LITMIR.BIZ

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can be said to have ended at all. When he first arrived at my doors, I explained the nature of the Castle to him. The explanation was, of necessity, incomplete.

      You couldn’t explain the parts you don’t understand.

      No Barrani liked to own their ignorance; Nightshade was no exception. Indeed.

      The argument that you were having was heated.

      It was far less calm than most such discussions that occur within my domain.

      How much less calm?

      There was very little blood, but not none.

      He tried to kill you?

      I do not believe that was his intent. The Castle does not always judge intent correctly. There are rudimentary defenses under my control; there are subtle defenses which occur at the Castle’s volition. The subtle defenses engaged when he attempted to strike me.

      Kaylin uttered a loud Leontine curse, which caused Teela to raise a brow. And speed up again. Where is he now?

      That would be the question. I have not managed to ascertain his precise location. He is alive; I believe him to be materially unharmed. He is not, however, within the confines of the Castle with which I am familiar.

      You’re familiar with all it! It’s your castle!

      So I would have said, although I would quibble with your use of the word familiar. I have forced the Castle to conform to a shape and size—on the interior—that suits me. You are well aware that visitors who are unaccompanied frequently find that shape less fixed. Annarion is, at the moment, unaccompanied.

      So...your brother is arguing with your castle. A thought struck her as she jogged to catch up to Teela’s back. Is it still your castle?

      That would be the question.

      * * *

      The streets of the fief were empty. Kaylin could hear the occasional insect; that was it. The Ferals that hunted these streets were either absent or silent, which was almost a pity. In Teela’s current mood, Ferals on the hunt wouldn’t last two minutes—and ridding the fief of Ferals was never a bad thing.

      “Teela, can any of the others understand what Annarion’s trying to say to you?”

      Teela failed to hear the question. Since she had far better hearing than Kaylin, Kaylin assumed it was deliberate. She let it go.

      Severn, however, answered. “Yes. Teela attempted to have them translate. It did not go well. Mandoran offered to enter the fiefs to find Annarion. She said no.” He was walking in lockstep with Teela, but had taken the lead; it was work to keep it.

      Kaylin had spent over half of her life in these streets—but almost never at night, if she’d had any choice at all. Night changed the texture of the map. Fear could change its shape. She glanced at Severn, took a deep breath, and reminded herself that she no longer lived here. The streets of the fief didn’t own her. The fieflord didn’t, either.

      She was here with two Hawks. She was here because she’d chosen to cross the bridge; she could cross it again the moment she’d finished what she came to do. The fact that she didn’t fully understand what she had to do here didn’t matter. She was older, stronger, and she had backup.

      If Nightshade’s roving thugs attempted to stop her, she’d kill them. If they were Barrani thugs—and he had a few of those—she’d let Teela kill them. She’d help.

      The only thing she should be worrying about—besides Annarion and Teela—was the damned entrance to the Castle: it was a portal. The only time portals didn’t make her nauseated to the point of actually throwing up was when Nightshade literally carried her through the magical vortex.

      Being sick all over his polished marble floor was probably the smarter choice.

      “If you’re worried about the portal,” Teela said, as she finally slowed to a reasonable walk, “don’t be.”

      “Easy for you to say. Portals don’t bother you.”

      “That’s probably not what she meant,” Severn said, in exactly the wrong tone of voice.

      Kaylin had been paying too much attention to the rest of the streets; she’d been listening for Ferals. The streets were not well lit, and in most cases, the light was moonlight. It was a clear night, but even if it hadn’t been, Teela could practically see in the dark.

      What Teela was looking at now didn’t require Barrani vision to see; it was a black shape that rose into the sky. New buildings did not just appear in the fief of Nightshade. Even if the fieflord had a sudden change of heart, a building such as this one didn’t appear over the course of a couple of months; it was constructed over a decade.

      “Yes,” Kaylin said, although Teela didn’t ask. “It’s new. And it appears to be standing on the only piece of prime real estate in the fief.”

      It looked very much like the silhouette of a Tower.

      * * *

      Within five fief blocks, they confirmed what they’d strongly suspected: the Tower occupied roughly the same amount of space as the Castle that had once stood there. The courtyard—small and decorative, if one counted the empty hanging cages as decoration—near the entrance to Castle Nightshade was also absent. So were the gates. The Barrani who usually oversaw those black gates—the armored guards more suited to Court than to fiefs—hadn’t disappeared with them.

      They no longer guarded gates, or a fake portcullis. They stood to either side of doors that seemed, even in moonlight, to be made of polished obsidian.

      “This does not look promising,” Teela murmured. “Kitling, are you still in communication with the fieflord?”

      Since the mark on her cheek was warm enough it was probably glowing, the answer was obvious. Given Teela’s mood, Kaylin answered anyway. “He’s able to communicate with me.”

      “Ask him if this is what he expected the outside of his castle to look like.”

      The Tower was tall. It was taller than the Tower in Tiamaris, and looked infinitely less welcoming. The doors were its most striking feature, but the rest of the Tower wasn’t exactly nondescript. It suggested cliff faces on stormy nights; it looked sharp, angular, an almost natural protrusion.

      “He’s remarkably silent.”

      Tell Lord Teela that I am not certain it is wise to enter the Castle at the present time.

      No, thanks.

      I make no attempt to mark territory, or to assume command. The Castle is dangerously unstable. Tell her.

      Kaylin shook her head emphatically. She’s going in unless you forbid it. Given her mood, I’d be willing to bet she’d try anyway.

      A beat of silence followed. Will you caution Lord Severn?

      Same problem, except for the mood. If I go, he’s going, and if Teela’s going, I’m going.

      You will have to inform my men that I grant permission. At the moment, communications have been unreliable. Nightshade was at least partly amused. They will accept your words as if they were, in this case, my own.

      The mark.

      Yes. My brother dislikes it intensely; he wishes it removed. I have explained that its existence has saved lives, but he considers the practicalities incidental in this case.

      Is he wrong?

      You know he is not. When I consider the centuries in which I attempted to find solutions for his absence, I am reminded strongly of the mortal phrase: be careful what you wish for.

      Can he take the Castle from you?

      That is not my fear.

      What are you afraid of?

      He did not intend to do what I believe has begun. He is waking the Tower.

      You

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