“It is not an act of forgiveness on my part; nor is it an act of mercy.” Eyes still the wrong shade of blue, she approached Kaylin from the left. The small dragon raised its head to meet her steady gaze. This time, when she lifted her hand—
gingerly, palm open to indicate its emptiness—he stretched his neck and very gently touched the center of her palm. “It is a striking creature,” she finally said.
“Around the office,” Kaylin replied, sliding into Elantran, “we call that ‘cute.’”
“And you will take him with you when you travel to the West March.” She exhaled once and turned to face Kaylin. “You frustrate me, you anger me, and you surprise me. You have not yet bored me. I warn you not to start.” Before Kaylin could think of a reply, the Consort continued. “Perhaps our use of the word ‘caution’ and your use is separated by circumstance of both birth and experience. Regardless, I will tell you to be careful.”
“Of him?”
The dragon lifted its translucent head.
“No; I would not waste breath on a warning that I knew in advance would serve no purpose. Barrani Caste laws are not Dragon laws; there are those who seek to both shelter and support the Arcanist. Were there no Dragons involved, he would now be Outcaste. The High Lord’s rule is too new for such an action to be taken without extreme caution, but his preference has been made clear. You have some experience with the Outcaste,” she added, eyes narrowing. “I will not ask for details; you bear Nightshade’s mark. I would ask you to consider the company of Lord Andellen on your journey.” She turned.
Kaylin, however, froze on the spot in the way people did when they’d processed enough information and boiled it down to bad news. “Wait, Lady.”
“Yes?”
“Are you telling me you think our missing Arcanist is going to the West March?”
“If he is wise, no. But wisdom has not been demonstrated in either of the two investigations involving the Imperial Law. There is considerable danger.”
“I’ll have Teela.”
“It is not the direct threat that should be your concern.”
“What should?”
“I am not inclined to be more helpful at the moment. I am certain you will have an answer to that question if you are both patient and clever.”
“What is his name?” she asked the Consort’s retreating back.
The Consort didn’t reply. But the fact that she’d mentioned him, nameless or no, made Kaylin a little bit happier. This Consort, with her dark, hard eyes, wasn’t the Lady Kaylin had first met—but maybe, in time, she would be.
* * *
The emergency meeting of the High Council took the better part of four hours, and if Kaylin was nervous—and she was—her stomach didn’t care. It would have been embarrassing under normal circumstances; it was terrifying here.
As the High Lord and his Lady had no more direct words for Kaylin, she remained utterly silent. Teela spoke four times, once to ask a question; she wasn’t the only one. Evarrim spoke; he was angry. He didn’t reference the small dragon, though. Darrowelm was as quiet as Kaylin. As Kaylin didn’t recognize most of the other Lords by name, it was harder to track them; she couldn’t just ask Teela who they were. But she listened. The Consort had made clear that the would-be Outcaste Lord—whose name was frustratingly never mentioned, possibly because of his pending status—had sympathizers among the Barrani.
Teela was not in a good mood by the time they were dismissed. The Barrani, as a whole, were in the same mood as Teela. It made the Consort look friendly. Kaylin thought about dragging Teela to a pub, but that wasn’t going to happen in the immediate future, either; the dismissal apparently required each Lord to approach the throne, in a long line, as if they were paying their final respects.
This took another hour and a half, and involved another bow five feet from the seated High Lord. Kaylin wondered briefly if etiquette lessons in this Court would be as onerous as they were in the Dragon Court.
She watched carefully as the Lords that preceded her approached the throne; she noted the style of each one’s bow and counted the seconds they held them. It was never longer than ten; it was never less than three. Given she was only an honorary member of the Court—one whose oath of fealty was to the Imperial Law, if not the Emperor himself—she elected to hold her bow for ten seconds.
When she rose, the High Lord said, “Safe journey, Lord Kaylin. Do not forget my brother’s ring; it is a sign of his favor, and in the West March, it is akin to Law.”
* * *
“Why did the Lady ask to speak with you in private?” They were the first words Teela spoke, and she spoke them only when the carriage was halfway from the High Halls to the Halls of Law.
“Mostly? To let me know she was angry in a place where my temper wouldn’t embarrass her.”
“I thought it courageous of you to speak at all.”
“I didn’t have much choice. To be fair, she wasn’t the only one who was angry.”
“You refer to her question about the familiar?”
“Yes.”
“It was not an unreasonable question, kitling.”
“No, of course not. Who wouldn’t put an entire world on the line for the off chance of getting their hands on a creature that doesn’t sleep and won’t leave them alone?” The small dragon bit her ear, but not hard enough to draw blood.
Teela eased into a chuckle. “You are not Barrani, clearly.”
“If she was asking the Barrani, I wouldn’t have cared. They would have said no, regardless.”
“But in their case, it would have been a lie?”
“You wouldn’t do it.”
“I? No. A smaller city, on the other hand—”
Kaylin glared, which made Teela laugh. “Try to be less predictable, kitling.”
“As long as we don’t have to go back to the High Halls anytime soon.”
“We won’t.” She tapped on the roof of the carriage and it began to slow. It was not, however, anywhere close to the Halls of Law.
“Where are we going?” Kaylin asked as a familiar building with a large hole in its walls loomed into view.
“To find a ring.”
“Ironjaw said he’d fire anyone who let me get close to the crime scene.”
Clearly other people’s jobs were not Teela’s concern.
* * *
Some of the Hawks were still on duty; they could be seen at the height of the scaffolding. Kaylin knew that over half the building had been evacuated, pending repairs. There was some argument in progress about the financial jurisdiction of those repairs. Kaylin had a strong interest in the resolution, but no ability to influence it.
The Hawks let her in, which is to say, up, after a brief exchange of words with Teela. Kaylin climbed the scaffold’s ladders with ease.
Luckily—for a value of luck that had two sides—Joey was on duty. Unluckily, so were two Imperial mages. Teela fielded their questions, which were curt and full of the irritability mages displayed when the work they didn’t particularly enjoy was extended by an unhelpful interruption. On the other hand, that interruption included a small, translucent dragon.
Here, Kaylin’s ignorance proved useful; she had nothing to hide, because she had no solid information to give them. She carefully failed to mention the word familiar; on the other hand, she chose to answer their questions before she offloaded questions of her own. Yes, they had found evidence of her few belongings in the wreckage. No, those belongings had not miraculously survived the detonation of the bomb. As proof, they had buckets—literal buckets, as those were most easily raised and lowered—of cloth scraps, wood splinters, glass shards. She recognized some of those shards as mirror shards. The mirror was the most expensive item she owned, or had been. She also found the handle of her wardrobe.
“Business face,” Teela whispered as Kaylin turned it over in her hands.
Kaylin nodded. It wasn’t the first time an Arcane bomb had exploded in the city. It wasn’t even the first time
she’d had to survey both the wreckage and its detritus. It was just the first time it was so personal. She tried to set it in the proper context and surprised herself by mostly succeeding.
“What, exactly, are you looking for?” the older of the two mages asked. He was not a young man, as he’d pointed out at least three times. He’d also introduced himself as Feluann Harcastle, of the Order of Imperial Mages.
“A ring,” she replied.
Feluann nodded. “Barrani work?”
“Yes.”
“You will have to claim it from the Halls of Law. It seemed valuable, and it was unharmed by the explosion itself; the Hawk on duty at the time didn’t want to leave it lying around in the buckets used as receptacles.”
Kaylin thanked him, meaning every word. It was one of the rare occasions in which she felt grateful for the existence of the Imperial Order of Mages, and was proof that, on occasion, the small dragon—and her ability to be polite about his existence—was actually a positive.
* * *
Getting the ring back was trickier than getting the information from Feluann had been, possibly because the Hawks on duty in Articles and Evidence weren’t all that impressed by the cute, small dragon. Kaylin had to go to Marcus, bare her throat, and wait fifteen minutes in front of the chaos of his desk before she had his attention; she had to spend another ten minutes explaining why she needed the ring back. In theory, it was part of the evidence left after the explosion; in practice, Marcus was just sharing his mood.
“I’m going to the West March,” she reminded him. “I’d like to start my stay there without giving offense before I even open my mouth.”
Marcus glared.
“It’s a ring he gave to me as a sign of my status as chosen kin. I can’t show up without it if it’s still in one piece.”
Leontine sense of fashion warred with Marcus’s hard-won knowledge of the Barrani. Given the fact that his primary contact with the Barrani were his Hawks, he struggled a bit before growling across the office to a waiting Caitlin. “Mallory’s not going to like it.”
“Mallory’s in Missing Persons.”
“Yes. But Articles and Evidence overlap our offices; believe that he’ll hear about it.”
Kaylin tried to look suitably penitent; the Leontine growled. “Go. Don’t cause any trouble before you leave, or you might not make it.”
“That won’t break my heart.”
“Not your heart, no.” He growled to make his point; his fur rose an inch. “And if you’re thinking Mallory will have time to forget in the two months you’ll be on vacation, think again.”
“No, sir,” she replied. “It’s Mallory. Two months will just give him time to agitate for my expulsion. Again.”
* * *
Severn met her before she left the office. He was quiet. It was the wrong type of quiet.
“Are you all right?” she asked for the third time. He’d failed to hear it the previous two.
He nodded. His silence took them to the front doors and down the stairs into the streets, where they joined the flow of traffic. He didn’t add any words to what wasn’t a conversation; he hadn’t asked about the High Halls, either. They made three more blocks before Kaylin stopped walking.
It took him a third of a block to realize he’d left her behind; he turned back, where she stood watching, arms folded.
The line of his mouth shifted and thinned; he took one long breath. When he released it, he almost looked normal, for Severn. “Is it that obvious?” he asked.
“A little.”
His smile was slight, but there. “And if I tell you I can’t talk about it?”
“Is that what you’re going to tell me if I ask?”
He nodded.
“Fine. I’ll try my hardest not to ask. Have you eaten?”
He shook his head.
“Why don’t we head—” She stopped.
“—to the Palace?”
She nodded. “The one good thing about living with Dragons is I probably won’t have to scrounge for food, and I won’t have to borrow your money.”
His brows rose. “I don’t believe I’ve ever lent you money.”
“At least twice a month, every month, since we’ve been partnered.”
“You’ve been keeping track?”
She started to walk.
“That money wasn’t a loan, Kaylin.”
“I intend to pay it back—that makes it a loan.”
“First, with the way you handle money, you won’t be able to pay it back. Second,” he added, his voice rising on the second syllable as she opened her mouth, “it wasn’t meant as a loan.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“It does. If you look at every attempt to help you as a burden or an obligation…”
“You’ll stop?”
He shook his head. “I’ll try, if that helps.”
“Not really.” She clenched her jaw to stop more words from following. Severn was already stressed. They did not need to have this argument today, especially since it wasn’t likely to end before they were in earshot of the Imperial Palace guards. “Do you care if Bellusdeo’s hanging around?”
“Does it matter?”
“Probably not. If she’s in the Palace, she’s not likely to be bored. Really, really aggravated, but not bored.” She hesitated. “I’m sorry.”
He raised a brow and then shifted his gaze off her face. “Don’t be.”
The small dragon lifted his head, bumped the underside of Kaylin’s jaw, and then spread wings. Before she could stop him, he launched himself at Severn’s head. He did not, however, snap, claw, or bite; instead, he slid down the back of Severn’s neck, where he more or less fastened himself onto Severn’s shoulders.
Severn didn’t miss a step.
Kaylin stumbled. “He’s never done that before,” she finally said.
“Jealous?” His lips curved in a genuine smile; she was happy to see it, even if it was at her expense.
“Just surprised.” The little dragon swiveled his neck and regarded her with wide opal eyes. She wasn’t certain if he was annoyed, happy, or smug. “Maybe he can stay that way for a couple of months.”
Severn hesitated. “It probably won’t help you,” he finally said.
“Why?”
His smile deepened. “I don’t have permission to speak about it yet.” Because he was smiling, she took the opportunity to wheedle.
* * *
Dinner came half an hour after Kaylin had reached her rooms. Before dinner arrived, a message from the Arkon was delivered; Sanabalis was kind enough to deliver his own message before the dishes had been delivered to the dining table. Sadly, his message arrived in person, where it couldn’t be safely ignored.
“Corporal,” he said, nodding to Severn. “Private. May I enter?”
“I don’t mind,” Kaylin replied. “Bellusdeo might, but she’s apparently not here.”
“She is with Lord Emmerian at the moment. She spent the afternoon with Lord Diarmat.”
Kaylin winced in sympathy. “Are they both still standing?”
“They are. I will concede that Lord Diarmat does not, however, consider Bellusdeo charming.”
“Lord Diarmat doesn’t consider anyone charming.”
Sanabalis chuckled as he took a seat at the table. The chairs in the Palace, or at least in these rooms, were solid enough to take a Dragon’s weight. Given that Dragons ran the place, this made sense, although it probably made furnishing these rooms incredibly expensive.
“Lord Diarmat knows I’m being sent to the West March, right?”
“Have you informed him?” Sanabalis’s eyes were a lovely, lambent shade of gold, the bastard.
“No. Since the Halls of Law are sending me to the West March, I assumed the Imperial Court would be informed. Given especially the long reports of all my movements Lord Diarmat asked me to read.”
“Ah. I believe Lord Diarmat made clear the consequences of missed lessons?”
“He canceled
the last one without notice.”
“The obligation is not, of course, mutual.” The corners of his eyes were etched in lines Kaylin was certain were getting deeper by the second. “They are not my lessons, Private. You are not, at the moment, my aide. Given Lord Diarmat’s current disposition—”
“His constant disposition?”
“As you say. Given that, my intervention—with no pretext of the necessity of your presence in matters that concern the Imperial Court—is likely to cause you rather more difficulty than it alleviates.”
“I’d appreciate it anyway. I won’t have to see his face for two months, and I’m sure lessons with Bellusdeo will drive the minor irritation of me out of the picture in that time.”
“Immortal memory,” Sanabalis replied. “I believe he intends to reschedule the lesson before your departure.”
She was torn. She didn’t want to go to the West March. On the other hand, the silver lining to that coming cloud was the utter absence of Diarmat and his lessons. Bellusdeo had made the lessons bearable. She felt free to speak her mind and did so without hesitation. She could say things that Kaylin couldn’t even dream of saying. Kaylin, for her part, was wise enough to appreciate the Dragon’s words without adding any fuel to the fire that was Diarmat’s temper.
But regardless, Kaylin was still trapped for hours in a room that contained Lord Diarmat. “They’re going to send me.”
“Indeed. I believe Lord Diarmat wished to make his opinion clear—and permanent. Some concern about your absence has been raised in other quarters. The Emperor has considered the future costs of bargaining in bad faith with the particular informant involved. He will not, therefore, order you to remain.”
“Teela’s going.”
“So we have been informed.” Reaching up, he lifted a familiar heavy chain over his head; dangling at its end was a round golden pendant. “Wear this while you are in the West March.”
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