Page 196 of Cast in Conflict

“I’ll go through with Bakkon.”

“Seriously?”

She lifted a hand and smacked the back of his head. “Get. Off. Right. Now.”

Severn—

Terrano says they’re arguing with Mandoran. Well, no, they’re shouting at Mandoran and he’s not answering. Terrano is offering to come help persuade him in person.

No!

No, indeed. Now they’re arguing with Terrano—and he’s arguing back. According to Terrano. I think this might have even been deliberate.

And you’re not arguing with me.

No point. You’re not going to leave the Wevaran until you know he can get through the barrier. Or until you know he can’t.

She tried to push Mandoran off Bakkon’s back, but there was only so much she could do with one hand, and she was unwilling to release the Wevaran. She didn’t know what the barrier would do. She had seen Shadows stop at its edge before, but hadn’t seen them take a run at it and bounce. And Bakkon was still moving, but with less frenetic, dizzying speed.

I asked you to stop feeling guilty, the Wevaran said.

I don’t. Not yet.

You do understand that you cannot lie to me while we speak in this fashion, yes?

Fine. Whatever you’re sensing now is nothing compared to the guilt I’m going to carry for the rest of my life if you don’t somehow survive this.

For the first time, she felt genuine Wevaran amusement. Amusement and a kind of bright resignation. Bakkon approached the Ravellon barrier at what was, in comparison to the rest of their sprint, a jog.

Tell Terrano to tell people outside of the cohort that Bakkon is like Starrante in the Academia. He’s not—

Not a Shadow?

He’s not under anything else’s control.

Severn nodded; she felt it. She started to speak and stopped, because even internally words and syllables were broken by the roaring of Dragons. This time, it wasn’t the outcaste—it was Bellusdeo, whom she recognized, and Emmerian. She looked up, and then had to look down again; Bakkon’s more straightforward approach wasn’t exactly done on the ground.

Fire clipped him again, but the fire banked almost before it had a chance to cling. Bakkon saw the barrier. Kaylin saw the effect of the barrier, but not the thing itself.

You cannot see it.

No—but don’t try to show me, okay? You have way too many eyes, and I think I’ll just get dizzy, or worse, if I try to look through all of them as you do.

Fire touched the ground, this fire orange-yellow; purple fire split as if to allow it passage. The ground screamed. That, she didn’t need Wevaran ears to catch.

“Mandoran—”

“I’ll teach you useful words when we leave if you stop nagging me!”

“Fine! What are you doing?” Mandoran was becoming transparent. He was still attached to Bakkon’s back; she could touch him. But she could see through him now, as if he were made of glass.

He said nothing, and it was loud enough she couldn’t hear him grinding his teeth, which she was pretty certain he was doing.

Emmerian roared; his shadow covered the zigzagging up-and-down path Bakkon was now following. Mandoran cursed—in Leontine—and said, “Fine, you win.” He leaped up, off Bakkon’s back. He didn’t land on the ground. He didn’t attempt to reach it; wind seemed to yank him off his perch, as if the only gravity he was now subject to had been dependent on the Wevaran’s back.

“Duck!” That was definitely Mandoran. She ducked. Bakkon all but flattened himself. Emmerian, almost dragging enormous claws across the ground, passed them at speed, the underside of his wings visible. There wasn’t a lot of dust to kick up on this side of the Ravellon border—the only positive Kaylin could think of.

“LEFT!” Mandoran shouted.

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