Michelle Sagara – Cast In Honour (страница 20)

“She had Marcus practically strapped to a bed. Last I looked, he didn’t have wings.”

“Fair enough. Marcus doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with your request. Neither does Caitlin. But don’t ask him for permission—either do it or decide on the better part of valor.” She headed up the stairs as she spoke, and Kaylin fell in behind her. “Let’s talk to Hanson and then head to the infirmary.”

* * *

The Hawklord ruled the Hawks, but the details of schedule, among other things, was decided by Hanson, his attaché. Unless the Hawklord personally summoned you, you didn’t see him without speaking to Hanson first.

Hanson’s office door was creaky and stiff. Nothing would induce him to change this; it was his early warning system, as far as Kaylin could tell. He was at his desk, his glasses hooked to his ears but resting on his graying head, rather than in front of his eyes.

He didn’t look particularly surprised to see Kaylin; he didn’t look entirely thrilled, either. Hanson wasn’t normally unfriendly—he wasn’t, like Mallory or a handful of other Hawks, disgusted at her inclusion on the force.

“You don’t look happy to see me.”

“I am delighted to see you,” he replied, looking anything but. His lips did twitch, though. He glanced at Teela, and the hint of a smile vanished. “You, on the other hand, look like you have no time to waste.”

“If you’re the roadblock, I’m perfectly happy to take a break.”

“Thanks, no. What do you need?”

“Sergeant Kassan requires a fire to be lit under the butts of the Imperial mages on duty in the Winding Path investigation.”

Hanson glanced at the mirror on the left of his desk. It was smaller than Marcus’s mirror, but it was significantly cleaner. People did not leave fingerprints on Hanson’s mirror. “How big is this going to get?”

“I honestly don’t know,” Teela replied.

This time Hanson grimaced. “Anything else?”

“That we know of? No.”

Hanson’s mirror flared white in the room. “Private,” a familiar Leontine voice barked. “Imperial Palace transmission. Your presence is requested—an hour ago—in the Imperial Library.”

“The message just came in, sir.”

“Don’t bother with logic,” Hanson said; he had clearly keyed the mirror to mute his voice. “Nothing you do is going to make the rabid Leontine sheathe his claws. Not today.”

* * *

“Is it too much to ask?” Kaylin muttered as she tromped down the stairs.

“Is what?”

“A normal day.”

“Be careful what you wish for. As far as I can tell, this is your new normal.” Teela’s grin was sharp and very Barrani.

“It’s not just the weirdness of the Winding Path. I could deal with that. Marcus is almost certainly going to insist we accompany Red when he goes—but that’s work. It’s Hawk work. But I also have to go home to Mandoran and Annarion—and can I just say that Annarion has been in a mood? He’s getting angrier by the day.”

“You are not telling me anything I have not fully experienced for myself. Are you going to tell him about Gilbert?”

“I’m going to talk to Helen first—because if I tell him about Gilbert, he’s going to demand to visit, and Helen hasn’t cleared him yet.”

“Ah.”

“We lost too many people the last time he walked our streets. Knowing what we know now, it would be consenting to murder just to let him out the door.” She exhaled. “And he knows that. I’m not being fair. I would just... I’d kind of like to be able to leave my work at the office once in a while.”

“You’re whining.”

“Yes. I’m whining where a grouchy Leontine won’t hear me and rip out my throat.” Kaylin exhaled. “Sorry. I kind of like them both. And I understand why Annarion is going crazy—if one of my foundlings was missing, I wouldn’t be able to sit still, practicing whatever it is he’s practicing. But Nightshade’s not anyone’s definition of helpless. If we somehow find out that he is in Ravellon—and I seriously doubt that he could be, because I’d hear him, I’m certain of it—it’s Nightshade who’s likely to survive it in one piece.”

“Annarion doesn’t want to take you with them.”

This should have made Kaylin feel better, but it didn’t. It annoyed her.

“He will, though.”

Kaylin stopped at the base of the Tower steps. “You can’t make him do anything he doesn’t want to do.”

“Actually, I can.”

“You’re not going to Ravellon, Teela. Even if we do go.”

Teela smiled her best “that’s nice, dear” smile and walked past Kaylin into the office.

* * *

The Arkon, Caitlin told them—both Hawks studiously avoiding Marcus’s desk—had requested their presence in the Imperial Library. Bellusdeo, Tain and Severn would meet them there.

That left only one item on Kaylin’s list of things to do in this location. She headed to the infirmary. Moran was significant to the Aerian Caste Court. Kaylin knew the Human Caste Court—and didn’t particularly care for it—but it seemed to be a type of figurehead organization of the rich and powerful. The Caste Court could, in theory, rescue mortals from Imperial Law by invoking the laws of exception—and it had, historically. None of those exceptions had been called for in Kaylin’s seven years with the force.

She understood the composition of the Barrani Caste Court; they had never invoked laws of exception. Anyone Barrani who might have benefited from them wound up dead—very obviously dead—in a public space. If the Barrani in question had thrown themselves on the mercy of the Imperial Courts, however, their desire or request took precedence, whether the racial Caste Court liked it or not.

But the Aerian Caste Court was entirely unfamiliar to Kaylin. Kaylin tried briefly to imagine Moran throwing herself on the mercy of anything, and came up blank. She stared, instead, at the very closed infirmary door. Aerians, as a general rule, weren’t fond of closed doors; this one was the equivalent of writing GET LOST in large, unfriendly letters.

Kaylin tried the door anyway. It wasn’t locked—during normal operating hours, it wouldn’t be. Moran was seated, back toward the door, displaying her injuries. “Unless you’re dying,” she said, without turning, “I’m busy.” Her tone also indicated that physical state could be changed.

The small dragon left Kaylin’s shoulder before she could stop him—and she did try. He flew straight to Moran, and landed, somewhat messily, on what appeared to be her paperwork. Kaylin cringed. Her familiar squawked.

Moran’s ill humor did not immediately descend on the small, winged creature—anyone else would have lost a hand. “Private,” she said, still refusing to turn around, “this is not a good time to have a discussion. The infirmary—absent usual emergencies—is closed.”

“I didn’t come here because I’m injured.” Or because she wanted to be, but Kaylin chose to leave that out. “I came because you’re living here.”

Moran exhaled heavily. “Come and get your pet.”

Squawk.

“Or whatever it is you call him.”

“I call him ‘small and squawky.’”

“Which has the advantage of being accurate, I suppose.” Moran finally turned on her stool. She looked bruised and haggard; her hair was flat and dull, and her eyes were gray—a dark gray, not the ash-gray that meant serenity. “Why are you here?”

“Because you’re living in the infirmary.” Moran opened her mouth and Kaylin lifted a hand. “The only so-called living quarters in the Halls of Law are the cells. I have this on the authority of the Hawklord—because when I appeared in his Tower years ago, that’s exactly what he told me.”

Moran’s brows rose.

“Marcus insists that we lead by example. You’re several ranks above me. You’re not—that I know of—living in a cell.”

Teela, who had entered the room behind Kaylin, said a resounding nothing.

“You would have hated my old apartment—you would have twisted a wing just getting through the door. But I have a new place. Maybe you’ve heard something about it?”

“Not a lot. Caitlin mentioned she’d be visiting sometime next week.”

Not to Kaylin, but that was irrelevant. There was never a day on which Kaylin wouldn’t be happy to allow Caitlin into her home—she had even given her keys to the first one. “When you say not a lot—”

“I know you’re living with Bellusdeo and two Barrani who are visiting the city.” Her eye color slid toward blue. Aerian blue wasn’t Barrani blue, but the color shift indicated pretty much the same thing. Which of course meant Moran had heard a lot more than she was letting on.

“You forgot the Norannir. I’ve got a Norannir in residence, as well.”

“You’ve got one of the giants in your home?”

Kaylin nodded.

“Does he fit?”

“The common ceilings are pretty high. I’ve got a tower—much like the Hawklord’s Tower—as well, although that won’t be as useful to you right now.”

Moran folded her arms.