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Cast in Peril
Cast in Peril
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Cast in Peril

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His brows rose. “Impossible.”

She swallowed. “Sir—”

Clint cleared his throat; she’d forgotten he was even there. “It’s not impossible, sir.”

“You have a damage report?”

“We have Hawks working with a portable mirror now, but I did see the building.”

“And?”

“It’s sustained severe structural damage. Very little remains of the walls, floor, or ceiling in the room in which the suspected bomb exploded.”

“And you, Private, were somehow not in the room when it did explode?”

“I was.”

He looked over her head to Bellusdeo, who was standing and looking vaguely regal. Although Dragons were not Barrani, and therefore lacked some of their innate grace and cold beauty, they certainly weren’t mortal. They could, on the other hand, hide it better when they chose to do so. “We were both in the room.”

“You are unharmed?”

“Yes.”

“Did you shield yourself?”

Bellusdeo’s brow rose a fraction. “I did not.”

“Can you explain how you are both alive?”

“Not definitively, but I have some suspicion.”

“And that?”

“The necessary item in Private Neya’s hands.”

Every set of eyes in the office that were close enough to Kaylin now turned their attention to what she was carrying. The Hawklord’s eyes were already losing the sapphire edge of their blue. Tain and Marcus still looked enraged, however.

“Private, explain.”

“When we had the problem with the magical surges a few weeks ago, the midwives had some problems with some of the deliveries.”

“Yes. I read the reports.” It was hard to tell from his tone of voice whether or not he was being sarcastic.

“This came from one of those problems.” She lifted her hands, extending her arms to enable her commander to get a closer look. The translucent dragon lifted its wings and then raised its delicate head, elongating its neck in the process.

Kaylin hurriedly drew her arms back in, because she wasn’t entirely certain what the little creature would do—and biting the Hawklord’s nose appeared to be a distinct possibility.

“I…see.” To Bellusdeo he said, “How did this small dragon preserve your lives?”

“He is not a Dragon,” she replied as she approached Kaylin’s side. “But I believe he is a familiar.”

* * *

The Hawklord and the Sergeant exchanged a glance. Kaylin was willing to bet a large amount of money—and given her finances, large was relative—that the Sergeant, at least, had never heard the term.

“What is a familiar?” Score. His fur was slowly sinking, but his ears would probably be standing on end for an hour.

“Theoretically?” Bellusdeo asked.

“It doesn’t look very theoretical to me.”

“A familiar is theoretically the companion of a Sorcerer.”

Marcus glanced at the Hawklord again. On the other hand, Kaylin was pretty sure he knew that word. He growled. Kaylin winced. The small creature spread its wings.

“Sergeant,” Bellusdeo said in an entirely different tone of voice, “I suggest you approach—and speak—respectfully. If we are correct, the small creature in front of you absorbed the brunt of the magical explosion and converted some of that power into a protective barrier.”

“What? Something with a brain that size?”

The creature opened its little mouth and tried to roar. It squeaked.

“I think he might be hungry,” Kaylin said.

Marcus’s eyes had actually cooled to a more workable burnt-orange by this point. Irritation and fury clearly couldn’t occupy the same turf in his mind for long. The creature squeaked again, and Marcus covered his eyes, briefly, with his pads. “I-do-not-believe-I-am-having-this-day,” he said. “Private!”

She stiffened. “Sir!”

“Do you know why the office is so crowded tonight?”

“No, sir.”

“Because we are about to move into three important areas with the aid of the Wolves. Do you know why we haven’t left yet?”

“No, sir.”

“Because your apartment exploded.”

“Sir—”

“We are under orders to secure Lady Bellusdeo until representatives of the Dragon Court arrive.”

“And me?” she asked, feeling a little of the cold recede. “Since she’s safe and I don’t have anywhere else to be, can I go with Teela and Tain?”

“Absolutely not,” a new voice said. A familiar new voice, and not one she particularly wanted to hear in her own office. “I believe the Private and Lady Bellusdeo are otherwise occupied this evening.”

Standing in the doors that served as either entrance or exit was the familiar and detestable Lord Diarmat. In his Dragon armor.

* * *

Caitlin returned to the office with a steaming mug of what Kaylin privately suspected was milk filched from the mess hall. She had to maneuver herself and the milk around Lord Diarmat’s stiff body, because he didn’t appear to notice her.

“Lord Diarmat,” Bellusdeo said sweetly. She bowed.

“Lady Bellusdeo,” he replied far less sweetly. He did, however, also bow. “You are to return, with escort, to the Palace.”

“Oh?”

“The Emperor is concerned; he feels it likely that you were the target of the attempted assassination.”

Kaylin was relieved for just as long as it took her to remember that even if Bellusdeo weren’t here, she would still have no privacy because she didn’t have a home.

“However, since Private Neya is also somewhat unusual, he considers it not impossible that she was the target and you would merely have been collateral damage.” The Imperial Dragon turned to the Hawklord. “Lord Grammayre.”

“Lord Diarmat.” The Hawklord bowed; the Dragon didn’t. Kaylin watched, memorizing the details of the Hawklord’s bow and hating the fact that it was necessary. “You are prepared?”

“I am. I have a dozen of my own men waiting; three of the mages of the Imperial Order are also in position. Lord Emmerian will meet us there.”

Kaylin shook her head. Caitlin brought the milk and set it carefully on the edge of Marcus’s desk. “Do you think you can hold your little friend in one hand?”

Kaylin nodded but didn’t move. “Teela, what is he talking about? He’s not here to take Bellusdeo to the Palace?”

“No,” she replied.

“That is correct. I am here on more martial, but not more necessary, business. Lord Sanabalis, however, is waiting in an Imperial Carriage in the yard. He will be your escort. Lady Bellusdeo, should there be any threat of magic or physical attack, the Emperor will excuse any transformation you deem necessary.”

Bellusdeo said nothing at all—and given her expression, which was glacial, that was a good thing.

Chapter 3

“Does this mean that we’re off the lesson hook?” Kaylin asked Bellusdeo as they walked to the yard. They were shadowed by Clint, whose wings still hadn’t come down and whose eyes were still blue. She particularly hated to see Clint’s eyes go blue, because, among other things, he had the laugh she loved best in the entire department, and when his eyes were that color, there was no chance of hearing it.

“I have no idea. Given the time, and given Lord Diarmat’s current disposition, I would guess that we are, indeed, excused from a few hours of his pompous and unfortunate cultural babble.”

Clint actually choked slightly, and his eyes did clear a bit. Lord Diarmat was the captain, and therefore commander, of the Imperial Guard, and the Imperial Guard wasn’t generally beloved by the Halls of Law; the Imperial Guard had a very high opinion of themselves and a less than respectful opinion of anyone else in a uniform who also served at the Emperor’s command.

The small dragon was now sitting half in her hand; the other half extended up her arm so that his neck could more or less rest against it.

“I wish that creature could make himself invisible,” Bellusdeo said quietly.

“Why?”

“Because I worry about the attention he’ll attract.”

“Could it be any worse than an Arcane bomb that destroys his entire home?”

“Oh, I don’t think his life—if it even is a he—is in any danger. I think yours, on the other hand—”

“Let’s pretend I just repeated that question.”

Bellusdeo lifted a brow and then just shook her head. “Do you honestly think that the bomb was meant for you?”

“Does it matter? If it was meant for you, it still destroyed my home and everything in it that wasn’t attached to something breathing.” She took a deep breath, expelled it, and shook her head. “Sorry. You don’t deserve that.”

“You’re certain?”

“No. I was trying to be polite. If someone’s trying to kill you—” which, in Kaylin’s opinion, was the most likely option “—it’s probably not fun for you, either. But that’s been my home since I crossed the bridge from the fiefs. Caitlin helped me find it. Caitlin let me choose it. It’s the only place I’ve ever been certain was mine.”

“…And if someone was trying to kill me, it’s indirectly my fault that it’s gone?”

“You’re sure you’re not a Tha’alani in disguise?”

“Relatively.”

Kaylin muttered a few Leontine words and wished she could just sew her own mouth shut for the next hour or two. Because part of her did feel exactly that, and she wasn’t proud of it. She just couldn’t figure out how to squelch it. It would be different if she’d begged Bellusdeo to live with her; she hadn’t. She’d practically done the opposite. And if Bellusdeo had been living in Tiamaris or the Imperial Palace—which had been Kaylin’s first and second choices—Kaylin would still have a home.

The small dragon sank claws into her arm and dragged itself up to her shoulder, where it perched to bite her ear. She cursed in louder Leontine and then swiveled her neck to glare. The opal eyes of the small creature regarded her, unblinking, for a long moment.

“I guess I deserved that,” she said in a quiet voice as some of the tension began to leave her jaw and neck.

“Why?” Bellusdeo asked in the same cool, practical voice.

“Because if you’re right—and given my luck, you probably are—he’s trying to tell me that he wouldn’t have hatched at all if someone with a crapload of magical power hadn’t been trying to kill you.”

* * *

Sanabalis was enraged. If he’d opened his mouth and foot-long fangs had sprouted, it would have looked completely natural. Kaylin, who’d been following on Bellusdeo’s heels, almost backed out of the carriage. She managed not to, but only barely. “I—I have another place to stay,” she began.

“Get. In.”

She did. To Kaylin’s surprise, given his mood, Sanabalis did not slam the carriage door.

They traveled halfway to the Palace in silence. Sanabalis broke it, because he was the only one who dared—or cared to; Bellusdeo didn’t seem overly concerned with his mood. “What is sitting on your shoulder?”

“The—the hatchling,” Kaylin replied, managing to stop the words small dragon from leaving her mouth.

“Hatchling?”

“I— Yes. From an egg.”

He raised a brow, and the color of his eyes began to brighten into a much safer orange. On the usual bad day, orange wasn’t a safe color; funny how context was everything. “Generally the word hatch implies egg. What egg?”

“I don’t suppose we can wait until we get to the Palace? The Arkon’s going to ask the same questions.”

A white brow rose as Sanabalis snorted smoke into the enclosed space.

* * *

When the carriage pulled into the Imperial drive, the road was swarming with guards. This was impressive, because Diarmat implied he’d taken a few dozen with him; she wondered if any of the Imperial Guard was off duty tonight. More impressive, for a value of impressive Kaylin often found annoying, were the half-dozen older men in the robes of the Imperial Order of Mages. If they resented being dragooned into guard duty, they very carefully kept it off their faces as Sanabalis and Bellusdeo disembarked. They even managed to do so when Kaylin did.