Cast in Silence by Michelle Sagara

Author:Michelle Sagara [Sagara, Michelle]
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy
ISBN: 9780373803002
Publisher: Luna
Published: 2009-08-01T04:00:00+00:00

His driver was less copacetic than Nightshade himself, but it was Nightshade—thank the gods—who was Lord, here. They exchanged a few words, and then the carriage pulled away in the streets. Which was good, as the horses became instantly skittish when Tiamaris approached them. It had never occurred to Kaylin to wonder how well-trained—or calm—Imperial horses really were; they stood in the presence of Dragons, and they did their job even when a Dragon was literally at their back.

“You sent warning?” Tiamaris asked quietly.

“There is little warning that would arrive in time, should you intend me harm,” was the reply. Kaylin filed it under yes. “He was not, however, as controlled as he could be. Many of his kin were lost in the war. I will not have him embarrass either himself, or me.” Of the two, Kaylin knew which would be worse for the man, and she almost pitied him. In as much as she ever extended pity to the Barrani.

“And yours?”

“All of the Barrani are my kin,” Nightshade replied, and again, his words were threaded with amusement. It was very Barrani humor, however. “Come. This is not perhaps the finest part of this city, but you are also likely to cause less…surprise here. Are you familiar with the city?”

“I am familiar with parts of it,” Tiamaris replied. “But it is not my city.”

“No,” Nightshade said. “It is not. Who do you serve?”

“The Emperor,” Tiamaris replied.

Nightshade raised a brow. “Emperor? And what Lord of what Flight has styled himself Emperor among your kind?”

“We just call him the Eternal Emperor,” Kaylin said quickly. She touched Tiamaris’s sleeve in warning, because his eyes had shaded almost instantly to an orange bronze. Nightshade was amused. Dragons, in Kaylin’s experience, had as much sense of humor as wet eggs.

Nightshade raised a brow, and then shrugged. Kaylin slid between Nightshade and Tiamaris as they began to walk down the almost empty street. She wanted to stop and to ask questions of the passersby, but she didn’t want to be separated from Tiamaris. Severn, who hadn’t spoken a word, walked behind them all.

Still, if she couldn’t stop to ask questions, she had eyes, and she could look. The buildings here didn’t imply disinterest—at best—on the part of their owners; the streets were in good repair; there were no weeds, or at this time of year, shriveled husks of weeds, growing in the cracks between stones. The people were decently and warmly dressed, and if their clothing looked a little odd to Kaylin—and it did, the shoulders too pronounced and the colors too bright—they were obviously well cared for.

Having spent a winter or two in the oversized castoffs—or worse—of strangers who were clearly both wider and taller, Kaylin understood that wherever this was, it wasn’t home. It wasn’t Barren.

But the street, the shape of the street, was. It felt familiar, to Kaylin. She could walk it, she knew, and turn a corner four blocks ahead, taking a right; she could wind her way toward the White Towers, and the border along which the fief sat, watching for ferals—and worse.

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