Page 87 of Cast in Conflict

“Could Teela?”

“If she listens to the rest of the cohort, yes.”

“Let me try something.”

He stiffened for the first time. “What?”

She turned to face the patch of cliff in which the remnants of roots seemed to be exposed. Reaching out with her left hand, she touched a gnarled, desiccated root. She cursed.

“What is it?”

“It’s bloody cold. I think my hand might be stuck to it.”

“Good thing you didn’t lick it, then.”

“I was seven years old!”

Bellusdeo snickered. Emmerian didn’t.

Severn reached out to touch the root as well. He nodded. He then touched the dirt in which the root was lodged and shook his head.

Kaylin exhaled. Hand on ice, she said, “Hello. My name is Kaylin Neya. I’m here with friends, and I hope you’re accepting visitors.”

She felt movement in the ice beneath her hand; the side of the cliff seemed to absorb the root whole, changing, as it did, into something infinitely more rocky. She stepped back; the transformation didn’t seem to require contact.

“I think that’s a qualified yes,” Bellusdeo said, joining Kaylin although she kept her hands to herself. “There,” she added. A cave mouth emerged from the rock face.

“You brought light?” Kaylin asked Severn.

The gold Dragon snorted. “I can light the way. You can, as well, and it’s good practice.”

“I can’t consistently—”

“The marks of the Chosen. But that shouldn’t be necessary while either I or Emmerian is here.” She stepped past Kaylin.

Emmerian cleared his throat, a rumble of sound. Nothing Dragons verbalized was ever subtle.

“You are not here as my guard,” Bellusdeo said stiffly, without looking back.

“No. I believe the two Hawks are. The Emperor’s Imperial Guard is, with a single exception, comprised entirely of mortals. Allow Lords Kaylin and Severn to scout. It is the duty they’ve been given.”

“We are not at war. Scouts are not required.”

“We are always at war,” was the very soft reply.

Her exhalation was smokeless. Kaylin felt her shoulders inch down her back. “Yes,” the gold Dragon said. “You are right. Hope, I will eat you if anything bad happens to her.”

Hope sat up—slowly and somewhat reluctantly—and squawked a reply.

“You know how it goes,” Kaylin whispered. “The only person who’s not allowed to worry about her friends is me.”

“I heard that. And you are allowed to worry as you please—you’re just not allowed to make it our problem.”

The mouth of the cave was one and a half people wide—if you were Kaylin-sized, and most of the people present weren’t. Mandoran hadn’t drifted down from the heights, either—but he didn’t care if she worried about him.

“We’re going to need light.” She glanced over her shoulder—the one Hope wasn’t snickering on. Having received Emmerian’s support for scouting, she didn’t want to go back to Bellusdeo and ask her to create magical light. Not when—as the Dragon had pointed out—she could provide illumination on her own. Grimacing, she rolled up one sleeve and stared at her arm.

The marks that adorned it began to glow. The glow was gold, but the edges of each runic mark were blue, and this time, they didn’t all emerge from her skin to rotate in a pattern around the forearm. She touched the one that looked the most familiar, and it rose, shedding light. She felt its weight as if she were carrying actual gold.

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