Page 84 of Cast in Conflict

Barrani often considered their closest relatives their most dangerous enemies. Kaylin cringed because in her limited experience with Barrani families, this had proven true.

“Given that there are no others who can bear clutches, the lack of a clutch, even now, is a threat to the race.”

“But they did just fine when Bellusdeo wasn’t here.”

Mandoran and Bellusdeo exchanged a single glance.

“I just... I don’t get it. They’ve been where they are for a long time now. Centuries, right? And they’ve been fine. But now that she’s here she’s supposed to drop her entire life and have babies—”

“Eggs,” Mandoran said.

“Whatever. Babies. Eggs. She’s supposed to just have them all right now when she doesn’t even have a father in mind? She’s got time.”

Mandoran glanced at Kaylin. “Coward.”

“What?”

“You just want this entire fight and its decision to happen sixty years from now, when it won’t be your problem. You think like a mortal.”

“I am one. How do immortals think?”

Mandoran shrugged. “I think it’s up to Bellusdeo.”

“But you just argued against it!”

“No, I didn’t. I’m pointing out what Dragons are probably thinking. I figure Bellusdeo can speak for herself. And you’ll note she hasn’t argued with my interpretation. Kavallac’s feelings are immaterial because she can’t affect what happens.

“But Karriamis? He can. If it’s Bellusdeo who wants the Tower and he understands the position his former race—or present race—is in, it’s going to affect his decision.”

“And there’s no way he doesn’t know.”

“No.”

“Candallar probably supported their attempts to kill or smear her.”

“Yes. That is the only possible sliver of light presented. It’s possible Karriamis is far enough removed from the Dragons that it won’t matter.”

“And there’s only one way to find that out, isn’t there?” Bellusdeo said. Her eyes were orange, but flecked with neither red nor gold. The inner eye membrane was up, muting the color. She started to walk away, stopped, and looked over her shoulder at Mandoran. “Thanks.”

The road that led to the fief of Candallar—as it was currently named on official documents—was in the same state of repair as the road that had led to Liatt. Kaylin thought it a pity that these buildings weren’t occupied, and then pulled back; she had no idea if they were occupied or not. They would have been, when she had lived in Nightshade, wouldn’t they? By people as desperate as she had been when she’d been younger.

But she saw no faces in the windows, and knew that the warnings about the border zones had, and would have, lingering effects. She wondered if Ferals crossed over here, in a way they wouldn’t when she’d been a citizen of Nightshade—if citizen had any meaning in that fief.

That is unkind.

You never cared.

No. He was both amused and very slightly chagrined. Do not look for sympathy or empathy from the Barrani; you are bound to be disappointed.

That’s just an excuse, she shot back. Teela. The Consort. Even members of the cohort. None of them would be like you.

Sedarias would, in all likelihood.

That was, Kaylin thought, the core of her problem. She liked individual members of the cohort; she could even truthfully say she liked Sedarias. But Sedarias would, in her view, be like Nightshade and not like Tiamaris or Durant. Maybe he was right. Maybe the Barrani who took power assumed that power itself was the defining social trait, the only one that needed to be respected.

She didn’t know the people of Candallar, but felt she still had more in common with them than she did many of the citizens of Elantra, whose laws she was sworn to uphold.

You are a Hawk. What you might have had in common with the people of my fief has long since been lost.

---