Page 148 of Cast in Conflict

“No, not in the manner of the first friend. Both he and I understood, because of Lannagaros and the loss of our mutual friend, that our lives—the whole of our beings—must be formed, must be rooted and grounded in ourselves, before we could safely bear the weight and demands of a hoard. It is...not dissimilar to how mortals interact with their families and their work. The family might be, on one day, the driving concern; on another, it might be the work itself. You are a Hawk, and you consider the work you do to be your calling, your vocation.”

Kaylin nodded.

“But the import of your friends is not lessened. You cannot always prioritize them over the duties you’ve undertaken, but they are also essential to you.”

She nodded again.

“That is...not the drive of the hoard. It can be, but it takes effort. Lannagaros felt that because the Empire is so large, the Emperor is choosing between different consequences, different outcomes. There is balance because of his hoard, not in spite of it. But again, he is unusual. My friend did not choose something as ambitious as an Empire.

“He understood the risks—as did Tiamaris—and he accepted them.” The silence that followed these words was longer, as if Emmerian had decided to break it but couldn’t find the words.

“Did he lose his hoard?”

Emmerian nodded. “What the hoard itself could not do to him, loss and grief did. His single drive in the absence of the hoard to which he had dedicated his life was vengeance and death; in the grip of the madness of grief he lost the ability to care about either his welfare or the welfare of any of the rest of us.

“I went with the flight that was sent to stop him; we were not numerous and we were not a war flight. I asked,” he added. “I asked to be included. I had known him, if not for the longest period of time, then for all of the formative ones.

“But I knew. When I saw him, I knew. He recognized me,” he added, voice soft. “He recognized me. But he understood why the flight was there; what its purpose was. I think he intended to die—but he could not do so on his own. He was not...himself. My presence to him signaled betrayal. Only betrayal. The loss had taken every element of our history from him; he was overwhelmed.

“He attacked me. I tried—as perhaps Mandoran tried, with Bellusdeo—to avoid him, to avoid hurting him.” His eyes closed. “In the end, that was not possible. The decision was not mine to make. And I have asked myself times beyond number if, had I gone alone, I might have been able to pull him back, to pull him out of that moment, that pain.

“Lannagaros was not kind; he said it was possible. But we have no easy way of going back, and even had we, I would not have been allowed to make the attempt. He was not the only Dragon to die that day.”

Kaylin nodded. She understood exactly how he felt beneath his carefully chosen, almost neutral words. She had lived in the same place for years. The reasons were different—of course they were—but the guilt and the pain were the same. She was certain of that.

Had Emmerian been part of the cohort, had he been Bellusdeo, had he been Severn, she would have reached out for him physically. She had no words of comfort to offer, because those words had never helped her when she was in this place.

Maybe this was why Karriamis had sent her to speak with Emmerian. Maybe not. Buildings—even Tara—just didn’t think like normal people.

She waited, but Emmerian offered no further words.

Kaylin didn’t consider this a comfortable silence. “You can’t leave?”

“I cannot leave. I have tried. And I fear that you will now be trapped here as well. I cannot say I approve of Karriamis.”

“Karriamis clearly has mixed feelings about you if you can be stuck here. And about me, as well, I guess.” She exhaled. “He said, when we first met, that you were good at masking your thoughts. Do you think that’s true while you’re trapped here?”

“Yes.”

“The comment he made that angered both you and Bellusdeo, the comment about being guardian of your race, did he kind of mean father?”

Emmerian nodded, and once again looked away.

“But—he didn’t get that from you.”

“No.” His hands were by his side; they were in loose fists, but the fists began to tighten.

“I can’t see your eyes,” she said.

“I know.”

“Are they red?”

“Probably.”

“Bellusdeo is only good at hiding her thoughts when she’s calm and deliberate. Which she...wasn’t.”

“Indeed. I do not believe, if she wishes to captain this Tower, she can keep those thoughts hidden. Karriamis is thorough and invasive in his testing. You said she was coming here.”

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