clearly than I would otherwise see if Barren was stable. But what you see along the blurred edge is accurate. The shadows of the interior have changed shape over even the past decade. They have been on the move—slowly—into the fief of Barren.”

      Kaylin frowned.

      “You’ve had word from the fieflord of Barren, have you not?” Nightshade asked her softly.

      She glanced at Tiamaris, who didn’t seem to be surprised, and gave up. “Yes. But I didn’t understand why. And I still don’t understand why now.” The words sank into the silence that followed them. “It’s gotten worse,” she said, voice flat. “Recently.”

      Lord Nightshade said, “It has, as you guess, recently become much more unstable.”

      “Do you know why?”

      “No. The interior is completely invisible to both my magic and my information network.”

      “Do you think it has something to do with the Outcaste Dragon?”

      “He was injured, when he retreated from our previous encounter,” Nightshade replied, his voice completely neutral. “The injuries he sustained were not insignificant, and unless he were capable of healing them quickly—” his tone made clear that he thought it highly unlikely “—it is doubtful, to me.”

      She slid her hands to her hips, and then let them fall back to her sides. “Nightshade, please—”

      “When the tainted Leontines ran into the heart of the fiefs,” he told her softly, “it is just possible that their need and their voices woke something that should not have СКАЧАТЬ