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“Let us say that a detachment was sent—in haste—to greet him. He was not, by all reports, in an entirely pleasant mood, nor was he willing to embark upon the more delicate dance of diplomacy usually employed between the Barrani High Court and the Dragon Court.”
“What happened?”
“Swords were brought, armor was brought—I’m afraid you’ve probably missed them; they are artifacts, preserved in the Halls, from the wars between our kind.”
“The Emperor wasn’t impressed.”
“I wouldn’t say that. They didn’t enrage him, however; he was already too close to that state to be concerned about simple armor or weapons.”
Kaylin grimaced. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“I assure you, a Dragon in the High Halls—”
“I meant tormenting me.”
“Oh, that. Yes, I admit your very mortal patience is a delight to try on occasion. I have to get it out of my system before we reach the High Halls and I’m forced to call you Lord Kaylin in a serious way.”
“As opposed to the way you use the title in the office?”
“As opposed to that, yes.” She smiled. She had a beautiful smile.
“So the Emperor was hunting for the missing Arcanist in the High Halls?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I believe there is some confusion. He wasn’t hunting for the Arcanist because of the Arcanum’s interference with the Human Caste Court; the investigation into the matter of the Exchequer, while a growing annoyance and a severe inconvenience, is unlikely to bring the two Courts to the brink of open conflict.” She paused. “It is likely, however, given your current suspicions, to cause far, far more concern to both Immortal Courts. At the moment it is in the hands of the Tha’alani and the Imperial Order of Mages.”
“Ugh. Let me guess: the Human Caste Court is claiming that they were enspelled.”
“Very good, kitling.”
“Is there any possibility that’s true?”
“If greed is a spell, yes, in my opinion. The Tha’alani will sort some of it out. At the moment, it’s uncertain how many of the Caste Court were involved in covering up for the Exchequer because they were expressing racial solidarity and how many were being heavily bribed. We have our actuarial experts working on that, as well. It is just possible that the Caste Court was collectively the victim of severe extortion; Nightshade indicated two Arcanists, one of whom perished and one of whom is missing.”
“It’s not likely he’ll flee to the High Halls.”
“No. As Lord Evarrim will, however, be present at the High Halls, it would be best if you tucked your pet under your tunic until we reach my rooms, if at all possible. I don’t think I need to tell you to—”
“Avoid him like the plague?”
“Indeed. I realize you are not fond of him. He is my cousin, and I am not fond of him, either.”
“Do you have any idea who the Barrani was?”
“I believe so.”
“What are the Emperor’s chances of catching him?”
“Not, at the moment, high. It would also be an interesting fight, although I think I would place odds on the Emperor.”
“Speaking of the Emperor—”
“He would have been content to leave the investigation—and the usual negotiations that occur when the Law and the High Halls collide—in the hands of the Halls and the Hawklord.”
“But?”
“Patience. You will recall one other event of significance that occurred yesterday?”
“My apartment was destroyed.”
“Very good. Yes. Your apartment was destroyed, and by some stroke of luck, folly, or very peculiar destiny, neither of its two occupants joined it.”
“He’s pissed about Bellusdeo.”
“He is, indeed, angry about Bellusdeo.”
“Did the Barrani even know about Bellusdeo?”
“Demonstrably.”
“…How many others are likely to try to kill her?”
“After the Emperor’s visit? Only the suicidal. We’re immortal, not invulnerable.”
Kaylin frowned. “How do you feel about her?”
Teela’s eyes narrowed. “That is an unwise question.”
“Which means you won’t answer.”
“Which means I will answer.”
Kaylin lifted a hand. “I don’t want to hear it.”
“Then, next time, don’t ask. It wouldn’t trouble me—at all—if she died. It would not have troubled me at all had the attempt on her life been made in any other location. Or rather, had it been made while she wasn’t dogging your footsteps like a foolish, bored child. The Dragon Court already shadows the High Halls, as it shadows all of our kind; what need have we of more of them?”
“Teela—”
“We serve the Emperor.”
“I don’t think he’d consider your opinion appropriate service.”
“No, he wouldn’t. Bellusdeo has two points in her favor. She apparently likes—and respects—you, something that most of the Immortals of any power or significance fail to do, and she has, purportedly, argued at length with both the Captain of the Imperial Guard and the Eternal Emperor himself in an attempt to elevate your stature.”
“How do you know that?”
“I am part of the High Court, of course.”
“Which is never allowed anywhere near the Imperial Court. You’ve got a lot of spies in the Palace?”
“Kitling, please.”
Kaylin allowed—barely—that it had probably been a naive question. “But I don’t think the High Court cares whether or not she likes or respects me.”
“Ah, I wasn’t clear. She has two points in her favor where my opinion is concerned. Neither of those points will hold much sway where the rest of the High Court is concerned, but I’m sure you’re aware how much I care.”
“You wear the Hawk.”
“Exactly.” Teela grimaced. “No one was happy when word of her arrival reached the High Court. It’s been somewhat tricky for the Barrani Hawks, but as one of the few who is also a Lord of the Court, it’s been trickier for me. The others simply remained outside of the reach of the High Court.”
“They can do that?”
“They know the mortal city quite well. Yes, they can. It’s not considered politically wise in most circumstances, but given the probability that they would be required to spy on Bellusdeo in the best possible case, it was prudent.”
“You went to Court.”
“I did. I am not particularly afraid to deny a request that has no merit. Bellusdeo is a Dragon, and it is probable that if she survives, there will be young Dragons again, but I cannot see that as a material threat in the near future. The heart of the fiefs is a greater danger, and the Emperor is, in my opinion, critical if we wish to keep the Shadows in check. Evarrim does not agree; he feels all that we require are the Towers, now active.” Her frown was cool and slow to develop. “The Dragons and the Barrani are not at war, at the moment. But war has oft been our state in the past, and it is clear that it is a possibility in the future, as well. Fewer Dragons, in that case, would work to our advantage.”
Kaylin said nothing very loudly.
“You asked, kitling.”
It was true. She had. And she pretty much hated the answer, even if it didn’t surprise her. But she didn’t—and couldn’t—hate Teela for it. And why? Because Bellusdeo was a power. She was immortal. She had once been Queen. Hating Bellusdeo wasn’t in any way the same as selling gods alone knew how many helpless and powerless people to an Arcanist.
The small dragon nudged her cheek with its head; she ignored him until he bit her earlobe. “Can you just promise me one thing?” she said when she had stopped her very Leontine cursing and had covered one ear with her hand.
Teela lifted a brow.
“Can you hold off on the whole war thing until after I’m dead?”
Chapter 8
Fittings for Barrani clothing were definitely not the same thing as fittings for uniforms. For one, there was no Quartermaster. There were Barrani, but they appeared to have been vetted by Teela, because they treated Kaylin with abject—and genuine—deference. Kaylin found that, more than anything else in the Halls, truly unsettling, because Teela didn’t even seem to notice. Kaylin did. She usually noticed the exchanges between those who had all the power and those who had none; she’d been on the zero end of the scale for a majority of her life, and in her case, old habits died hard.
These Barrani—two men and two women—also failed to notice the small dragon that was nesting, at the moment, in Kaylin’s hair. The dragon, on the other hand, didn’t seem to find this troubling.
“What, exactly, is disturbing you, kitling? Has someone poked you with a needle?” Teela’s tone was cool and regal, although her eyes were green. She spoke Barrani, not Elantran.
“Just—nothing. Nothing.”
“If someone is clumsy enough to injure you, even in so minor a fashion, I will deal with it.”
Kaylin wondered if Teela had said this on purpose, because Teela was perfectly capable of being deliberately cruel. “I can deal with it myself,” Kaylin said stiffly, this time in Barrani.
“Ah. So you merely desire permission?”
“Teela—”
The Hawk lifted a hand. “Endure for a moment or two longer,” she said. “I will not have you presented to the rest of the Lords who have chosen the pilgrimage in inappropriate attire; as befits your station, you are expected—by title—to know better. If you fail to do so, it is not upon you that their derision will fall.”
That stopped her cold. “Upon you?”
“Very perceptive. If they insult you while I am present, I am bound by custom since I have claimed you as my kyuthe to defend you. It is therefore unlikely to occur, and if it does, it will be because an enemy of my kin wishes to engage me.” She smiled. Her smile was slender and very sharp. “I have no reluctance whatsoever to rid the Court of my enemies or the enemies of my line, but I wish to do it on my own terms. I would rather not reward them with a challenge over something as trivial as your attire; if they seek to provoke me, let them at least be creative.”
Kaylin exhaled the rest of the breath she would have used for more angry words. “I’m never going to understand the Barrani.”
“You needn’t sound so morose, Lord Kaylin. They are unlikely to understand you, either.”
“Yes, but I’m unlikely to try to kill them for fun.”
* * *
At the end of two hours, the attendants offered graceful bows to Teela, who accepted them as her due. When they left, she glanced at the door and then spoke three sharp words. Or at least three sharp syllables; Kaylin didn’t recognize the language.
“Many of my kin in particular dislike being ruled by a Dragon. Given the history of our two races, that is unlikely to surprise you. If it does,” she added darkly, “refrain from sharing.”
“Very funny.” Kaylin found a nearby cushion that was about three sizes larger than anything she’d ever owned. She sat on it and then, surprised by how soft it was, sprawled flat on her back instead. The dragon leapt off her head before she landed, and set up a loud squawking that lasted a good thirty seconds, while Teela chuckled. “Now that one of the Barrani Arcanists has attempted to assassinate Bellusdeo, the Emperor is watching. And he’s pissed off.”
“The Emperor is always watching. But yes, he is angry. It is possible that there exist, among the High Court, Lords who would do much to inflame his fury.”
“Because they’re suicidal?”
“Because it would rekindle war, Kaylin. They think, at this point, we would have the advantage in a war—and with the appearance of your Bellusdeo, that advantage is likely to dwindle with time.”
“What do you think?”
“War bores me,” she replied in a tone that perfectly suited the words. “And treason, only a little less. They are both so frequent and hold so few surprises; if you read up on the history of the Barrani—in the High Court texts, not the sanitized dribbles in the Halls—you will find that treason, like war, is an age-old practice for the very conservative among my kin. I feel it has been long enough that those same conservatives might consider it attractive again.
“If you will therefore condescend to be moved, I will feed you and escort you off the grounds.”
* * *
The food was good. The escort, however, went less smoothly. Teela was there, all right, but as they left whatever set of rooms Teela occupied, the Halls got a little more crowded. It was the wrong kind of crowd; the Barrani didn’t do milling with any competence. Also, two of them were in armor.
Teela didn’t appear to be concerned, if you failed to notice the color of her eyes. Kaylin tensed. This was a fight in which she might be helpful to Teela if circumstances were perfect. Sadly, perfect would involve the sudden disappearance of all but two of the Barrani who loitered here, obviously waiting.
The glass dragon was sitting across her shoulders; she felt him shift position and lifted a hand to press his slender body firmly back down. “Not here,” she told him quietly. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to separate.”
He stopped struggling the minute the last of the words left her mouth, and pressed himself into her shoulder, looping his tail around her neck so tightly it reminded Kaylin why she didn’t care for necklaces.
“Lord An’Teela.”
“Lord Darrowelm.” Teela offered a polite—shallow—bow; it was, however, graceful. If the man to whom she addressed the bow was offended, it didn’t show; his eyes had been blue from the start. “Has the Emperor returned?”
At this, Lord Darrowelm’s eyes narrowed. “He has not. The High Lord has convened an emergency session of the High Court. Given the constraints of time and the matter of the Emperor, he felt it possible that you had not been informed.”
