Cast in courtlight, p.16
Cast in Courtlight, page 16
"Rich people can't even dress themselves?"
"It's not—for reasons you've discovered on your own—considered wise. Not if you don't have hours and aren't possessed of double-jointed elbows. Not to mention another dress, when you destroy the one you can't get into or out of on your own."
"I bet the men don't have this much problem."
Teela laughed. "They have different problems. But yes, among the High Court, they also have servants who see to these things."
"You have a servant?"
"Yes."
"Here?"
Teela's smile was all Hawk. "Here, I make do with Tain." Her smile was also all cat.
"It's good to know he can be useful for something." The dress was now on, and properly oriented. It didn't weigh as much as armor, but it was a damn sight less convenient. "These skirts are going to get covered in—"
"Lift them. That's what the loops are for."
"You've got to be joking."
Teela frowned.
"Right. Loops. These?"
"Those. And this," the Barrani added, lifting and retrieving the giant handkerchief, "is worn around your shoulders."
"My shoulders aren't bare."
"No. Be careful, Kaylin. Those sleeves cost a fortune."
"I can see that. It's all the gold. Why the Hells do the sleeves have to hang to the floor?"
Teela paused, and a look of pure horror stole up her face. "What are you wearing on your feet?"
"Boots."
"Those boots? Not if the Hells were threatening to open up and swallow you whole!" Teela turned and slammed the door. Which, given it opened in, was a feat. "Corporal," she snapped at Severn, "go back to the Quartermaster and tell him to give you the shoes. Now!"
"It's not like you can see the damn boots anyway," Kaylin said. "The skirts are so damn long you can't—"
"Yes, you can. If you can't see them, someone else will. Or they'll hear them. Those are for walking the beat."
"What are you wearing?"
"Shoes."
"Why?"
"Never mind, Kaylin. Just—try to look Courtly. And stand still. I'm not finished with the last of the buttons."
Kaylin wanted a word—or hundred—with the seamstresses. But she also wanted a mirror. When Lord Nightshade had given her a dress, it had at least been wearable. Not in any way practical, and there was admittedly a lot less of it—but it was nowhere near as nightmarish as this one.
Nowhere near as ornate.
She tried to spin, lifting her arms awkwardly.
The door opened, and shoes appeared on the end of one of Severn's hands. "Tell Kaylin she owes me."
"I'm sure she's aware of it. She saw the Quartermaster herself."
"Not the second time."
Teela came in, and in a voice that was pure Sergeant, she told Kaylin how to stand, when to lift a foot, and how to walk. The shoes were… shoes. They weren't exactly hard to walk in, but they felt like little ledges beneath the soles of her feet, and she didn't much like it.
"I couldn't run half a mile in these," she muttered, looking at her ankles.
"If you have to run at all," Teela replied with a sweetness that could have dissolved teeth for miles, "you're already dead." The Barrani Hawk took a step back. "Your hair," she said with a grimace.
"What's wrong with my hair?"
"If I went into detail, we'd be here for two hours. Take the stick out."
"But it'll just get in the way—"
"Kaylin. The stick."
Kaylin pulled. Her hair fell down her shoulders. It was frayed at the ends in places, and it certainly wasn't sleek or straight. Which, given Teela's pained expression, was obvious.
"I don't suppose you own a brush?"
"There's probably one in the stables. Joking! Just joking."
"You don't."
"Well, not really. They're bulky. And I usually just wear my hair—"
"As if it were a bad hat. Yes. We'd noticed."
"You own a brush?"
Teela snorted. No, of course not. That would imply imperfection. "You'll have to do." She took a critical step back.
Kaylin was familiar with the look—but she wasn't used to seeing it outside of a drill circle or an exam hall. She kicked an empty bucket, and really hurt her toes.
"Come on," Teela said. "There's a carriage waiting."
"You're driving, I'm walking," Kaylin replied.
They entered the hall.
Severn was lounging against the opposite wall, and when he saw Kaylin, he kind of got stuck there. His eyes rounded, but nothing else changed; he just didn't move. Or breathe much for a minute.
"Do I look like an idiot?" she asked self-consciously.
"You look very… different."
"Different good?"
He shrugged. "Different. Like a noble."
"If I swear a lot, will that help?"
"You've never spent much time around real nobles, have you?"
"They don't let me."
"I can't imagine why."
She kicked him. That hurt her toes as well; he was wearing shin splints beneath his pants.
But when she'd stopped hopping, he offered her an arm. She stared at it.
"Take it," Teela said curtly. "Or you'll trip and fall flat on your face, which we don't need. Showing up at Court with a bleeding lip is likely to make you popular in ways you don't even want to think about."
Kaylin took the arm, and Severn paused to adjust her fingers. "Don't grip," he told her with an odd smile. "It'll make you look like an invalid or a child."
"Then what good is it?"
"It's for show," he told her. "It's all for show."
She hesitated.
Teela's brows were shifting in an awkward way. "What now?"
"My daggers."
"Put them in—oh, never mind. Humans always make clothing as impractical as possible."
"Meaning?"
"You don't take them."
Chapter Ten
Teela on the inside of a carriage was a good deal better than Teela on the outside, although Kaylin noticed that the Barrani Hawk had stopped to whisper something to the horses. Not, of course, the driver; that was beneath her. Kaylin never quite understood the Barrani when it came to animals.
Then again, if she were honest, she never completely understood them when it came to anything else, either.
Andellen and Samaran chose to sit on the back bench on the outside of the carriage, far enough away from the driver not to cause alarm. Kaylin could see them through the windows; they were stiff and watchful. If they spoke at all, they didn't look at each other to do it.
She turned to Teela.
"Are you going to be in trouble?"
Teela raised a dark brow. "We're going to the High Halls, how could I not?"
"I meant for the Lethe."
The pale, perfect features grew paler, which was never a good thing. In well-enunciated Elantran, Teela said, "I don't give a rat's ass."
Which made her Kaylin's kind of Barrani.
She cleared her throat; even in a carriage, dust came up through the windows. "Did you hear about any difficulty at the Arcanum?"
"No."
"There was a fire—"
"I said no, Kaylin."
"Right. That kind of no. You didn't want me at Court, did you?"
"Good guess."
"And the Hawklord did?"
"Bad guess."
"But I'm going, aren't I?"
"He didn't want you there. He wanted to annoy the Emperor less. Just slightly less, if that's a consolation."
"The Emperor wants me at Court?"
Teela looked at Severn, who shrugged in a "not my problem" way. She stepped on his foot. Which, curse the thin and spindly shoes, had no effect whatsoever.
"Kaylin, the Emperor is in no way involved."
"Politics?"
"Got it."
Politics were outside of Kaylin's natural realm because so much that was political involved the capacity to lie with a straight face.
Severn said, "You'll learn."
"I'm not sure I want to."
"When has that ever mattered to either of us?" Hints of life on the wrong side of the river. But she nodded. "It's not that different from gangs," he added, staring out of the carriage window. "The person in charge is always looking over his shoulder and waiting to see who wields the knife that'll mark a change in leadership. If he's smart and canny, there won't be anyone, if he's too soft or too brutal, there will be. It's a game."
She understood that game.
"It's the same game," Severn added. "But with more money and a lot more history and education."
"Don't forget to mention subtlety," Teela added, looking vaguely bored.
"Severn, did you pass everything?"
He raised a brow. "I was a Wolf," he said with a shrug. "We have different duties."
"You hunt."
"At the Emperor's command, yes. But Kaylin, sometimes what we're hunting isn't running. Usually because they don't have to." It was more than he'd ever said about the Wolves.
"No," he added before she could ask—and damn him, she was thinking about it—"You wouldn't make a good Wolf. The Hawks are different. Remember what we used to say?"
"There are two laws."
He nodded. "One for the powerful, and one for everyone else." He shrugged. "There will always be two laws." But the way he said it turned everything on its head. "You serve the latter. It's better work."
"It's slower," Teela said, looking out the window. "But it has very little relevance where we're going." She looked at Kaylin's face, and her eyes narrowed when they fell on the mark of Nightshade. They almost always did.
The carriage continued in silence for some time—if by silence one meant the bumping and squeaking of wheels pulled by a set of thundering hooves.
"Remember that you are here as kyuthe to the Lord of the West March, that your actions will reflect on his choice."
"And his actions?"
"He is the Lord, you are merely mortal."
The carriage rolled to a halt. "Will I be staying?"
Teela smiled. It was not a kind smile. "You will," she said quietly. "But your clothing may need some work."
"Work?"
"Never mind. You'll see." She looked pointedly at Severn, who rose and opened the carriage door. He offered his hand to Teela, and she accepted it gracefully. Kaylin accepted in her turn far less gracefully, because she was staring at Teela's back.
"Teela?"
"Yes?"
"What exactly does one do in the High Court?"
"If you're very, very lucky? Nothing." She paused. "The High Halls were created to be an open space in the confines of a smelly, dark city. They are, even by our standards, graced with beauty. You, however, are graced with lack of education. I am not certain how much you are capable of appreciating."
"Thanks," Kaylin said sourly.
She stood by the carriage, Severn's hand in hers.
"How bad can it be?" she asked of no one in particular. The fact that she was about to find out was no comfort.
The fact that she was about to find out flanked by Barrani who served an outcaste was even less of one. Andellen allowed Severn to escort her, but it was clear from the shade of his eyes that he barely tolerated the intrusion. Samaran, however, was more sanguine. Or perhaps he was simply more aware of where they stood: the High Halls.
She wondered, then, if he had lived here before he had chosen to follow Lord Nightshade into exile.
But Tain hadn't, and perhaps he was like Tain. She could hope.
The High Halls, when seen in a state of emergency that didn't involve imminent death—well, not someone else's at any rate—were impressive. Kaylin entered them on Severn's arm. She tried to mimic Teela's graceful, stately walk, and gave up after about five steps; she didn't have the carriage or bearing, and trying to develop it without a few years of training probably made her look even more out of place.
The statues that had impressed at a run were more impressive at a walk. She looked up to see carved and impassive faces. Perfect faces; she would have recognized them as Barrani no matter where they stood. But the color that graced the Barrani was absent, and in its place, a sharp, hard line of detail left nothing wanting.
She didn't ask who they were, or who they had been. She had the distinct impression she was supposed to know. She passed them, lingering in their shadow, and entered through the right arch. She wondered, given that they both led to the same long hall, what the difference was—but Teela had chosen the right this time over the left, and Kaylin followed suit. The door was wide enough to allow four people passage while they walked abreast.
The Hall was almost empty. One or two Barrani Lords and Ladies traversed it, involved in their own conversations. They looked up, but they did not look long. Kaylin wondered if they could actually see her.
Teela led them quietly. She paused as Kaylin paused, and moved when Kaylin's attention was once again in the present. She did not ask what had caught Kaylin's eye. Sometimes it was the floor; the stones there had been laid out like a mosaic, or a series of mosaics. She almost hated to walk across them. She saw trees, birds, deer; she saw swords, armor, and crown; she saw caves and mountains. The rivers that passed down the mountains were real; fountains were set at intervals throughout the Hall, blending with the floor. So, too, were flowers, and these were at least as remarkable as the floor itself.
"It has been long since mortals walked these halls," Teela told her not unkindly. "And they often tarry. It will be expected," she added, "and lack of attention to detail might be seen as a slight."
Given permission, Kaylin did tarry. The sunlight seemed endless, and the permutations of light through glass—for the walls were half glass, and all of it colored and composed like hard tapestry—blended with the stonework of the floor.
She tried to remember that death was waiting. But it was hard to see death in these things.
The hall came to an end, and the doors were not familiar; they had wandered in a different direction. Kaylin was certain she could find her way out—but not quickly; she was used to navigating by landmarks that were far more mundane.
Teela was kind again. She opened the doors. Then again, she was the only Barrani Lord present; Kaylin wasn't certain what happened to someone who wasn't if they tried the same thing. She didn't much want to find out.
"Now," Teela said softly as the doors began to open, "be wary."
" 'Say nothing' wary, or just wary?"
The brief frown was answer enough.
The doors opened into a garden. Or a forest. Or something that was so dense with living plants, it had no name. Kaylin tried not to gape. "Are we still inside?"
Teela's smile was slightly brittle.
Right. Say nothing.
But Andellen said, "Yes." And after a pause, he added, "The Barrani do not revere life. Do not think it. Do not make that mistake. They cultivate, and they claim, and they change what grows. They are masters. That is all."
Kaylin looked at Andellen's face. It was as impassive as it had been when he'd left the skiff. His eyes were the same shade of blue—given High Court, no surprise there—but his voice had been, for the space of those words, a different voice. "Did they ever love living things?"
He did not answer. But the weight of his silence acknowledged her question. She wondered briefly if this had been covered in Racial Relations classes, and for the space of a few seconds, actually managed to regret not paying attention.
Teela watched Andellen carefully, as if he had only just become worthy of notice. But she did not speak. Instead, she led them onto a small path. Like the stones in the outer hall, this path was composed of small works of art that often lay beneath leaves or blossoms.
Human minds, Kaylin thought with a grimace, could only hold so much beauty; it was like sugar, really. After a while, it was so overwhelming, you almost wanted its absence. Well, her mind, at any rate. She risked a glance at Severn. He looked almost Barrani in the artifice of sunlight and shade.
But no one drew weapons; everyone offered a polite and respectful silence, broken here and there by the clink of armor and the rustle of silk—or whatever it was the skirt was made of, damned if she knew—and the slight turning of leaf. They walked the path, hemmed in on all sides, as if the plants were, rooted, responsible for herding them.
Above, birds flew from branch to branch; they were colored so brightly, they caught her eye. Their voices were not the tiny, fluting voices of sparrows. They were raucous and squawking. She hoped they didn't crap on her dress.
Severn's lips compressed in a line that almost resembled a smile. She wondered if he'd had the same thought.
But the forest—or the trees—cleared, pulling away like a planted curtain, and the stones beneath their feet broadened in a large circle. Flowers were interspersed among those stones, and small fountains were laid along the circle's edge.
If she had wondered where all the Barrani were, she now had an answer: they were congregated here, in this odd chamber, trees rising like columns, and hemming them in like walls. They sat upon the edges of fountains, and stood, as if on display, among the careful artistry of flowering plants. They spoke in groups of three and four, moving slowly and gracefully when they moved at all.
In the center of the huge circle—and it was huge, once it was entered—was a chair that was, like the others she had seen, a living symbol; it had branches that flowered with white blossoms and golden hearts. They rode above the seat like tines, and cast similar shadows, smaller than the ones that rose above, higher and higher, until it broke the line of trees that hemmed them in.
A Barrani Lord sat upon this throne, and it was a throne, even if it hadn't yet been cut from the wood that formed it. He spoke with a woman who stood by the side of the chair, dressed in pale green and gold, her arms and shoulders bare, her pale hair bound in a braid that seemed to be composed of equal parts hair and blossom. She looked young, delicate, ethereal. Kaylin had to tighten her mouth to stop herself from gaping. She was the only Barrani Kaylin had seen whose hair was not black.
This was the castelord and his consort. Not even Kaylin could have mistaken them for anyone else. She hesitated, feeling so profoundly awkward she was suddenly certain a step in the wrong direction would crush flowers and crack stone. But Teela moved with a quiet confidence toward the throne, and if that was the last place Kaylin wanted to go, it was also the only place she would be allowed.
