Cast In Courtlight (8 page)

This, Lord Evarrim did notice.

“I hope the Festival season is uneventful,” Lord Evarrim continued after a minute pause. “And I hope it finds you in good health.”

“And you, Lord Evarrim.”

“You are, I believe, new to the ranks of the Hawks,” the Barrani Lord said.

He looked bored, but his eyes were a clear green – a dark green that held hints of blue.

Severn nodded.

“But the private is not.
Private
Neya.” Blue
now
, definitely blue. What the Barrani could keep from their faces, they couldn’t keep from their eyes; like Dragons, like Aerians, like Leontines, the color of their eyes told a story. In this case, it was a chilly one.

“Lord Evarrim,” she said, striving to match Severn’s tone.

“I believe you keep company with a member of the High Court.”

“I keep the company of Hawks,” Kaylin said carefully.
Not that it’s any of your business.

“Good. See that you continue to do so.” Blue was not Kaylin’s favorite color.

He lifted a hand and Severn took a step forward. Four Barrani guards did likewise; the street, where they were standing, became a lot more crowded.

“I wouldn’t, if I were you,” Kaylin said softly.

Severn stepped on her foot.

Lord Evarrim’s smile did not reach his eyes, but his eyes darkened. “The mark is no protection here, little one. Remember that. No Barrani Lord is required to heed the mark of an outcaste.”

“And no outcaste,” Severn replied before she could speak, “is required to heed the law of the Dragon Emperor.”

There was a silence; it followed and engulfed the Hawk’s words.

“We will speak later,” Lord Evarrim said at last. “After the Festival.” He turned and walked away, and red swirled around his feet like blood.

They picked up the pace. “What was that about?” Severn asked her when he was certain the Barrani Lord had passed beyond hearing.

Kaylin, less certain, took her time answering. “I think it was a… threat.”

“Got that,” Severn said. “Why?”

She shrugged. Any answer that made sense wasn’t one she liked. She wondered what Teela was doing. It was better than wondering what was being done
to
her.

But at least she no longer felt tired.

The guards at the front doors were Swords. She recognized them, but she didn’t stop to talk; they were slightly officious men and she was clearly underdressed.

She passed beneath the vaulted ceilings of the Aerie; it was almost empty. One lone Aerian flew across the cavernous space, his gray wings unfolding beneath colored glass. Severn tapped her shoulder gently, and she remembered that she was late.

She made it to the doors, and through them, at her usual speed – a dead run, with a small pause between two Hawks that she
did
know. They were almost smirking.

“Tanner,” she said to the taller of the two, both humans, “how much trouble am I in?”

He laughed. “It depends.”

“On what?”

“On how much Iron Jaw fancies entertaining an Imperial mage. For an hour.”

She cringed.

Iron Jaw, as Marcus was affectionately called – depending on your definition of affectionate – was indeed speaking with a man who wore the robes of the Imperial Magi. They were gray with blue edges, a hood, and an unseemly amount of gold embroidery that faded under dim light.

The fact that the mage wasn’t shouting was a hopeful sign; the fact that Marcus wasn’t puffed out like an angry cat was better. His arms were folded in front of his chest, and he’d chosen to abandon his chair, but that might have been because the paperwork would have hidden him otherwise.

She could hope.

Severn peeled off just before she reached the office, and she didn’t have time to either thank or curse him, which was just as well. She had enough time to try to straighten her tunic as the office staff turned to look at her. Well, most of the office staff. Some of them were too busy to notice anything that didn’t involve a lot of screaming, fire, or blood.

Marcus was, of course, aware of her; he’d probably been aware of her presence before she’d laid eyes on him. Leontines had good hearing and an exceptional sense of smell. But he was being Polite Leontine today.

Which was scary.

She made her way to his desk, and stood there, to one side of the back of an Imperial mage.

“Private,” Marcus said in a rolling growl.

Okay, so it wasn’t all good.

“Sergeant Kassan,” she replied. She didn’t snap a salute, but she did straighten up. It added an inch or two to her unimpressive height.

“Good of you to join us. In your absence, I’ve been explaining some of your unfortunate nocturnal habits to our guest.”

The emphasis on the last word was like a warning, but with fangs and fur.

The Imperial mage turned; he was slightly bent, as if age was a burden, and his hair was a fringe of pale white. But his eyes – his eyes were a golden hue, and his smile was a quirk of lips over pale teeth.

She recognized the man. “You – but you’re a – you aren’t a – you – ”

“Kaylin is not usually lauded for her ability to give impromptu speeches,” Marcus said dryly. “I believe you’ve met Lord Sanabalis?”

They were sequestered in the West Room. Marcus led them there, opened the door, and held it while Sanabalis walked past him. Kaylin hesitated for just a moment, and then she made her way toward the room’s round table.

“Do
not
annoy this man,” Marcus said in her ear.

She nodded automatically. Of course, had he told her to stand on her head with her fingers in her ears in that same tone of voice, she would have nodded, as well.

But in this case, the desire to cause annoyance was vanishingly small; Sanabalis was a member of the Dragon Court. She’d seen him only once, and once had been enough.

He waited for her to take a seat.

She waited for him to do likewise.

After a moment, the older man – if that was even the right word – shook his head; his eyes were still gold, which was a good sign. In Dragons.

“Please,” he said, “sit.” She obeyed, and almost missed the chair.

He chose, tactfully, not to notice this error, and once she’d managed to stay seated, he took a seat. The table between them felt brittle and thin, although a man with an ax would have had some difficulty splitting it. A large man with a large ax; the table in the West Room had been built to last.

“Yes,” he said before she could think of something to say, “I
am
a member of the Imperial Order of Mages. I am, as you are also aware, a member of the Dragon Court, and I confess I am seldom called away from that court.” His smile was genial, even avuncular. She didn’t trust it.

But she wanted to.

He reached into the folds of his robes; you could have hidden whole bodies in it. And bodies might have been preferable to paper, which was what he pulled out. It hit the table with an authoritative thud.

“You will, of course, be familiar with much of what these documents contain. These,” he added, lifting a half inch’s worth, “are your academic transcripts. With annotations.”

“You’re not supposed to have those – even I don’t have access to – ”

“As a man who is considering accepting you as a pupil, I have, of course, obtained permission to access these.”

“Oh.” She hesitated and then added, “What do they say?”

“You tell me.”

This wasn’t going the way the previous lessons had. So far, he’d failed to make mention of her “unfortunate beginnings.” Which meant he’d also failed to offend her.

“I’m waiting, Kaylin.”

“Probably… that I’m not very good at classroom work. Academic work, I think they call it.”

He raised a brow. “That was a very short sentence for this much writing.”

“They’re clever, they can say the same thing over and over without using the same word twice.”

At that, he did smile.

Oh, what the hell. “I’m not fond of authority.”

“Good.”

“I’m not fond of sitting still.”

“True, as well.”

“I get bored easily.”

“I believe the phrase was ‘dangerous levels of boredom.’”

“I’m not great with numbers.”

“You manage an argument over your pay chit at least once a month.”

“Oh, well, money’s different.” She frowned. “They said
that?
”

“No. That was private investigation on my part.”

“I’m a bit brusque.”

“Actively rude.’”

“I’m blunt.”

“‘Arrogant and misinformed.’”

“I’m a bit on the, um, assertive side.”

“I think the previous statement covered that, as well.” He put the papers down. “The rest?”

“Variations?”

“Not precisely.” He leaned forward on elbows he placed, with care, to either side of the documents in question. “You are, according to the teachers who failed you, frustratingly bright. One even used the word
precocious
. But you have no focus, no ability to pay attention to anything that doesn’t suit you. Would you say that’s fair?”

“No.”

“What would you say, Kaylin?”

“I want to be
out there
. I want to be
on the beat
. I want to be
doing something
. I didn’t sign up with the Hawks to sit still while other people risk their lives – ”

He lifted a hand. “I believe that this was also covered. And quoted. At length. Don’t feel a need to revisit it on my behalf. You did manage to learn to read. And to write. In two languages.”

“I had to,” she said woodenly. “The Hawklord – ”

He raised a white brow.

“Lord Grammayre,” she said, correcting herself, “said I was
out
if I couldn’t manage that. Because the Laws are written in Barrani – High Barrani – and if I didn’t know them, I couldn’t enforce them.”

“‘Represent them’ were the words he used, I believe. You learned to use weapons.”

She nodded.

“And you were skilled at unarmed combat.”

She nodded again. “Those were useful.”

“History does have its uses.”

“To dead people,” she said sullenly.

“Living people define themselves by their dead.”

She said nothing.

“You almost passed comparative religion. You paid very little attention to Racial classes.”

More nothing.

“Very well. Your teachers – Hawks, all – were of a mind to allow you to stretch your wings on the streets. I believe they thought it would knock sense into you.”

“You didn’t come here to discuss my academic record.”

“Actually, Kaylin, I did. I assure you I seldom discuss things that are not of interest to me. That would be called politics,” he added. “And I see that you – ”

“Failed that, yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not going anywhere
political
. If you’ve read the records you
know
I’m a fiefling. I grew up there. I lived there. I probably broke a hundred laws without knowing I was doing anything illegal.” She had folded her arms across her chest, and she now tightened them. “I was born to the streets. I
know
them.”

“The streets of Elantra are
not
the streets of Nightshade. I’m certain your other teachers were willing to accept this rant at face value. Do better with me, Kaylin. I’m old enough to value my time.”

She stood up and started to pace.

“Don’t cling to your ignorance.”

“I’m not.”

“Don’t hide behind it, either.”

“I’m
not
hiding. Yes, the
rest
of Elantra is different. But people with power are the same everywhere – here they just have to be more clever about breaking the law. I’m not good with people who are above the law.”

“Or beneath it?”

“No, I understand
them
.”

“You’ve been willing to learn many things,” he continued, failing to notice that she’d left her seat. “You spent four weeks – without pay – at the midwives guild.”

She stopped moving.

“I told you, I do my homework. You also, I believe, spend time at the foundling halls – ”

“Leave the foundling halls out of this.”

” – teaching the orphans. To
read
. To
write
. You could barely stand to do this yourself, and I cannot think that this is an overt display of aggression. How, then, do you explain it?”

“I don’t.”

He nodded, as if the answer wasn’t surprising. “Very well. Let us change the course of this discussion somewhat.”

“Let’s not.”

He raised a brow over golden eyes. So far, she’d failed to annoy him; there wasn’t even a
hint
of orange in them.

“I am aware that teaching or learning are not the only things you do, at either the midwives guild or the foundling halls.” He raised a hand. “I
am
advisor to the Emperor, Kaylin. I am aware of the power you do possess. Sadly, so are the rest of the Hawks. Secrecy is not a skill you’ve learned.”

“Emergencies don’t lend themselves to secrecy.”

“True. Power does. Do you understand that you
have
power?”

She hesitated; the ground beneath her feet was shifting, and in ways that she didn’t like. She thought better of her need to leave the confinement of the damn chair, and sat again, hard.

“Yes,” he said softly, the tone of his voice changing. “I know what you bear on your arms and legs. I’ve seen the records. I’ve even examined them. I know that you’ve healed the dying, on many occasions. But I also know – ”

She held up a hand, palm out, and turned away.

He was a Dragon, through and through. “I also know that you’ve used that power to kill. To kill quickly, yes, but also to kill slowly and painfully. I understand that the Imperial Order of Mages can at times be insular. I understand that their insularity feels like condescension. I will not even argue that it is anything else, in your case.

“But you are playing games with something that you don’t understand.”

“You don’t understand it either.”

“No,” he said without pause. “And it is because it is not understood that it is feared. You’ve treated this as a game, Kaylin Neya. The time for games has passed.” His eyes were still gold, but his lower lids rose, lending opacity to the clarity of color.