Chapter Nineteen

Kelyon

..Ooooh...

Yeah. So, how long's it been, guys? Two, three, four, five, six... Many many moons. o0! Fics have come and fics have gone, and now again I update.

Heheh. Okay, guys, I'll try and still update this in spuriatic bursts, but not much and not fast. So there. () Enjoy.

I'm falling even more in love with you

Letting go of all I've held on to

I'm standing here until you make me move

Hanging by a moment here with you

I'm living for the only thing I know

I'm running but not quite sure where to go

I'm don't know what I'm diving into

Just hanging by a moment here with you

Just hanging by a moment!

Hanging by a moment

Hanging by a moment

Hanging by a moment here with you!

-Lifehouse, "Hanging by a Moment"

I realized by the end of the second day that I had developed quite a distaste for wagons. I didn't know, for the life of me, why we didn't gate to a closer Hold and THEN ride to Kyrtian's Keep, but then, the wagons weren't too far a cry from the Holds themselves. I actually pitied the grel who had to drag all the Elven Lords' crap the leagues from Kyndreth's place to Kyrtian's. Of course, after years of working for the fat Elven Lords just like Lyon, I could relate to them.

Pathetic.

I supposed, when we got to the western Hold, that the wagons had been enchanted or the road done likewise so the damned caravan reached its goal quicker, because the revolting animals didn't seem to pull the heavy wagons nearly fast enough as it would take. Katha said nothing about it, though, not even in an undertone, so I kept my mouth shut. Those little bursts of wisdom are often the greatest and always the least noticed.

Haldor was waiting for us. I had expected as much. He gave me a curt, cold nod, which was returned with like propriety, which was also expected. He bowed low to Lyon, who couldn't notice the disgust that apparently only I could read. Nateli, the Greater Lord shadow to Lyon, studied him suddenly, intently, over a strong but oddly hawklike nose. The scrutiny was sudden, fierce, and swiftly ended with such abruptness that for a moment, I couldn't tell whether I had imagined the whole thing or not. Katha, however, had obviously noticed something. Her eyes burned with fire that made them flash, for the barest of seconds, from brown-black to the bright blue of their true nature. She forced her glare from the back of Nateli's head with obvious effort.

Katha's telepathy was very useful, even if I couldn't hear a damn thing. Tell me about it later, I thought 'at' her, feeling her gaze traveling over me and seeing the smallest of acknowledging nods. Haldor saw it, too; he raised his right eyebrow just slightly, and I met his eyes, wishing the two of us were telepathic. It would make it much easier.

I got the first glance I had ever gotten of the war-crazed, mad Kyrtian V'dyll Lord Prastaran that evening. I must admit, it was slightly disappointing. He escorted his mother, a lovely if aging Elven Lady in flowing vermillion silks that mirrored the exact color of the sinking sun, with a human man shadowing his steps like Katha shadowed mine and, come to think of it, Nateli shadowed Lyon.

"My Lords," Kyrtian demurred, bowing low, particularly to Lord Lyon. "Lord Kelyon and Lord Haldor, I am thrilled to have you in my home. V'kel Lyon Lord Kyndreth. And- I don't think I know your name."

"I am Krayer Lord Nateli, my Lord," purred Nateli, bowing shallowly. Kyrtian bowed back. The corner of Katha's mouth twitched, but I was the only one to notice.

"Of course. The Elven Lord who led the battle against the Halfbloods. It is an honor. And may I present, gentlemen, my Lady Mother, V'dyll Lydiell Lady Prastaran?"

The Lady smiled in a dazzling way. The Lord Kyndreth was grinning like a tiger with prey in its sights when he lowered his head in a short, shallow bow, murmuring pleasantries. "How do you do," fluted the Lady, then backed behind her son like a painfully proper Elven Lady.

At that moment, I truly wished it were Kala up there, grinning and speaking with authority in the matters, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with her husband; not the frail Elven flower and her son. Every second of these peoples' lives was a play, a drama, a poem of which every line had to be executed and acted out and then discarded without a moment's flaw. It wasn't a cage, it was a maze; an eternal maze with no exit, only an entrance, and you had to keep moving and keep moving, trying to find a goal that didn't exist. Elves weren't great, all-powerful beings who deserved to live and lord over humans. They- we- were all rats in self-made mazes.

I had spent years waiting and wanting hopelessly to come back here. Now I only wanted to get away.

At dinner, I hardly noticed what I was eating. It was funny- after years and years of the same dried beef and flatbread, then the pitiful excuse for my own cooking, then the roughed or stolen meals at the Citadel, one would think I would cherish the brilliant Elven cooking. But even the first meal, as wonderful as it had been, had been much underappreciated. The third dinner had been flat-out bitter.

"Three days, and they were making wedding plans?" Haldor asked, contriving to sound unaffected but incredulous. "Ancestors, they were just waiting for your reappearance, weren't they?"

I sighed, and shoveled a little more food in before answering. "As to that, what did you expect? The lovely Lady in question is from a very un-lovely family. An only child; infertility and stillbirths run rampant in her family and their magic is barely enough to make illusions. She couldn't get any other fiance, and her family WAS waiting for me to reappear. Apparently, they aren't rich enough to have a large dowager and very much don't want the indignity of having a daughter sitting around at home, passing out whenever she tries making roses prettier."

Haldor sighed, too, and leaned back; I noticed he hadn't eaten very much, but he was eyeing the food with the air of someone who half-expected it to bite back. I felt a twinge of unreasonable guilt, but what was I supposed to have done? As to that, Mother, Father, I was hoping I could marry this guy...

One of Lord Kyrtian's employed Lesser Lords, Tenebrinth, leaned across the table to tell a horror story so traumatic and good-humored that it had to be a lie about how his parents had engaged him to the most horrible witch he had ever met, emphasized when his wife, Lady Seryana, snatched the cloth napkin from her lap and hit him with it. Tenebrinth, the retainer Lord Selazian, and the other Lesser Lord employee, Pelanel, with their three wives, sat across from myself, Haldor, Katha, sitting between us and, at the end, the silent and solemn presence of Lord Nateli.

The Lesser Lords of this household had been a bit of a shock. Haldor and I had been working for Greater Lords before we were abducted by the humans, and I still remembered vividly what it had been like, working until the magic drain sent me staggering for my room, snarling at anyone who got in my way. Across the table, Tenebrinth dissolved into laughter, catching his wife in his arms and kissing her, completing the story with silent words. Her stomach was slightly bulged with a child curled inside it.

Pelanel ignored this, in fact shoving Tenebrinth into his mate and leaning across the table as the laughing elf righted himself. "So, what do they say of the mad Lord Kyrtian, out in the world, nowadays? You've been worrying about this, I'm sure."

Haldor, as usual, was quiet, and Katha conformed to the general form of humanity and tried to blend into the background. She had insisted, quietly but forcefully, in joining us, to keep us from fucking it up, and this time, Lyon and the others hadn't been entirely shocked by the unorthodoxy. Kyrtian had smiled, just briefly, and the human shadow behind him grinned openly, bowing his head to hide it.

I answered Pelanel's question as politely as I could without purely lying. "I cannot say I haven't given the Lord's reputation some thought, though by the looks of things, his Hold is well-managed." Well-managed, my ass. Kyrtian had a happy, magical paradise, it seemed, where brightly-colored birds sang as they did in the homes of the heroes of ballads- his retainers were healthy and good-humored, his mother was gentle and kind and very Ladylike; hell, his humans were even in remarkable shape, not scarred or bruised like they were in most houses. And if he had politely requested we not journey out to the grounds- where, doubtlessly, the pitiable field workers would shatter the illusion- without permission or guidance; hell, it was HIS Hold. I was just glad there was no bloodshed where I could see it.

"Of course it is," said Selazian, almost arrogantly. "His grandparents worked hard to get him the influence he has today, and he's got his Lady Mother around to keep anything from getting out of hand on account of juvenile idiocy."

"And, of course, us," added Pelanel, good-humored, as he leaned back into his chair and drank deeply from his wineglass. "And Gel-"

"Do shut up," Pelanel's wife said gently, suddenly, and the Lesser Lord's mouth shut with a snap. His two friends laughed- forced laughter?- to cover the awkward moment, then Tenebrinth began to talk, again.

I actually enjoyed the company of the other elves, but the pupil of one of Katha's eyes had remained fixed on Nateli throughout the meal, and as the food cooled and my stomach lurched at the thought of it, I stood gracefully and inclined by head at my companions, pitching my voice to be heard by the rest of the table, as well- the Greater Lords and the Lady. "I regret missing out on this remarkable meal, and I consider myself unfortunate, losing such animate company," I driveled, "but I'm afraid I must plead exhaustion, and beg leave to retire to the rooms the Lord Kyrtian has to generously offered." A little flamboyant, perhaps, but serviceable.

"Sleep well, Lord Kelyon," Kyrtian responded cheerfully. The Lesser Lords and their wives raised their glasses briefly; Haldor shrugged and grinned. He wouldn't accompany me, of course; he would come later. Katha rose with me and once more became my shadow, unnoticeable as any human.

My rooms- a large bedroom with a small bedroll for Katharyn beside the great pile of pillows and blankets on a gilded- or solid gold- frame where I was supposed to actually sleep, a large and gorgeous bathroom, and a relaxed sitting room that was tiny but held three chairs for casual guests-among-guests. Katha and I stopped in the first room, each of us folding into the chairs, while the door swung closed behind us.

"I assume that you aren't going to tell what's so very wrong until Haldor gets here," I said, shifting in the chair and finally pulling the too-nice, silk shirt off and letting it fall to the floor.

"Of course not," she replied, watching as I walked out of the sitting room and towards the other two, working at the dragon-shaped belt clasp. "And speaking of Haldor- getting undressed rather early, aren't we?" Her grin was wicked and feral; she reclined back on the chair and folded her long arms behind her head.

"I, my twisted little dragon, am taking a bath," I told her, matter-of-factly, tossing the belt at her head. She caught it with ease, tossing it on top of my shirt in one fluid motion. "I've been on the bloody wagon and getting covered in dust for too long; and truth be told, it's one of the few things I've truly missed about this place."

"You didn't bathe on the trip?" Katha cocked her head, slightly; the only time she had actually gotten in one of the wagons, aside from sleeping, was when she used the enormous, ornamental powder-wagon pulled by three disgruntled-looking grel and kept immaculate by magical means. Most Elven Lords used the bath three times a day, complaining loudly about the dust.

"I was covered pretty much head-to-toe in iron, Katha," I told her, matter-of-factly. "That place was buzzing with magic- magic to get the water flowing, magic to keep it hot, magic to keep out the dust, magic to keep the mirror from fogging, magic to do bloody everything. I would have combusted."

She chuckled, leaning back in the chair. "Alright," she acknowledged. Then her face grew more serious; in the hard angular features of the Iron People she was imitating, it was nearly frightening. "But be quick, okay? This is really important; it can't wait."

The corner of my mouth twitched. I hated it when she looked like that; it was going to be bad news.

Her name was Lady Vasarey, and she was, in the tradition of all elves, beautiful. Her hair came down to her hips, her face was perfectly sculpted, her body finely tuned and well-proportioned. No, her looks weren't the problem. They never were for elves. It was her mind- her painfully vacant, somewhat twisted mind.

Far more than myself, I felt for her parents. Her mother had been infertile, and neither her mother nor father had the skills to repair that flaw via magic. So they had paid most of their wealth to a wizard to simply get one chance at having an heir. They came up, not only with a female, but with Lady Vasarey.

She had a very narrow vision of the world, was the first thing. It included her, and a lot of people who weren't, to her mind, any more than minions to serve her floating in circles around her. It also included her father, the only person she considered as much a person as her, and in fact more; she bowed her head to him in anything he had to say, and would do anything she was told to do, enthusiastically if it involved dressing up and showing off her good looks. Beyond fashion, I don't think she could comprehend a wider world. In fashion, she was queen right under Lord Triana- though Triana, I'm sure, loathed her as only a woman who strove for power and prestige could loath a woman who floated about aimlessly and brainlessly. Hell, despite her deviousness, her cruel streak, and her knack for deception, I'd still marry Triana over Vasarey, and let her stay Lord of her manor, besides.

Looking at the woman I was told to marry the third day after I had reappeared from decades missing, one would think her a kind and compassionate woman. She used impeccable manners, and showed a skin-deep cover of respect for people she met, particularly men. But she couldn't see humans, or most other people underneath her in power, as actual life- and certainly not intelligent life- and was unwilling to treat them accordingly. Her slaves cowered before her, terrified that the vague, airy demands she had of them had differed in some way from what they carried out. It irritated me that this was the thing that made me most uncomfortable. Hell, some of the damned humans I'd worked for had been just as sickeningly cruel- and most elves I had served under had. I suppose, eventually, when the real world is shoved down your throat and what you've been told up society's ass, the lines between "born superior and deserving to rule" and "born inferior and suited only to serve" blur.

In forty-eight hours, I was going to have to marry that woman. I eyed the pile of iron jewelry and wondered what it would be like to escape; run away.

And go where? the annoying little voice of logic in the back of my head taunted. You have no one who would take you in. You would drag Haldor out of here and everything Katha gave up would be for nothing. You're trapped.

Trapped. Trapped, captured, enslaved, to one race after another, never-endingly. The slightly-dirty water drained from the edge-gilded porcelain bathtub as I pulled myself out of it with a minimum of splashing. A rat in a maze, thrown from Elvenlords to humans to Halfbloods to Elvenlords, and who cares what I think?

I snatched a towel from the stack and wrapped it around me, shaking out my hair. I didn't really need it; I could dry myself off with the minuscule magics I had learned from my mother and Haldor, but I didn't know whether cleaner clothes had been brought up and I had retained a bit of modesty where Katha was concerned. She was curled up on her sleeping roll when I strode back in, folding the clothing she must have gotten from downstairs. Seeing me, she grinned, and nodded to a pile of much finer stuff that must have been mine.

"Lyon singled out Haldor, he's been talking to him all night," she said, brightly. "I just told the girl down in the laundry room, time and time again, that you sent me down here to get our clothing from the caravan." She grinned wickedly, and her voice returned to the stammering, uncertain tone she used with anyone but myself and Haldor. "'Master Kelyon has sent me to get the clothing, miss. The clothing. I'm to get the clothing'. If it doesn't fit, it's because she got so tired of me she shoved the first articles that came to hand at me."

It was my clothing, of course. Even if Katha had whined and poked the girl, she wouldn't have acted up so badly. My pile, however, wasn't folded; it was left on my bed for me to take care of. The laundry-girl must have expected Katha to do it for me. I, of course, wasn't nearly so thickheaded; I sat beside my own clothing and started to fold it up and put it away.

"I hope Haldor comes up here soon, though," Katha murmured after a moment. "I have a feeling..."

I looked up when she cut off; her eyes were wide and suddenly had turned the intense blue that was her true eye color, instead of the Iron People brown-black. Then she blinked, and they were human again; she glared at me and I put some distance between myself and the clothing, trying to make it look like I had never tried doing my work for myself. She snatched a comb off the table and began working on my hair, spiriting behind me and snatching for clothing to dress me in as she went. I felt her hands, rough but efficient, wrapping the white silk shirt around my already-dry chest, buttoning down the front, then continuing with a pair of brown breeches. I stood when she motioned for me to, sat when she pushed lightly on my shoulders, and obeyed the silent command that hovered between us- silence. Stay silent. Say nothing, don't ask questions, be completely silent.

It lasted for a long time, Katha working on my wet hair, myself exerting a little bit of magic to drain the water from it. I wasn't as good as she was; I couldn't feel the magical scrying I knew must be on us right at that moment, but I could imagine the eyes staring down at us. I almost cursed, remembering the stack of abandoned iron. Right then, I wasn't considering the ill effects of our spy seeing Katha alone in the room.

My hair was completely dry and the goddamned comb hadn't caught on any tangles in the past few minutes, but for a long moment, Katha kept rhythmatically brushing, focusing inward. I didn't bother her until I was afraid that it would start to look suspicious, us sitting there with obvious chores to do, not moving from a task already completed. "Katharyn," I said, firmly, trying to emulate Lyon when he had selected a human to give orders to. "That's enough. Get to the clothing, now."

She didn't meet my eyes or say anything, only moved to the half-demolished pile of my clothing and began folding and putting it away. After a moment, she paused, her eyes flashing blue again, then relaxed and settled down.

"Oh, lord," she hissed. "Gods damn her."

"Who?" The voice came from the door, and both of us turned; a grin spread across my face at the familiar sight. Haldor crossed through the sitting room in a few long strides, sprawled down beside me on the bed, and kissed me, letting one moment hang where we did nothing more than hold onto each other.

Katha cleared her throat, gently, and Haldor actually chuckled throatily as he pulled back. The dragon shook her head disgustedly, then perched on the thin wooden chair that faced the bed, the humor vanishing from her face suddenly. "I believe, my friends, we have a problem."

"Have we ever not had a problem?" I asked, shrugging. Haldor was simply watching Katha, waiting for her to go on.

"I'm serious, Kelyon. The man who followed Lyon around had a dragonshadow." This was, apparently, supposed to be significant. I had no idea what a dragonshadow was, and I believe the complete lack of shock, coupled with my silence, if not the silence from the taciturn Haldor, might have communicated this. "Who was he? Why is he here?"

I met Haldor's eyes; he didn't know what this was about, either. "His name is Krayer Lord Nateli. He's a guest at Lyon's house."

"I thought so," she whispered, sounding frustrated. "Lord, my ass. Lady Nateli, gentlemen. Lady Myrenateli."

For a long moment, my heart stopped. "Myre."

"Hell yes, Myre," she replied, snarling now. "Dragonshadows... you can see them on shape-shifted dragons, if you know how. She was spying on us, just now... Watching Kelyon and I. For a very long time."

Haldor spoke again for the first time since he had come in. "Does he know about you, Katha?"

There was a moment's pause, then she shrugged. "No way to tell. We just have to be on our guards. She's probably not very happy with you two... She almost died because of you, then her plans were ruined by you. Be on your guards; no more slips. Act like normal elves, alright?"

I nodded; Haldor shifted uncomfortably. Katha and I stared at him, waiting for him to speak; after a moment, he folded his hands together on his lap and met Katha's eyes. "He almost... Ancestors. After the other three had retired, and Lyon had let off of me a little, he talked to me."

I put my hand on his shoulder, wondering what the hell had shaken the other elf; Katha wasn't half so subtle. "What the hell did she say?" she snapped, furiously.

"He talked mostly about the journey here... About how you two acted strangely, and he wondered what all we went through. I gave him our story, the one we made up, and he seemed interested and kept asking for details, like what Calleach looked like, and what the horses we stole looked like; and how we got all the way from the west side of the Elven lands to the east without stumbling over any towns." Haldor's voice cracked a little; he still didn't talk very much and talking too much hurt his throat. He continued, however, without prompting. "I got it all out the best I could. He seemed satisfied; asked me if I would go to his rooms later and tell him the story in more detail. I told him I had other plans, he made an arrangement for tomorrow evening without... I didn't even get to say anything." He smiled a little, ruefully, ironically. "The plans were made, and I just... agreed."

"Call it off," snapped Katha, her brow furrowing.

Haldor shrugged. "So we don't need to learn anything?"

"Nothing worth you dying," Katha growled. "Listen, Haldor- she doesn't want anything from you, she wants you to die. She's not... brilliant, from what I've heard. For a dragon, she's flatly stupid. She doesn't, I can guarantee, want information or anything like that from you; she's pissed at you and wants you to be a shrieking puddle of elf-colored tar."

"You're certain it's Myre?"

"No," replied the dragon.

"Yes," I said half a breath after.

Brilliant green and brown-black eyes suddenly landed on me, turned sharply away from each other. Katha, of course, was the one who spoke, a little dryly and a little overly cynically; "And how are you so certain, Kel?"

"Lord Nateli was the elf who supposedly led the elves against the Halfbloods. Came over with information, gave it to the armies, had his nose rubbed in a little dirt when the attack failed." I shrugged; it wasn't like my days had been so action-filled that I was wasting time, hearing about the people who were going to be traveling with me, and sharing quarters with me for a few days. "Doesn't sound like Keman, to me."

Katha shook her head. "Nor me. But... it could be another of the dragons who think that Alara and Kalama and the others are doing horrible things, trying to trap them."

Haldor shrugged. "If that were true, what would they care about us for?"

I elaborated for him. "They wouldn't even know we were from the Halfblood colony to the east; if they saw your dragonshadow, they would-"

"I can hide my dragonshadow," Katha said, cutting me off. "But yeah, if they saw it, they'd be after me; if not, there would be no point being after any of the three of us. So... we're pretty certain it's Myre."

"Cut off visiting him," I told Haldor, catching his gaze and tempering my words to keep them from sounding hard or commanding. "He- she- is going after you first because she kept trying to get you to help her, back the last time she saw us. But Katha's right; she's too stupid to want anything but to kill us."

"Aggravating bitch," Haldor snarled, but he was nodding.

For another moment, there was silence; Katha and I nodded at the harsh sentiment but said nothing in reply. At last, the dragon broke the silence. "So," Katha said, looking a lot better now that she had that off her chest, "tell us of your lovely bride-to-be, Kel."

Damned dragon. Hell knew she would be the one to bring that up. "She's insufferable, and you bloody well know it," I snapped, Haldor glared at the dragon, and Katha laughed light-heartedly. "She has the brains of Myre, the self-opinions of Calleach, and will probably be completely content living out the rest of her life sewing and dancing, while dragging me down like the anchor she bloody is." I sighed, then leaned back, head resting against Haldor's chest. "There is quite a bit I would choose to be doing, nights, over being forced to be breeding an heir."

Katha tossed two iron bracelets onto the bed, then rose. "Don't be seen," she warned; the bracelets, with luck, would prevent us from being visible to scrying. I slid one over my wrist; Haldor did the same. "And I," the dragon continued, "am going for a walk. Leave the door open when you go, Haldor, so I know when I can come back and get some sleep."

He nodded, but his attention was already a little caught up elsewhere. The door slammed shut behind her, and I leaned against the bed, feeling the other elf's lips press against mine and his heart hammering against my chest.