Free Cast In Secret by Michelle Sagara Page B

today?”
    Severn said quietly, “Bet you dinner that it has something to do with the deaf.”
    “Meaning us.”
    “Meaning our kind, yes.”
    She thought about it for two seconds. It was a sucker bet, and she didn’t make those on the losing end. “No deal.”
    His smile was brief and dark. It suited his face so perfectly, with all its nuance, that she realized he was right: it was not a smile she could even imagine on Epharim’s face.

    Ybelline was waiting for them in a garden that was both sedate and seemed, at first, very simple. She sat at a table in the open air, and there were empty chairs around it – two empty chairs. Kaylin bowed briskly; Severn’s bow was extended. But genuine. He obviously knew Ybelline, and Ybelline’s graceful nod implied that she remembered him. They’d met before. Maybe they’d even worked together. Seven years, Severn had lived a life that Kaylin knew nothing about.
    Did you see what I can’t see?
she thought with a pang.
Do you know what he won’t tell me?
    As if in answer, Ybelline turned to Kaylin. But her antennae were flat against the honeyed gold of her hair, and her eyes were dark, a color that sunlight didn’t seem to penetrate. Kaylin had seen that color before in Tha’alani, but she wasn’t certain what it meant.
    “Please,” Ybelline said, her voice rich and deep, but still slightly odd. “Be seated.”
    They both obeyed her easy request as if it weren’t a thinly veiled command – and Ybelline was so gracious, it might not have been. She offered them tea, and like the color of her hair it was warm and honeyed. Severn drank without pause, although Kaylin knew he didn’t particularly like sweet in beverages. Kaylin, on the other hand, thought they should be desserts.
    “What you did, Kaylin Neya, was good.”
    Kaylin was confused.
    “Ah, I meant with the son of Raseina. The boy. Epharim told me about it.” She did not smile as she spoke, but her tone conveyed gratitude. Which was odd. “You are fond of children,” she added, “and now, the collective knows this.”
    Collective?
    “The Tha’alaan,” Ybelline said, raising one brow. She looked at Severn, who was wincing. But she didn’t miss a beat, and her brow fell. “Your introduction to my kin was not a kind one. Perhaps not harsher than you deserved, but still, harrowing.”
    Kaylin nodded at both statements.
    “I have been gathering my own thoughts among my kin,” Ybelline continued, “and I would have conveyed what I felt in you the first time we met – but this was better. The child touched you – he is strong – and what he felt, the Tha’alaan felt. Your people believe in lies,” she added, “because they cannot
hear
truth.
    “But there is no lie in that affection, although you fear us.”
    “He’s a child – ” Kaylin began.
    “He is, but he will not always be a child, and many of your kind would fear him for what he might see, or how they might affect him with their fear and their secrets, the things they cannot help but hide. Hiding didn’t occur to you when he ran toward you.”
    “It was a test?”
    “No. Not a planned test, but perhaps the gods are kind.”
    Kaylin had her doubts, and was aware that keeping them to herself around this woman was impossible. Then again, she generally didn’t keep that particular thought to herself, so no big loss.
    But Severn said, before she could continue down that path, “Why was this fortunate, Ybelline? Why would it have been necessary to make such a statement to the Tha’alaan?”
    Kaylin looked at Severn with surprise and a complete certainty that his question was actually one she
should
have been thinking.
    “Yes,” Severn said, not bothering to spare her because, well, Ybelline would probably hear it anyway, “it was. But where children are concerned, you seem to forget simple things like thinking.”
    Funny man. She thought about hitting him. Briefly.
    Ybelline’s stalks rose and fell, as if thought itself were too