Teela's eyes had narrowed. She dropped Kaylin's hand. "If you asked for the judgment of the green, and you are not still trapped in its maze, how exactly did you end up here? You didn't come from the heart of the green; there's no way Lord Lirienne would have allowed you to run back into the halls. Kitling, look at me."
Long years of habit came to her rescue; she met Teela's extremely dark eyes. "I asked the green if it could send me to where you were."
Teela's eyes rounded in outrage. "I swear, when we get you back to Elantra, I will go straight to the Emperor himself and demand that you never leave the city again."
"Teela-no one knew where you were."
"So?"
"Severn was with Nightshade. Whatever attacked them took Evarrim down-I don't know if he survived or not. Lirienne was with Barian, everyone was frantic for the Consort-and no one knew where you were."
"So you came back into the heart of the fighting?"
"I didn't know where you were, Teela. And frankly, I was helpful. I know how you fight. I know how to stay out of your way, and I know when to cut in. I didn't get in your way-I'm not a kid anymore."
Teela, however, was frowning. "Did Gaedin teach you the greetings and the obeisances? Did he teach you the blessings?"
"No."
"Then how, exactly, did you ask the heart of the green to send you anywhere?"
"Because the green can speak."
Teela stilled. Kaylin had thought her motionless before; now, even breath appeared to have deserted her. "The green spoke to you."
"Yes. Like the water usually does."
"Did you find this new mark before the green spoke to you?"
"No, it was after."
Teela closed her eyes for one long moment. When she opened them, she glanced at Iberrienne. "We will find the Consort," she said, sounding-for Teela-defeated. "And then, dress or no dress, I am packing you up and sending you straight home."
"You can't-I'm the harmoniste."
"Do you want to bet?"
She really, really didn't. She rose, and when Iberrienne failed to follow suit, gently took his arm and pulled him to his feet. He frowned and shook his arm free, which caused the tablecloth to slip.
Kaylin had a strong desire to go back into one of the guest rooms-any room-and find clothing. Even a dress was better than this. Sadly, Teela headed straight out, walking briskly but not so fast that she left Kaylin and Iberrienne behind.
* * *
The Barrani were gathered like a war band. They were armed that way, too. The subtle-and not so subtle-politics of the first dinner had evaporated. They were angry, no surprise there.
Lirienne was enraged. None of it showed, except in the color of his eyes, and even then, it was dark enough that someone might mistake in their color. That someone was not, unfortunately, Kaylin Neya. She could feel his fury like a blow. It wasn't that she was attempting to touch it; it radiated out with such force it made a week of Ynpharion look like child's play.
She was almost afraid to approach him.
"Lord Kaylin." He knew, of course. "Lord An'Teela." His eyes widened slightly as he saw who trailed after them. "You have the Outcaste."
"We do. I thought he might be able to tell us where the Consort is."
Kaylin knew Lirienne could utter a single word, and what was left of Iberrienne would die here. She was no longer certain that would be a bad thing. She held his name, yes-but it felt incredibly fragile, a blown glass object meant to contain small, still things that wouldn't break it. There were fleeting images that she could almost touch, but they never coalesced into the solidity of voice or emotion that she could feel from Lirienne or Nightshade.
Hells, she wasn't even trying to contact Lirienne and he was almost overwhelming.
"An'Teela, what did you do to subdue him?" the Lord of the West March asked. He came to stand in front of Iberrienne. Iberrienne pulled the edges of the tablecloth more tightly around his shoulders before he met the Lord of the West March's gaze. His eyes widened. "Lirienne."
If the sight of a Lord of the Court dressed in nothing but a tablecloth hadn't already commanded the attention of all Barrani present, the tone of Iberrienne's voice did. He didn't use the unadorned name to signal public lack of respect, or to imply an inferiority of power or position on the Lord of the West March's part. His voice was neither neutral nor chilly.
It was said, Kaylin thought, with shy delight. She had never heard a Barrani speak this way, and she'd been forced for any number of reasons to listen to a lot of Barrani.
To her surprise-and relief-Severn appeared, stepping around the Barrani who were content to let him pass. "Lord Iberrienne was injured in the outlands; it is possible that he had not fully recovered."
"He was not so badly injured that he could not field a sizeable force with which to attack the hall." The Lord of the March paused.
An'Teela did not subdue him. It wasn't a question.
No.
What did you do?
She swallowed. I could see his name.
Silence.
I used it.
He fought you, then.
She exhaled. Yes and no. I think-in the end-he wanted me to grab it. I have some experience with people who don't.
Ah. You do not refer to me?
No. You don't care.
She felt his brief amusement. That is entirely incorrect. I care. But not so much that I wished to die.
You're not afraid of me.
No. What you could do is theoretical. You have my name-but your hold over it has never been tested. Nor will it be, while you live. Teela does not wish your intervention to be known-and that is wise. No one of my people will assume that Iberrienne was brought low by you.
Gee, thanks.
Do you wish it known, kyuthe?
Did she? She glanced at the assembled Barrani, Lords of the High Court, Lords of the lesser court of the West March. No. She hesitated.
Of course he knew. You are concerned.
Why did-why is he-looking at you like that?
Silence. He didn't want to answer. And she didn't want to demand what he wouldn't willingly give, although in theory she could.
"Lirienne," Iberrienne said, when the Lord of the West March failed to answer. "Where is Eddorian? Is he not here?"
The Lord of the West March closed his eyes. And so, Kaylin saw, did Teela.
* * *
She was surprised when Nightshade also walked through the grim and silent crowd. The name, Eddorian, had dropped like a very large anvil into a very still pond. The Lord of the West March glanced at him, and Teela glared. Neither, however, spoke to stop him, and because they didn't, the Barrani Lords let him pass.
Iberrienne smiled. It looked so wrong on a Barrani face, Kaylin found it inexplicably painful to watch; it was far more personal than his unplanned nudity had been. "Calarnenne!"
"Iberrienne," Nightshade replied, smiling in turn. His smile was different, but to Kaylin, no less jarring. It walked the edge between pity and compassion-neither of which she had ever associated with the fieflord. He held out both of his hands, and Iberrienne placed his over them.
"Where is Eddorian?"
"He is not yet here."
Iberrienne's eyes rounded. "If he is absent, it will ruin us. My Lord was so proud that he had been chosen." He rose. "But-why are we here? It is not the hour of the green. Calarnenne-why are you wearing the Teller's crown? Where is Annarion?"
"Annarion is preparing for his first recitation, as Eddorian must be."
Kaylin looked at Teela as Iberrienne spoke. Her eyes were a shade that Kaylin couldn't remember seeing before-not blue, not precisely, although there was a lot of blue in it. She thought it amethyst, a deep purple.
Do not ask her, Lirienne said.
I've never seen that color before-I mean, not in Barrani eyes. What does it mean?
Grief, Kaylin. A deep, abiding, encompassing grief. It is not a color that you are taught, because it is seen so very, very seldom. Grief generally makes my kin angry-and the color of our anger reveals nothing that we do not wish to be seen. An'Teela...
Eddorian was one of the children, the lost children, wasn't he?
You already know the answer to that question. I will not insult your perception.
"I am the Teller," Nightshade told Iberrienne. "But come, you are not properly clothed, and when we gather for the recitation, you will be far more of an embarrassment to your father than a late Eddorian."
Iberrienne looked down at his tablecloth; as he had both hands in Nightshade's, it had slipped from his shoulders. "I don't-I don't understand. Why am I wearing nothing?"
"That is no doubt a story for a long, slow evening; it will keep boredom at bay. Come, Iberrienne." He looked to Barian. Of course he did.
Lord Barian, however, looked to-of all people-Kaylin. As if he knew, or as if he suspected. "He is as you see him," she replied, as softly as she could.
"Will you grant us the hospitality of the West March, Warden?" Nightshade asked. It sounded very formal.
The Warden, Lord Barian, nodded.
To Kaylin, Nightshade said, Find the Consort, Kaylin. Find her and summon me if necessary.
What will you do with Iberrienne?
I will see him clothed.
Why is he-why is he like this?
Nightshade didn't answer. Instead, with ineffable gentleness, he led Iberrienne away.
* * *
Silence reigned in the large clearing.
It was Kaylin who broke it. "Did the eagles remain with the Consort?"
Her question caused a ripple to pass through the Barrani; whatever disturbance Iberrienne had caused-and he had, there was no doubting it-passed.