Michelle Sagara – Cast in Flame (страница 13)

It was free accommodation, yes. But in every way except money, it was costly. She would have jumped for joy at the chance to stand in the Palace’s shadow, as a child. She was a working, responsible adult, now.

Squawk.

Okay, a working, more-or-less responsible adult. Her job was the enforcement of the Emperor’s Law; she didn’t want home to essentially belong to that job. At the moment, it did.

“We’re almost at the first place,” Kaylin told the occupants of the carriage.

Bellusdeo had lived in Kaylin’s old place, and didn’t so much as raise a golden eyebrow. Emmerian hadn’t, and raised a blue-black one as the carriage clopped to a smooth stop.

“You don’t think the Emperor is going to like the place,” Kaylin said, as a footman opened the carriage door and deposited a fancy stool before it.

Bellusdeo snorted as Kaylin stepped down. Emmerian followed Kaylin, and scanned the street before he nodded to a visibly impatient Bellusdeo. She disembarked last, by unspoken mutual consent.

“I am certain,” the Dragon Lord finally said, “that he won’t.” He approached the doors to the four story building and frowned. “Is it possible that there’s no door ward here?”

“It’s not only possible,” Bellusdeo replied, before Kaylin could. “But extremely likely. Our Kaylin doesn’t care for door wards.”

“‘Our’ is it?” Emmerian examined the door without touching it. He did not, however, use magic to do so—or at least not magic that made Kaylin’s skin break out. “Private Neya, are the interior doors likewise without wards?”

“Which part of ‘Kaylin doesn’t care for door wards’ was unclear?”

Emmerian stiffened. Bellusdeo had drawn herself up to her full height, and her eyes were now tinted orange. Emmerian’s were likewise shading to bronze. The small dragon lifted his head and surveyed the situation—while yawning. His teeth were solid ivory, although the rest of his mouth suggested the same translucence as his body.

Both Dragons immediately turned toward him. He squawked. Given Bellusdeo’s expression, Kaylin wasn’t surprised she didn’t squawk back. Contrary to Diarmat’s constant criticism, Bellusdeo did have some sense of personal dignity; squawking at a winged lizard in the city streets was beneath it.

Emmerian was likewise silent, although he now looked mildly surprised. Kaylin, aware that she was the pedestal on which the interesting person was standing, nonetheless ducked between them and opened the door. The hall, at least on this floor, was lit; steep stairs the width of one person climbed up on the left of the door. The landlord’s office—which was a fancy word, in Kaylin’s opinion, for apartment—was down the hall to the right.

She was surprised at how nervous she felt. She couldn’t remember feeling nervous when she’d gone apartment hunting with Caitlin the first time. Suspicious, yes. Bewildered. Not nervous. She mentally kicked herself.

What was the worst thing that could happen here? Besides Bellusdeo descending into full-bellow Dragon fury. The apartment could be terrible. The landlord might want too much for extras he hadn’t bothered to mention to Caitlin. Bellusdeo might actually hate the place. None of these things was deadly; some might be minor humiliations, but Kaylin expected that from life.

She straightened both shoulders and knocked on the closed, residential door marked as an office. The floors on the other side of the door creaked. So did the floors on this side, but more ominously; Dragons were dense, and two of them were occupying pretty much the same square yard of flooring. The building was in decent repair, given Kaylin’s admittedly slight experience; it was by no means new or modern.

The door opened on a man of middling age and similar height; he suited his building. “Can I help you?” he asked, in a tone of voice that implied he meant the answer to be no.

“Yes. I’m Private Kaylin Neya. I have an appointment to view 3B.”

The man relaxed slightly; he glanced at Bellusdeo and Emmerian, his eyes narrowing. Neither of the two looked like they lived in this part of town. Ever. “Marten Anders. These your friends?” he asked, stepping into the hall with a very obvious ring of keys in his left hand.

“Yes. This is Bellusdeo. She’ll be sharing the space with me for the time being.” Kaylin failed to introduce Emmerian. Mr. Anders noticed, of course.

“She’ll be marking the lease?”

“No.”

The man shrugged. “We don’t want trouble here,” he told them both. “I run a respectable, quiet place.”

“That’s why we’re here,” Kaylin replied—quickly. Bellusdeo looked as if she was about to speak.

The small dragon squawked instead. The man’s eyes rounded instantly as the transparent troublemaker sat up on Kaylin’s shoulders.

“He’s house-trained, and he doesn’t bite. He doesn’t make much noise.” She resisted the urge to clamp a hand around his mouth, because she was fairly certain ‘doesn’t bite’ would be instantly disproved.

“What is he?”

“A lizard.”

The small dragon squawked.

“You know how there are albinos? He’s like that, but with even less color.”

Mr. Anders nodded slowly. Since Bellusdeo and Emmerian kept glacially stiff expressions plastered to their faces, he accepted the off-the-cuff lie and headed up the stairs.

* * *

There were actually two rooms, although the bedroom was about the size of the smallest of Bellusdeo’s closets in the Palace. The floors were covered by a rug that had seen better decades, and the boards made a lot of noise. To Kaylin, this was familiar and almost comforting. There were windows; they were glassless, but shuttered—and barred.

“Are the bars necessary?” Bellusdeo asked.

“They’re decorative, ma’am,” the landlord replied.

“Good. You won’t mind if we remove them, then. I don’t particularly like the idea of living in a cage.”

Emmerian turned to the landlord before he could reply. “Would it be permissible to make alterations to these rooms and the hallways themselves?”

This was not a question to ask a landlord who was looking less eager by the passing second. If Emmerian had been anything other than a Dragon, Kaylin would have stepped, hard, on his foot.

“What kind of alterations?” was the entirely reasonable response.

“They would be both physical and magical in nature. You clearly have rudimentary mirror grids within the building, but we would require something with a little more power. The windows would have to be changed; we would install glass—at our expense, of course. Are the rooms above this one currently occupied?”

“Yes.”

“If we take this room, we would require it. For the sake of safety, we would also require the room directly below.” Emmerian held up a hand before the man—whose mouth had compressed into a line that sort of matched his narrowed eyes—could interrupt. “We would, of course, be willing to double your current rents. Or possibly triple.” It was the only thing the Dragon Lord had said that might possibly appeal to a landlord, but given the pinched expression on this one’s face, it didn’t appeal enough.

A thought struck Kaylin in the deepening gloom. “I’m not willing to pay triple the rent for these rooms—I can’t afford it, given what I’m paid.”

“No, of course not. We have agreed that we will not interfere materially with your living quarters.”

“And glass windows that practically scream out to enterprising thieves aren’t materially interfering?”

“No. They serve several functions, they increase security, and they add value to the building itself in the event that you choose to leave. The modifications will,” he added, turning once again to the landlord, “remain your property when Private Neya chooses to vacate these premises.”

When. Not if.

Kaylin could feel herself losing inches of height as Emmerian continued. This was possibly the most she’d heard him speak in one sitting, and she regretted the absence of his silence. The only thing worse was the shifting color of Bellusdeo’s eyes. They weren’t full-on red, but they were orange, and she’d dropped the inner membrane that muted their color.

And that, she thought, as she glanced at the pale man who was in theory a possible future landlord, was that. If he hadn’t recognized Bellusdeo for a Dragon upon introduction, he recognized her as something non-mortal, now. Kaylin exhaled. It was the sound of total defeat. “Could you two wait outside?”

When neither Dragon moved, she added, “Now?”

The landlord did not insist on seeing them out. He did fold his notably burly arms across his chest when they were quit of the empty rooms.

“Look, I’m sorry. I’m sorry they were so insulting,” Kaylin told him.

“Dragons, aren’t they?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re a Hawk.” He shrugged. “It’s a job. They always like that?”

“Normally? No. Worse. They don’t intend to be insulting—”

“But they think all mortals are money-grubbing merchants at heart.”

She had the grace to look guilty. “In Bellusdeo’s defense, she’s spent a couple of weeks with us on patrol in the Elani district.”

“So...fraudulent, money-grubbing merchants?” His lips twitched up at the corners. It was slight, but it was better than the frown that had taken up residence while Emmerian was talking.

“Caitlin wouldn’t have recommended the apartment if you were—if you weren’t... Can we just pretend I didn’t start that sentence?”