Cast In Fury (14 page)

Severn took a blow to the ribs, and managed to avoid a second one—how, she wasn’t certain. He caught the gray Leontine in the knee, kicked him in the chest as he faltered. In all this, he said nothing, and they said nothing; the only noise was impact.

Six minutes, she thought. Too long.

And then someone
did
roar, and she turned in an instant at the sound of the voice, the hair on the back of her neck rising.

The two Leontines froze almost instantly, and Severn himself took a single step back before he put up his hands.

From the arena floor, from a chair nestled within the cages, a white-furred Leontine strode out toward them.

He glanced at the two guards and nodded. Then he turned his gaze on Severn, and his eyes were the most remarkable color for a Leontine—they were blue. Kaylin had never seen blue Leontine eyes before, and she wondered what they meant.

Humans were the only race whose eyes did not reflect their moods. They had words for that, and their skin tones changed, but the eyes only shifted color when the light shifted in strength or focus.

As he approached them, the two Leontines lifted their chins, exposing their throats slightly. It was, Kaylin thought, a gesture of respect, but not of subservience. The white Leontine nodded and they fell back. He approached Severn.

Severn stood his ground.

“You are armed,” the Leontine said, his Elantran distinctly more growly than Marcus’s. “But you did not draw weapons.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I was introducing myself, no more.”

The large Leontine hissed—amused, Kaylin thought. “You understand some of our ways, human.”

Severn said quietly, “I served the Emperor as a Wolf for many years, before I donned the Hawk.”

The blue eyes narrowed. “You have been given no leave to hunt here.”

“No leave is required to hunt in the Empire. The Wolves operate under the jurisdiction of Imperial Writ.”

“And if I say permission is required here?”

“You will say it when the skies darken and the Emperor lands,” Severn replied.

Again the hiss, and again Kaylin thought it a chuckle. The face fur that surrounded those shocking blue eyes was flat.

“It is said there are no fools called upon to hunt in the Empire,” the Leontine replied. “I have yet to see an exception to this rule. I am Adar.”

“I am Severn.”

“And your rank?”

“Corporal. Which you recognize.”

A third chuckle. “Indeed. It is a good introduction. You lasted far longer than the previous human who came to Court.”

“He was not a Wolf.”

“No. He was not a man.” He shrugged, and turned his gaze upon Kaylin. “And you, you also bear the Hawk.”

“Private Neya,” she said stiffly.

“Adar,” he replied, “of the Claw.”

She knew Severn well enough to notice the very slight tightening of his expression, but she couldn’t quite tell what had caused it. He said nothing else.

“You are the denwarden, here?”

“I am. There is no other.”

“And you are, by Imperial Law, the castelord?” Kaylin knew Severn asked the last question for her benefit.

Adar nodded quietly. “I am that, in Elantran.”

“I have come to speak with Marcus.”

The Leontine nodded. “If he will speak with you, you have earned that right. But if you are familiar with some of our ways, you are not familiar with all of them—you brought your female with you.”

“She is not mine,” he replied. “She is a Hawk, in her own right, as you no doubt noticed.”

“The Hawks are Marcus’s dominion in the city.”

“They are.”

“And you both serve Marcus.”

“We serve the Empire, as Marcus is also sworn to do,” Severn told Adar.

“Very well. Follow.”

The cage was about two inches taller than Marcus at full height, if that. Kaylin knew this because he was, in fact, standing as they approached, his arms folded across his bare chest, his equally bare legs planted slightly apart. His eyes were gold tinged with orange, and his golden fur was flat and dull. He looked exhausted.

“Marcus Kassan,” Adar said quietly, “these two have come to speak with you. Will you allow it?”

“I will.”

“I will leave you, then, to discuss whatever matters you wish to discuss. I will not lock the cage behind your visitors.”

Marcus nodded, as if this were perfectly natural. He waited until the white Leontine had retreated, and then stood there, looking at Kaylin and Severn, his fingers flexing.

“I spoke with Kayala before I came,” Kaylin told him.

“I see.”

“Marcus—what happened?”

“I met a friend outside of the Quarter at his request. The request was privately keyed,” he added, “and arrived at my office before lunch yesterday.”

“He died.”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“I killed him.”

Right up until that moment, Kaylin had been hoping that he would proclaim his innocence. That he would tell her it had all been a mistake. That he would tell her he’d been anywhere else in the city. Disappointment and shock kept her quiet for another minute before she rallied.

“Marcus—why? What did he do?”

At that, the Leontine seemed to deflate. “Kaylin—”

“No, don’t Kaylin me. Mallory is in charge of the office. He’s the acting sergeant while you’re away. And damn it, you’d better be coming back.”

“Kitling, it has nothing to do with you. Or with the Hawks. It is a private affair.”

“I know about Sarabe’s sister.”

He was silent for a moment. “You would,” he said at last, and heavily. “Her sister called you.”

“Yes.”

“Kaylin, if I ask, as a favor, that you leave this alone, will it do any good at all?”

“No.” She paused. “Maybe. If I understood why—” She paused again. “It’s the child, isn’t it? Your nephew?”

He turned his head away, but not before she could see the change in the color of his eyes. Gold was tinged with something that might be blue on fire.

“Sergeant Kassan.” Severn spoke for the first time, his hands at his sides.

“I am not your Sergeant.”

“As you wish. Kaylin is present,” he added, “and she dislikes the rules of authority if they deprive her of her family.”

Kaylin had no argument to offer; it was true. He was the only Sergeant the Hawks had, and the only one they wanted.

“For Kaylin’s sake, then,” Marcus said, his voice on the edge of a wild growl. “Take her out of the Quarter. Keep her out of the Quarter.”

Severn lifted a brow. “I could only make the attempt once, and if I succeeded, she would return to the Quarter without me.”

The growl deepened, and Kaylin saw claws flexing in their furbeds. She’d seen them before, but there was no desk on which to dull their edge. She wanted to be careful on a bone-deep, visceral level. “Kaylin doesn’t understand the tribe,” Marcus told Severn. “And that is my fault and my failing. I saw, in her, an orphan cub. Not a boy, not a girl—a human. I wanted to give her some sense of family, of the Pridlea that she had never had.”

“She wanted that,” Severn said quietly. “But like all humans, she isn’t good at letting go.”

“No,” Marcus said. “She is not, at that. You have some experience with it.”

“I do.”

Marcus growled and straightened out to his full height; the cage hit the fur on his head, flattening it. “How did your first day at the Imperial Palace go?” he asked Kaylin.

“It was interesting.”

“Ah. And interesting means?”

“We’re babysitting an Imperial Playwright so he can fabricate a story that will make humans in Elantra feel safe around the Tha’alani.”

Marcus nodded. “A worthy endeavor.”

“The man is an ass.”

“Agreed.”

“And he—wait, what do you mean agreed?”

“I had the privilege of making his acquaintance.”

“And you sent me there
anyway?
”

“He doesn’t appear to love rules, and he appears to have survived this dislike intact. I felt you would be safe there. I don’t think it’s possible to offend him.”

“Wrong.”

“I don’t think it’s possible to offend him and be thrown in jail—or worse—for the offense.”

“Oh.”

“However he seems to have offended you—and he is likewise not in jail. What happened?”

She hesitated.

“Kaylin.
Private.
”

“We took him to the Tha’alani Quarter.”

Surprise and shock were difficult to distinguish when plastered across Leontine facial fur. “You took Richard Rennick to the
Tha’alani Quarter?
”

“He’d written this pile of crap, Marcus. It was just…crap. Everything about it was wrong. We thought it would be better if he could see the Tha’alani for himself. If he could talk to them. And Ybelline sent a message to Sanabalis—Lord Sanabalis,” she added, seeing the slightly orange tinge to his golden eyes. “She wanted to see me.”

“You took a man that makes
you
look tactful to the Tha’alani Quarter.”

Put like that, it didn’t seem like such a good idea. “More or less.”

“And there were no riots.”

“Actually, there were.”

Marcus covered his eyes with one of his hands. The other was strangling the air around his body. “Do continue.”

“But they happened before we arrived. Honest.”

The hand fell slowly.

“The Swords were there in force. I think they pulled out more people than they do for Festival Season. They were standing between the Tha’alani Quarter and the civilians who just happened to have found crossbows and other pointy weapons.”

“Casualties?”

“Four Tha’alani were injured. I don’t think any of the humans were hurt, more’s the pity.”

“The injuries?”

She hesitated.

“They were not life-threatening,” Severn interjected.

The Leontine sighed and his hand stopped twisting in the air. “The city is balanced on a thin edge,” he said. “The work that Rennick is undertaking is considered necessary. For humans—who comprise most of the Elantran population.”

“I know,” Kaylin replied. “Rennick did talk with the Tha’alani, and with Ybelline. It started out badly, got worse, and then got better. I’m not sure how the last part worked, so don’t ask.”

“Good. If that’s all?”

She knew a dismissal when she heard it, but before she could automatically retreat, she said, “Marcus, that’s
not
why we came. You are going to have to answer at least a couple of questions or Kayala will rip out my throat.”

At that, he did smile. It was a toothy grin, but all Leontine grins were and, as far as it went, it was genuine.

“Why did you kill your friend?”

“He was trying to kill me,” the Leontine replied.

“Did you happen to
mention
any of this to the guy outside?”

“Which one?”

“The white one.”

“No.”

“Marcus—why?”

“The man I killed—to use the Elantran word—was a friend. The son of my father’s closest friend. We were not raised in the same Pridlea, of course, but we might as well have been. I trusted him,” he added. “And if it came down to it, I would still trust him.”

“You just said he tried to kill you.”

“Yes.”

“And you were expecting that?”

“No. Had I known, I’m not sure what I would have done.”

“Stayed away?”

His eyes were golden, but the gold was pale and tired. “No, Kaylin, I don’t think I could have stayed away. But the only possible help I could have taken with me was you.”

“What?”

“It would have been a long shot,” he replied. “But there is literally no one else I would give this information to outside of the Quarter.”

“What could I have done?”

“Kaylin—
I don’t know.
”

“Then why me?”

Severn said, quietly, “You think magery was involved somehow.”

“You really were a Wolf, boy,” Marcus replied. “But you see keenly. I’m glad I took you on—you were wasted on the Wolves. Yes, I think some sort of magery was involved.”

“Marcus—why won’t you take this to the Imperial Courts? Why won’t you come to the Hawks?”

“Because it doesn’t concern them,” he replied. “My friend was clearly not himself.”

“Then
tell them that.
Tell them that you killed in self-defense.”

“Against what?”

“Against someone who was enspelled against his will.”

“Kaylin—”

“They’re going to put you on trial in the Quarter in five days.”

“Yes.”

“And you’re going to let them.”

“Kaylin, there is more to this than you understand.”

“Then explain it.
Explain it.
Make me understand. You don’t know who your enemy was? An Imperial Mage could probably tell you if he looked at the corpse for, oh, half a second. I’ve never heard of magic that works quite like this—but if it can make someone do something they’d never do otherwise, it’s probably pretty damn powerful. Mages leave a signature.”

“And I thought you failed magical theory.”

“I did. It came up later.”

He shook his head. “Your teachers would strangle you slowly if they heard you now.”

“And I’d let them, Marcus. I’d let them if they could answer the questions you won’t answer. I don’t think they’re going to find you innocent,” she said.

“No.”

“But you’re not guilty of murder.”

He said nothing for a while.

She took a step toward him and ran into Severn’s arm, which was raised so quickly she didn’t have time to stop gracefully. Or at all, really.

“Marcus,” he said, “who is Adar?”

“Adar? He is the judge, the jury, and possibly the executioner. You would call him the castelord,” Marcus replied.

“Yes. But how was he chosen to be castelord?” Someone else couldn’t have asked that question in Severn’s neutral tone. At least not if that someone was Kaylin. But Severn asked it as if it were the most reasonable question in the world, and concerned something as trivial as the weather at the same time. She was going to have to learn that.

Later.

“He is the son of the son, descended in an unbroken line, from the father of our tribe.”

“The father of your tribe? The first Leontine?”