Michelle Sagara – Cast in Peril (страница 12)

“There was, as far as the mages could tell, only one signature left at the site.”

“That’s unusual.” Kaylin hesitated and then added, “It’s also inaccurate.”

Caitlin winced. “I think you should talk to Marcus, dear. But he’s been dealing with Dragons and mages, so he’s not in the best of moods.”

* * *

“This had better be important,” Marcus said as she approached his desk. He didn’t even bother to look up. He was elbow deep in reports. This would have been unusual, but as it was not the most unusual thing about Marcus at this very moment, Kaylin barely noticed. His left arm—or the fur on it—had been either seared or singed off. “What are you staring at, Private?”

“Nothing. Sir.”

“Good. Why are you gaping at nothing in front of my desk?”

She took a deep breath and lifted her chin slightly. “It’s about my apartment.”

“No.”

“It’s not about the investigation,” she said quickly. “But the Imperial mages apparently only found one magical signature at the detonation site. I saw two.”

Marcus dug a runnel into the desk. “When exactly did you see these?”

“Just after the bomb destroyed my home.”

“Good. I’d hate to have to demote or discipline the Hawks on duty there today; you are not supposed to be on-site. At all.” He gave up on the report he was writing—for a value of write that involved reading and a signature that was shaky to begin with—and lifted his head to stare at her. After a significant pause, he pulled a report from one of the piles. “Here.”

Kaylin had learned love of reports from Marcus but took it anyway.

“I’m up to my armpits in Imperial Concern,” he continued before she could ask about its contents. “The Imperial Order will be interested in what you have to say about a second signature. They’re also likely to feel insulted. I suggest you go directly to Lord Sanabalis; I’ve come this close to relieving one mage of his throat this morning already.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Read that report. You can give me a précis of what it actually says later. And, Private, I mean it: you go anywhere near our investigators at your former address, and you’ll be suspended without pay until you leave the City.”

* * *

Reading reports wasn’t nearly as onerous as writing them—unless you happened to be the Sergeant. Kaylin retired to her cramped, small desk, discovered that someone had commandeered her chair, and sat on the desk’s nearly pristine surface instead of going to find it. Bellusdeo was not in the office, and her mood was not Kaylin’s problem, but she felt guilty enjoying the Dragon’s absence. The report helped with that, but not in a good way.

She was uncertain as to why the report was even on Marcus’s desk, because in theory, it involved the fiefs. The Hawks kept an eye on the bridges between the fiefs and the rest of the City, but it was cursory; they couldn’t stop traffic from entering the fiefs, and they couldn’t stop traffic from leaving them, either, although admittedly questions were asked in either case. There was, with the exception of Tiamaris, very little of either.

Oh, wait. There it was: the small tendril that led to the large, omnipresent web. A boy, Miccha Jannoson, had, on a dare from his friends—Kaylin snorted at the word—crossed the bridge from the City into the fiefs. He was lucky, in that the fief in question was Tiamaris; there was enough traffic over that bridge, and most of it seemed to return in the other direction at the end of the day.

He was unlucky, in that he didn’t appear to be one of the returnees. His grandmother had filed a report with Missing Persons the following morning. Which would be yesterday.

Tiamaris was both fieflord and Dragon Lord, and he was willing to cooperate with the Halls of Law in their search.

She read through to the end; there, transcribed, was a brief message from Tiamaris: the boy was not the only person to disappear within his fief in the past two weeks. In other fiefs, such disappearances might not be noticed, noted, or of concern; in Tiamaris, they were apparently personal, Tiamaris being a Dragon. He requested, at the Halls’ leisure, a check for possible similar disappearances within Elantra, but asked that the check be broader: not teenage boys, but people, period. Mortals.

Kaylin glanced at the small dragon draped across her shoulders. She had four days before her departure. Four days wasn’t a lot of time for an investigation of something big—and the fact that Tiamaris had made an all but official request meant he considered it significant. Maybe it was time to visit the fief and speak to Tara.

* * *

Teela dropped by her desk as she was planning. Kaylin almost fell over when she saw the Barrani officer’s face; it was bruised. Her eyes, however, were green. Mostly.

“Kitling,” Teela said, sounding as tired as she looked.

Kaylin felt her jaw hanging open, and shut it.

“Why are you staring? I don’t recall ever saying I was impervious to harm.”

“What the hells were you fighting? Barrani?”

“A dozen.”

Report forgotten, Kaylin swiveled in her chair. “What happened last night?”

“We met some resistance.”

“You didn’t go on a raid with two bloody Dragons expecting no resistance.”

“Sit down. I didn’t come here to deliver bad news; I came here to extend an invitation to the High Halls.”

Kaylin’s brows disappeared into her hairline; if they hadn’t been attached to the rest of her face, they would have kept going. “P-pardon?”

“It is a personal invitation,” Teela added.

“I’m guesting at the Palace at the moment, on account of having no home.”

“Yes. You could stay with me in the High Halls instead; I find the Halls very dull and otherwise too peaceful. Regardless, you will require suitable clothing for your journey to the West March. I assume that very little of yours survived.”

“I’m wearing most of it.” Kaylin sat. “You’re not going to tell me what happened, are you?”

“You can read the report when it’s written. You can read any of a dozen reports; Marcus probably won’t.”

“Teela—”

Teela lifted a hand. “Two of the mages died. We lost four Hawks; three of them were Barrani, one was Aerian. Clint was injured, but not badly; Tain has a broken arm and the disposition one would expect from that.”

“Marcus?”

“His fur was singed, as you may have noticed. He’s alive. He’s alive,” Teela added, “because he can move his bulk at need, and he moved.”

“I don’t suppose the Dragons—”

“The Dragons are, of course, fine.”

“The Arcanum—”

“The Arcanum was damaged during the fighting; it is, however, still structurally sound.”

“Evarrim?”

“He was not involved in the fighting.” The way she said it made clear that no more questions about Evarrim were going to be answered; it also made clear that she would have been happier if he had been.

“What were you looking for anyway?”

“The Arcanists involved with the Human Caste Court and their missing funds.”

“Did you find them?”

“All but one.”

“Are they in custody?”

Teela stared at her until she felt embarrassed for even asking. “Do remember,” she said, “that the Emperor can hold his own laws in abeyance should the need arise, hmm? The Arcanists were expecting trouble; they just weren’t expecting the quality of the trouble they did get.” She said this with a particularly vicious smile. “I’ll meet you here after work.”

“But I can’t stay in the High Halls.”

“Why not?”

“Bellusdeo will kill me.”

Teela frowned. “You haven’t learned anything from yesterday, have you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Hanging around with that particular Dragon is not good for your health. I’m not sure she’s in the clear yet, and if she’s not, you won’t be.”

“I’m in the Palace,” Kaylin pointed out.