Page 129 of Cast in Conflict

“Do you still want the Tower?”

“That is the question, isn’t it? If you had asked me four days ago, I would have said yes. Now?” She exhaled a bit of smoke. “Now I am uncertain. I admit that although I’ve known Tara since my arrival, it did not occur to me that I would have to compromise with another individual—and at that, a Dragon. I assumed that the Tower would conform to the conflict that has defined both of our lives—mine and Karriamis’s. That we would be compatriots.

“I am uncertain of anything now. And I am uncertain that I could prevent Karriamis from taking risks I would never, ever take. We could fight—if he confronted me in combat, I think I would almost enjoy that—but I could not win that fight in the only sense that matters. He is the Tower. Agree with him or no, he gave the remainder of his eternity to become sentinel against Ravellon.

“What we want, the war that we each perceive, is not the same. What I must decide is whether or not there is enough overlap that we might work together.”

She did not add that Karriamis had to decide whether or not he wanted her to be the Tower’s captain. Kaylin thought he couldn’t do better—but no encounter with Candallar had been pleasant or helpful, and in the end, the fieflord had tried to kill Robin, a crime from which he couldn’t recover in Kaylin’s view.

It had killed him.

The Arkon—the former Arkon—had hoped to spare him for Karriamis’s sake. Candallar had not allowed him that grace. Kaylin felt no grief at his passing, but wondered if Karriamis did. She was almost certain, if the circumstances had caused Kaylin to be like Candallar, Helen would still grieve.

“I would,” Helen said softly. “And perhaps that is true for Karriamis, as well. Tara grieved the slow withdrawal of her previous captain.”

“She’s never going to have to deal with that again. To Tiamaris, Tara is his hoard.”

“Yes. I believe she will be happier than she has been in her long existence as the heart of a Tower. I am less certain about Karriamis, but Dragons are not famous for their ability to be transformed by joy. It is time,” she added, voice gentling.

Bellusdeo stood. “Past time. His choice is only one half of what is necessary. Today I wish to know if he is worthy of me.”

Mandoran smiled.

Emmerian was waiting, as promised, in the fief of Tiamaris. He was not alone; Tiamaris was also waiting, his expression folded into familiar impatience.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Kaylin told him. “I was ready to leave on time. I wasn’t even informed there was an ‘on time.’” Hope was draped across her shoulder; he lifted his head and squawked at Tiamaris.

Tiamaris grimaced. “I have been asked to make sure that your travel through my fief is pleasant and without incident,” he told them, still looking at Kaylin. “And I will check the border while I am there. Tara is worried.”

“Tara’s fief was without a fieflord for a long time. It’s been weeks and Karriamis is not Tara. I get the sense that he’s enjoying the peace and quiet. He really doesn’t seem to be in much of a hurry.”

“That is your impression, yes. Tara, however, is concerned.” And Tara’s concerns took precedence over anyone else’s. Always. Kaylin suspected they were more important than Imperial concern—but was also uneasily certain that Imperial concern did exist.

Bellusdeo immediately turned toward the fief of Candallar and began to walk. Tiamaris joined her, and Emmerian pulled up the other flank. Kaylin and Severn took the rear; Mandoran and Terrano were neatly bracketed between the two groups.

Bellusdeo therefore raised her voice so that it carried to the back ranks. “Why is Tara concerned? Kaylin’s observation is materially true.”

“While she concurs with Karriamis—that the freeing of Spike was in some ways essential to the future of the High Halls—she considers the outcome almost random; it is not a risk that she would take unless pressured to do so.”

“By you?”

“By me.”

The gold dragon snorted. “Which means never.”

“It is not a risk that you would take, either.”

“No. But I have been reminded that risks were taken that I would not have countenanced either, and my people—and I—directly benefited from them. I would not have allowed it. The cost of failure was too high. I am here because I was not asked to make that decision. I am grateful for the outcome. I believe the High Halls, while unsettled, is grateful, in the end, for Spike.

“And Lannagaros is beyond grateful for the existence of, the emergence of, the Academia.” She exhaled a steady stream of smoke. “I feel old,” she said. “And young. And callow with youth. It is unpleasant.”

Mandoran missed a step. Terrano caught him. Neither of the two Barrani spoke a word out loud—but that made sense. They were walking behind three Dragons, and they considered only one of them a friend.

That is not why he stumbled, Hope squawked.

“Why, then?”

She is openly calling attention to her failings, and in a louder than usual voice. It is...not like her.

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