Page 200 of Cast in Conflict

Silence.

But Kaylin had been thinking, in spite of the noise and the fear and the multiple different strands of worry that she’d been unconsciously weaving.

Bakkon was listening, he said, as she’d listened.

He spoke again, in what she assumed was his native tongue. She closed her eyes. Either she could hear an echo in the miasma of Ravellon air, or a different Wevaran was speaking across the divide of border and wall. As she listened, she saw the wall undulate.

She could see the wall with her eyes closed.

A brief glance at her arms confirmed that the marks of the Chosen were glowing—but they also seemed to be vibrating in place, as if they wanted to lift themselves off her skin as they so often did, but couldn’t.

She could almost hear them, as if they, in concert, were trying to speak—to join their voices to the voices of the two Wevaran.

“Bakkon,” she said, “let me get down. I think I’ll be safe.”

The limb applying the pressure did not lift.

“Okay, yes, that’s an exaggeration. But I think I need to be on the ground—or in arm’s reach of the...wall. I think I can make a space here that we might be able to get through.”

“What do you intend to do?”

“Listen to the wall,” she said quietly.

“How will that help you?”

“I don’t—I don’t know. But I think I can make the wall listen.”

He spoke his own tongue; the voice—the other voice—grew louder and less bell-like. His own voice remained almost frustratingly calm.

“Your friend on the other side does not think this is a good idea.”

“He probably doesn’t think it’s a disaster,” Kaylin replied, without much thought.

“Oh?”

“If he did, he’d make Mandoran come back down here right now.”

“Funny you should mention that,” a very familiar voice said. It was, predictably, Mandoran.

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“Terrano is with the other Wevaran, right?”

“Yes. He’s trying to be helpful, but he can’t completely understand what they’re saying. Our Wevaran has some ideas; their Wevaran is pretty sure it’s either unsafe or impossible.”

“I don’t think we have time for this. Emmerian can only keep things clear for as long as no other winged Shadows take to the air, and Bellusdeo—”

“She moved. She’s fighting in the airspace over Candallar, now. She told Emmerian to retreat,” he added.

Kaylin winced, because Emmerian was still here.

Mandoran surprised her; he grinned. “Sedarias pretty much said the same thing to me that Bellusdeo said to Emmerian. I can’t answer. But I’ve been listening really, really carefully. I’d like to go home,” he added. “Maybe at home the screaming will stop.”

“It’s Sedarias. If you die—or worse—it’ll break her.”

“Funny, that’s what Emmerian said, too. Except not about Sedarias. He doesn’t think Bellusdeo can handle your death. You ready?”

She blinked, exhaled, and accepted that she was, in fact, ready. She lifted both hands from the Wevaran’s back; the palm of one was glowing white, the other, glowing black.

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