She had thought she’d had the whole of Lord Evarrim’s attention before; she’d been wrong. Just how wrong was evident when he drew as close as Teela would allow, his eyes now bright, sharp, hard as the edge of cut sapphire. Sometimes beauty could be prized and appreciated; sometimes it could be coveted. And sometimes it could only be feared.
But Kaylin Neya was a Hawk. She held her ground.
Her cheek didn’t even feel warm.
“Who are you?” he asked, the cadence of the Court dropping from the words as if they were a mask. What was left was simple death.
“Private Kaylin Neya, of the Hawks, under the command of Lord Grammayre, Lord of Hawks.” She chose formality behind which to hide, but hedged her bets; she answered in Barrani. That the words had the advantage of being true was just a bonus.
“I am pleased to make your acquaintance,” he said softly. It was Barrani-speak. She wondered if he was armed. “And is that all you are called?”
“It is.”
“I…see. The mark you bear, child, is of interest to me.”
So much for polite and Barrani. She slid into Elantran, and held that position. “One of the things I’m not called is a child.”
“By your reckoning, no.” His smile was slight. Sort of like the edge of a razor was slight. “Forgive my choice of words.”
Oh, she’d stepped into dangerous territory. Barker would be a welcome sight, about now—but the man was a stone coward, and there was no way he’d chance the floor this close to a Barrani Lord. Not when magic had just made an explosive statement.
Teela gave her a warning glance, and with a lot of effort, she swallowed her pride and forced herself to speak Barrani again. “There is nothing to forgive, Lord Evarrim.”
“I am pleased to hear you say so. Has your companion seen fit to discuss the significance of the mark you bear with you?”
Her companion?
“He means me,” Teela said, speaking the first Elantran she’d uttered since Lord Evarrim had approached.
If Lord Evarrim understood her, it didn’t show.
Kaylin stopped herself from shrugging, but it was a near thing. “It’s a mark,” she said, trying to keep her voice as flat as a Barrani’s, and failing utterly. “It was given to me to…aid in our investigations in the fief of Nightshade. Anyone who serves him there won’t hinder me. And no one who serves him will harm me.”
“Is that what she told you?”
She loathed high caste Barrani, and briefly toyed with the idea of telling him to ask Teela if he wanted to know what Teela had said. “No. That’s what Nightshade told me.”
“I see.” He seemed to draw closer, but it was a trick of the light; the hard, solid line of Teela’s favored beat weapon hadn’t moved an inch. “The last, at least, is truth—no one who serves the outcaste will harm you. But it is not proof against those who do not serve him.”
She did shrug, then. “I am capable of taking care of myself.”
“We shall see if that statement is true. It is almost certain to be tested.” He turned to Teela. “What was his purpose in marking her?”
“I was not there, Lord Evarrim. I did not see the mark given.”
“Ah, that was careless of me. Of course not. Has he formally acknowledged her?”
Teela said, quietly, “He is outcaste.” As if that was an answer.
“He is, but he has always been…what he is. And he has chosen to publicly claim an Erenne. Not even the castelord has done so in centuries.”
“It’s against the law,” Kaylin said, half-hopefully. It was what she’d been told, after all.
Lord Evarrim’s eyes darkened; they were almost a midnight blue. She’d never seen that before.
“Is she a fool?”
“She is mortal.”
“She is. But I sense that she is more. Must be more. Were she so limited, the mark would have consumed her when I touched it.” His gaze returned to Kaylin. “Have you consummated your relationship?”
Her brows rose. “Our what?”
“Human, indeed.” His smile was cool. “The caste do not speak with the outcaste. It is our law. You, however, are not beholden to our laws or customs. Tell Nightshade that Lord Evarrim reminds him that what he has not fully claimed, he cannot hope to hold long, if the interest of the castelord is involved.”
On a cold day in Hell, Kaylin thought. She’d gone past the not-liking-where-this-was-going part of the discussion and into the force-herself-not-to-speak-and-make-it-worse part.
“The castelord will be most interested in your observations, Anteela. We will speak again, you and I. The High Festival comes, and it is time, at last, that you took your place at Court.”
Kaylin glanced at Teela, surprised. Teela had always disavowed the Barrani High Courts, and Kaylin had just assumed it was because she wasn’t part of them. Seven years, she’d known the Hawk. Barrani really were good at keeping secrets.
“And you, Private Kaylin Neya. Perhaps we will see you there as well. It has been many years since a mortal attended our High Festival celebrations, and perhaps it would be…amusing.” He stepped back, then, and lifted his arm, exposing his palm. Across its flawless mound was a tattoo. A black tower.
He was an Arcanist.
“Marcus is going to have a fit,” Kaylin said, when the Merchant Consortium was a hundred yards behind their quickly retreating backs. “He sent us to talk to Barker. We didn’t.”
Teela, silent up until that point, and utterly graceful in the stiff, regal way of her kind, stopped walking. She closed her eyes, took a deep—and obvious—breath, and then shook her head. Hair cascaded down her shoulders as Kaylin watched.
“Do you have any idea who he was?” the Barrani Hawk demanded of Kaylin, when her shoulders had receded into their more familiar height, and her language, into Elantran.
“Lord Evarrim?”
“Very funny, Kaylin.”
“If it is, you’re not laughing much.”
“Short of walking into the audience hall of the Barrani castelord, we couldn’t have announced your presence in a worse way.”
“We didn’t exactly announce—”
She turned and pointed at Kaylin’s cheek—but she was careful not to touch it.
“Oh. Right. Sorry.”
“What in the hells was Evarrim doing at the Consortium?”
“Trading. I hear that even the Barrani high caste will lower themselves to do that from time to time. First time I’ve seen it, though.”
“I’ve told you before, you’re entirely too trusting.”
“Uh, Teela—there isn’t anything else to do at the Merchant Consortium, unless you’re a merchant. And I can’t think of a high caste Barrani who wouldn’t have both his legs chopped off first.”
“Can you think of any high caste Barrani at all?”
Kaylin shrugged. “There was Lord Navalos. You know, the Barrani who was involved in that magical—”
“Thank you.”
“Oh. Rhetorical, right?”
“Good guess.”
“Does the fact that he’s an Arcanist make it worse?”
“Oddly enough, no. It doesn’t make it any better, but it doesn’t make it worse.” Teela’s eyes narrowed. “What exactly have you been told about the Arcanists?”
“They’re mages. Sort of. But more arrogant, more secretive and a lot less friendly.” Kaylin’s knowledge of magic stretched as far as the Hawks. And the Hawks and the Arcanists didn’t have what could be called a working relationship. Or any relationship, which was good, given that the only other alternative was an investigation involving the Arcanum.
“Spoken like Kaylin,” Teela said. “They’re an order of mages that is not beholden to the Dragon Emperor. They’re about as powerful as the Merchant’s Spice Guild.”
Kaylin whistled. “I don’t remember Arcanists trying to destroy the city or assassinate the Emperor, though.”
“You’re not old enough.” She straightened her shoulders. “Marcus will
forgive us the lack of Barker. We’ll just tell him that we’re waiting until close enough to the festival that we can pick up his forgeries and charge him. We made a lot of money off him one year in fines, if I recall correctly.”
“Yeah. And we didn’t get to keep any of it, either.”
“Marcus bought us drinks.”
Kaylin snorted. “And I was sick as a dog the next day, and put on report because of it. I lost two days pay. Some reward.”
Teela laughed. Kaylin felt her shoulders relax at the sound. Not that Barrani laughter was without its barbs, but at least it was normal.
“Teela?”
“What?”
“What’s an Erenne?”
“Never mind.”
Teela didn’t go directly back to the offices the Hawks occupied, however. Or rather, she didn’t go straight to Marcus. Instead, she strode over to a closed door, placed her palm on the plaque in its center and said, “Open the damn door. We need to talk.”
It was Tain’s door.
“Why’s he in the office?”
“He lost at gambling, and he has to fill out our reports.”
Great. He hated reports as much as the next Hawk. “Where were you gambling?”
Teela shook her head. “Let me do the talking,” she said, as the door swung open.
“You want me to wait outside?”
“No. He’s going to know sooner or later.” She stuck her head into the office, and reappeared. “On second thought, good idea.” She stepped inside and closed the door behind her.
The offices were supposed to be soundproof. So it wasn’t a good sign when Kaylin heard a muffled exclamation. She couldn’t make out the word, but she didn’t really need to; the tone of voice, given that it was a Barrani speaking, said enough.
She tried to stop her shoulders from curving inward as she waited what seemed an hour.
The door opened, slammed into the wall it was theoretically part of, and swung almost shut again. Almost, because Tain was in the frame. He stared at her face, and only at her face. Then he uttered a string of Leontine curses. Leontine was the favored language for office cursing. But coming from the throat of a Barrani, it lost its growl; it sounded too smooth. Too kittenish. Not something she was about to tell Tain.
He turned to look back into the office. “And when exactly were you planning on telling me this?”
“You’ve got eyes,” she heard Teela say, in her lazy drawl. “I figured you’d notice sooner or later.”
“Don’t just stand there,” Tain added, glaring at Kaylin. “Come in. This isn’t something we want bandied about the office as gossip.”
Good luck, she thought. But given his demeanor, she slid into the office and let him slam the door shut. Which he did.
“Kaylin, when did this happen?”
She shrugged. “A couple of days ago.”
He exchanged a glance with Teela; Teela raised a brow.
“The Hawklord sent me into the fiefs. I can’t talk about—”
“It’s the sacrifices, right?”
“I can’t talk about it,” she continued, through clenched teeth. “Not to anyone, unless the Hawklord is present. I’m bound.”
Tain cursed the Hawklord’s flight feathers. Kaylin was actually shocked.
“And you met Nightshade.”
She nodded.
“Why did you—”
“She didn’t,” Teela said quietly.
“He couldn’t mark her without—”
“She’s a human, Tain.”
He stopped talking for about a minute.
“Has a human borne a mark like this before? I thought you said—” Kaylin looked at Teela, who was notably silent. She hadn’t been telling the truth. What a surprise.
“Humans have been marked by Lords before, before the Emperor forbid it,” Tain told her coldly. “But not with that kind of a mark.” He looked at her as if she’d lost half her mind. “It’s his mark. It’s not just an ownership sigil, it’s not just a binding mark, it’s clearly,” he added, with a slight trace of disgust, “not an enslavement. Exactly. Teela—”
“I thought it was safer if she knew less. She has a human temper.” She paused, and then added, “And she’s never been called to the Barrani High Courts. What were the odds?”
He opened his mouth, and closed it again slowly. “You’re probably right.” Given that this was as much expression as he ever showed, Kaylin was unsettled. And annoyed.
“If I know more, I can—”
“Can what?” The words were very, very cold. She had a suspicion they would drop below freezing if she mentioned Nightshade, and shut up.
She didn’t have a chance to vent, and probably just as well; Teela and Tain were almost as good as human in most ways, but they could hold a long damn grudge, and over the smallest things.
“You met Lord Evarrim?”
“In the Merchant Consortium.”
“What the hell was he doing there?”
Kaylin threw Teela a look, and Teela shrugged. “I’ve had this conversation already,” she added. “I don’t know why he was there.”
“Did he already know about the mark?” Tain had calmed down. Not in the way that normal people did; his calm descended without warning, sort of like a summer storm.
“I would say it wasn’t possible,” Teela said, choosing her words with care.
“Tiamaris—”
“Tiamaris wouldn’t tell him anything.” Kaylin was surprised to hear herself saying the words. But she believed them. “Dragon honor,” she added. “He’s not allowed to discuss things that happen in our Tower outside of our Tower, and Marcus believes he won’t.”
“And you didn’t talk to anyone else about it?”
She shook her head.
“Didn’t see any of the Barrani besides Teela?”
“No.” She frowned. “Imperial mages were in the examination room yesterday.”
Tain’s eyes narrowed. “Which mages, Kaylin? Think carefully before you answer.”
“Callantine.”
“And?”
“Three of his cronies. And no, before you ask, I don’t know their names.”
“Can we dredge it out of Records?”
“Not without setting off eighteen different mage alarms,” Teela told him.
“Can we get permission to dredge it out of Records?”
“Not on this case,” his partner replied quietly. “If Grammayre bound her, he’s serious.”
“He couldn’t bind the mages.”
“The mages probably have their own reasons for keeping things quiet,” Teela told him. But she didn’t disagree.
“Then he could have known.”
Teela’s frown was thoughtful. “He could have known that she was marked, yes. But he wouldn’t have known that we were going to the Merchant Consortium. The duty roster’s not exactly public knowledge.”
“He’s an Arcanist.”
That term again. “Are they like oracles, but real?” Kaylin asked.
They both looked at her as if she were an idiot. Given that, she decided asking questions couldn’t make things any worse. “Tain, what does this mark mean? Why did he ask Teela if I’d been acknowledged?”
“That’s not quite what he asked,” Teela said quietly.
Kaylin colored slightly. “Yes, but I understood the other question.”
“What would that be?”
“The one,” Teela said, knowing Kaylin wouldn’t repeat it, “about consummation.”
She had thought Tain couldn’t look more annoyed; she was wrong. His expression didn’t change, but his color did; he lost most of it. Given how the Barrani tended toward the pale, it was noticeable.
“Don’t look at me,” Teela told Tain. “I made it clear to the Hawklord that sending her off with two fledglings was a damn bad idea. Even if one’s a former Shadow Wolf, and one’s a Dragon.”
“It should have been safe enough,” Tain replied. “She’s human. It’s not as if she’s…”
He raised a hand to his brow. “Kaylin, does Lord Nightshade know about your powers?”
She started to say no.
“Kaylin?”
“I—I don’t know.”
“What do you mean, you don’t know? Did you tell him?”
“No!”
“Did you use any of them in his presence?”
“No.”
“Then—”
“He saw the marks,” she said at last. She hated to mention them; it made her arms itch.
“Don’t scratch,” Teela told her, batting her hand away.
“But—but I didn’t use power. It’s just…” She couldn’t bring herself to mention the seal. “Someone else may have told him. Years ago. He wouldn’t have known it was me.”
“But he did.” Damn Barrani observation, anyway. “This is…”
“Bad?”
“Worse than bad,” he said quietly. “But at the moment, Lady willing, it’s not quite your problem. He’s outcaste. It may not mean as much—” He paused, and his eyes narrowed. She hated the color blue. “His name?”
Teela’s brows rose when Kaylin failed to answer. And fell again, dark, thin lines. “His name,” she whispered, shaking her head. “No wonder.”
“What? What’s no wonder?”
Tain looked at her for a moment. “It’s the mark,” he said at last, “of a consort. And he would not have made that mark if he thought he could control you with a lesser one.”
While she was gaping, they continued to speak.
Teela turned to Tain. “Lord Evarrim tried to touch the mark. It made quite a light show in the Consortium. I should have guessed, then. But I was trying to make sure our mascot got out alive.”
Kaylin bristled slightly. She hadn’t been called the company mascot since her fifteenth birthday—at least not since she’d upended the pitcher of beer over Tanner’s head.
“You didn’t see Evarrim,” Teela added, dropping the honorific as if it were garbage. “What Nightshade wants has to be of interest.”
“Why is Nightshade outcaste, anyway?”
They both fell utterly silent.
“Go deal with Marcus, Kaylin. Tain and I have a lot to discuss.”
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