Page 205 of Cast in Conflict

He lifted one wing and smacked her face with it—harder than was necessary, in case she couldn’t tell from the tone of his squawking that he was angry. She looked through the wing, her hands freezing in position against the Wevaran trunk.

She looked toward Bakkon.

If the Shadows had amassed, briefly, against a barrier that would not grant them exit, they had also turned, in smaller numbers, toward Bakkon. She had no doubt that if they reached him, he would become part of them. But he had built a shell, a web, around most of his body, and the webbing caught them, held them in place, preventing them from actually touching him.

She could see the strands of bright, bright silver grow taut as the weight of more Shadow joined the attempt. And she could see that even now, he was concentrating, weaving. Riaknon’s voice was a physical sensation as he spoke his native tongue. At a distance, she could hear Bakkon doing the same.

And she could see the strands of webbing from this side of the border rise, extending like minute tendrils toward the border—and through it. Terrano spoke in Barrani, his voice low enough that she missed the words; Riaknon didn’t. He grunted in response.

Mandoran shouted. Before he could interfere, Terrano touched the webbing, or rather, the loose strands that seemed to serve no purpose. She understood what he was doing only when he shifted his grip and began to disperse.

Through the eye that wasn’t covered in Hope’s wing, she saw Terrano vanish. But she could see something, an echo of his physical form, through the wing-covered eye. That echo, that odd impression, not quite mist but not at all physical, reminded her of sunspots, the things she got when she stared at the sun for too long; Terrano was more detailed but still out of place.

He crossed the boundary set by the Towers as if it didn’t exist. And then he walked through the press of Shadow bodies, through the odd tunnel that Kaylin’s walk had created. She could still see it, but only through Hope’s wing.

He approached Bakkon without attempting to catch the Wevaran’s attention—but Bakkon’s eyes, or at least some of them, rose from their sockets; the Wevaran was aware that something, or someone, was approaching.

Kaylin shouted, “He’s with us! He’s trying to help!” And then had to repeat it in Barrani. She would have lost sight of Terrano, there was so much Shadow—but through Hope’s blessed wing she could now see each Shadow element as a distinct shape, a distinct form. Terrano was not. But the thread he held—and it seemed to be one thread—was a bright, pale light; she knew where he was because she could see that thread clearly.

Shadows seemed to move through him as if nothing about him was solid; his movement across the ground didn’t slow.

Mandoran wasn’t happy, but if Terrano believed this was necessary, Mandoran was probably shouting into the void. When Terrano reached Bakkon, he lifted the single thread, and attached it to the webbing that protected the Wevaran from all the other attacks.

He then withdrew, fleeing across the border without touching the ground.

Kaylin moved from Riaknon to Terrano instantly.

“I’m fine,” Terrano said, as he once again solidified. He was a shade of green that was in no way appropriate for Barrani, and his eyes were all of black.

Mandoran was there in an instant. “Sedarias is going to kill us,” he said.

“She’ll have to catch us first.” Terrano turned and shouted a single word in Barrani: Now.

Bakkon stepped forward into his own webbing.

He appeared through Riaknon’s. “That went better than I expected,” he said, in Barrani.

“You owe the young...Barrani a debt,” Riaknon replied. “And the fieflord.”

“Fieflord?”

“I will endeavor to explain it all later.” He looked up, and then down to the two members of the cohort. “I believe there is still some danger here.” He began to spit more webbing; it was pink, but a lighter pink than it had been before Kaylin had attempted to heal him.

“I wish to remain here,” Bakkon said.

“I am not certain it is wise.” Riaknon raised one leg. “Can you see him? They call him outcaste.”

Bakkon’s eyes shifted; he didn’t raise a leg. “I see him.”

“He is a danger. I do not think they understand what they face. I did not understand it, either. I must speak with Lord Liatt, but if you remain here, I will return.” He stepped through the portal he had created and vanished.

Bakkon didn’t appear to notice. He was looking at the outcaste—and by extension, the two Dragons, gold and silver, who had engaged him. “They should not be there,” he said.

Kaylin turned to Mandoran. “Go to Bellusdeo—try to get her to—” A roar cut the rest of the sentence. Mandoran glanced at Terrano before nodding. He then headed up, framed on two sides by lightning that traveled toward the very physical black cloud that hovered above them.

“He’s not as good at this as I am—but he likes the Dragon, and the Dragon seems to mostly like him. Has to be him.”

Hope squawked. She will not hear him.

---