Cast in Flame - Michelle Sagara MIRA

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of the world as he sometimes did with his wings.

      Kaylin remembered her first reaction to this room. She remembered the stiff, tense, hurt outrage that Annarion had directed squarely at his older brother in the West March before he had departed.

      “Can you tell Annarion that the statues agreed to this? It was a—a form of immortality. They were probably in love with his brother.”

      “Annarion is well aware of the effects Immortals have on the lesser races.”

      Lesser races. Kaylin rolled her eyes. She loved Teela like family, but there were whole days she had to work at it. “His words or your words?”

      “He hasn’t lived in this city. He hasn’t experienced the changes that have come down with the passage of centuries. They’re his words. But they could have been mine, once. They probably were. He sees mortals as essentially helpless.”

      “And you don’t?”

      Teela shrugged. “I see them as essentially mortal. If one confounds me, I put off thinking about them because they’ll be dead soon, even if I do nothing.”

      Whole very long days.

      “Annarion set them free?”

      “That’s the gist of it, I think. You could ask them. Some have rejected the transformation, but I don’t think their decision will stand. Annarion is angry.”

      “Did he always have this kind of temper?”

      “He was, of all of us, the most even-tempered.” Teela slowly sheathed her sword; the Leontine standing in the center of the room looked almost docile, which was both striking and very disturbing. “And the most idealistic. Never anger the idealistic. They feel right is on their side—and right excuses much.”

      “I don’t object in principle to his objections,” Kaylin pointed out. “Just the condescension they’re wrapped in.”

      “You can take that up with Annarion.”

      “If we can find him.”

      Teela nodded. “Can you find Nightshade?”

      “I haven’t tried. I forget just how much I hate this place until I’m in it. Do you know if Annarion’s found the vampires?”

      “...Vampires.”

      Severn raised a brow, but said nothing.

      “I don’t know what you’d call them,” Kaylin replied, trying—and failing—not to sound defensive. “They’re Barrani. They’re apparently ancient Barrani. They react to blood. I think they were already in the Castle when Nightshade took over. He said they chose the Barrani version of sleep here.”

      Condescension and arrogance drained from Teela’s expression. Normally, this would have been a good thing. Today it was anything but.

       CHAPTER SIX

      “Nightshade took the Castle,” Teela said, her knuckles white as she gripped the hilt of the sheathed sword, “and he left them here?”

      “I don’t think he considered them dangerous.” Kaylin hesitated, and then added, “They guard the Long Hall’s doors. I’m not sure the doors open without their permission for anyone but Nightshade.”

      “Prior to this, I could say many things of Calarnenne—but one of them was not that he was a fool.”

      “They’ve never hurt him,” Kaylin pointed out.

      “And how, exactly, do you know about them?”

      Kaylin swallowed. This was not the direction she wanted the conversation to take. “I met them.”

      “And he told you they were...vampires?”

      “Not exactly.”

      “I fear that exactly will have to wait. Although it occurs to me that any attempts to kill him have their best chance of success now.”

      She had her best chance of success in the West March, after the ceremony.

      “They were sleeping,” Kaylin said. “I mean, Barrani sleep. They weren’t moving, and they appeared to notice nothing.”

      “Except you.”

      Kaylin failed to answer the question.

      “And you were bleeding.”

      “Look—are they dangerous now?”

      “I don’t know. Do you think they can sleep through the changes that are now occurring in the Castle?”

      “I don’t see why they wouldn’t.”

      Teela muttered something about mortals under her breath. “Annarion has not—yet—encountered the ancestors. He is now aware that they are present. And Kaylin, they were a danger, even in our time.”

      “By ours you mean yours and theirs.”

      “Yes. Unfortunately, this doesn’t seem to have engendered a higher degree of caution in Annarion. It has, on the other hand, increased his disgust.”

      “What are the others doing?”

      “They are speaking with Annarion. They are more effective, at the moment, than I can be.”

      “That’s good.” Kaylin was looking at her arms. Without another word, she rolled up her sleeve and pressed the gems on her bracer; the gems were already flashing.

      “You wore the bracer when you knew we were coming to the Castle?” Teela asked, the words imbued with disbelief verging on outrage.

      “I’m living in the Palace. You were the one who told me to observe correct form while there—and by Imperial dictate, I wear the bracer. Diarmat would probably reduce me to ash if he noticed it was missing; he’d be grateful for the excuse.”

      “Less talk about the Dragon Court while we’re here,” Teela replied, in a quieter voice. “Your arms are glowing.”

      “I’d noticed.”

      “Do they hurt?”

      “No. Not yet. You know I was looking forward to a few weeks of boring report writing and whining about Margot, right? And finding a quiet place of my own again?”

      “And that’s working out well for you?”

      “Very funny. On the bright side, it’s not my fault this time.”

      “If you even suggest that this is my fault....”

      “Yes?”

      “You’ll have a chance to personally compare my temper to Annarion’s.”

      “I’ll pass, if it’s all the same to you.”

      “I thought you might. Roll up your sleeves,” she added. As Kaylin was more or less already doing that, she considered this unnecessary nagging. She tossed the bracer over her shoulder, but Severn bent to pick it up. She didn’t know why he bothered. The bracer was magical; no matter where she dropped it, it made its way back to Severn.

      “You don’t need to cart it around. It’ll show up on your table, regardless,” she reminded him.

      “While you’re living in the Palace, a certain amount of caution is probably wise. I’d be willing to bet a large sum of my personal money that it’ll return. I’m not willing to bet your life.”

      The marks on her skin were a luminescent gold. They were warm, but not uncomfortably so. She wasn’t terribly surprised when they started to swim in her vision. This didn’t, on the other hand, mean there was anything wrong with her eyes.

      The small dragon warbled and glanced at the marks. He flapped a bit, but not in an angry way. He was possibly the only non-mortal

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