03 #2
A dangerous choice, the message continued, especially at this juncture. I would suggest, if safety is a concern, that you make a different one.
Kaylin’s hands grew cold.
But if you will not, you will not. I have made time in the garden to receive you tomorrow. I have been informed that you have
duties to the Halls of Law with which I should not interfere. Were the situation not so unstable, I would arrange a meeting
that does not overlap with that work. I cannot.
I have carved out time in the morning, perhaps an hour after sunrise. I have informed the High Lord of your imminent visit;
his guards will be aware of your presence.
I look forward to your company on the morrow.
Kaylin looked at Mandoran.
“Bad news?”
“Uncertain.”
Mandoran’s expression made clear he didn’t consider this uncertain. It was bad news. “It would really simplify all of our lives if we could just let you join us. What’s in the letter?”
“The Consort has either invited or commanded my presence in the High Halls.”
It is a command, Ynpharion said, voice stiff with his usual annoyance. But congratulations for even being aware of that fact.
“Teela’s on her way.” Mandoran’s eyes lightened as he spoke.
“Did you tell her about the Consort’s invitation?”
“I didn’t attempt to keep it from her, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Ugh. “The Consort believes I shouldn’t attend the High Halls with Teela. Or Sedarias. Or probably anyone obviously associated
with her.”
“She’s not telling you to go alone, surely?”
“It’s okay if I bring Severn. It’s okay if I show up wearing the Hawks’ tabard—she thinks it might be better, because it’ll
remind people that the Halls of Law exist, and our deaths would prevent laws of exemption from being called.”
“Not that that would do you any good.”
Kaylin shrugged. “It comes with the job. I won’t be sent to the Halls of Law for that job, so the tabard is partly a lie.
Which reminds me. I need to clear my unexpected absence with my sergeant.”
Helen prepared the mirror room.
“I have taken the liberty of contacting the Arkon,” Helen said. “While I understand your request was meant for your sergeant,
I believe the Arkon will expedite your appointment—and you are less likely to suffer loss of pay.”
Helen’s mirror changed from day to day. Tara’s mirror in the fief of Tiamaris didn’t: it was a still, small pond.
A ripple could destroy the mirror image.
She, like Helen, was deeply suspicious of the mirror network; she considered it a large security risk.
But she was practical. She knew that much of her lord’s life—as Kaylin’s—relied on that mirror network.
It was faster than courier or in-person discussion if the person one needed to reach was halfway across the city.
Today, Helen’s mirror resembled the long, wide standing mirror in the Hawklord’s Tower. Sanabalis appeared across the mirror’s
surface.
“I have been informed,” he said, eyes orange, “that this is an important or urgent communication. Thank you, Helen,” he added,
although he was staring at Kaylin.
Kaylin exhaled. “The Consort has . . . invited me to visit her in the High Halls.”
“I see. Given our current concerns, that is of interest.”
“Tomorrow.”
Sanabalis blinked. “Tomorrow?”
“I’m to attend her tomorrow. During the earliest hours of my work day.”
“Ah. I see. You wish me to make clear to your sergeant that I have called in your services. Will you require your partner?”
“Yes. She suggests that I visit kitted out as a Hawk.”
Sanabalis frowned, his brows drawing together. “Very well. She understands the possible difficulties.” He cleared his throat.
“We have been informed of the incident in the fiefs. You are aware of the Emperor’s interest in the fiefs—particularly the
stability of the Towers.” In other words: Nightshade was important. Kaylin was slightly annoyed, because she already knew that. But she was pretty certain Sanabalis would say this to anyone; it wasn’t—or shouldn’t be—personal. “We will leave the guarding
of the fieflord in your hands. If you were not who you are, I would forbid you to accept the Consort’s invitation at this
time.”
Kaylin nodded. Had she any real choice, she’d’ve rejected it as well.
Ynpharion said nothing. He agreed and disagreed; minor approval at unheard-of caution clashed with outrage at the possible insult to his lord.
“Very well. I expect to hear back from you after your visit.”
Kaylin shrugged, uneasy. There were things she couldn’t discuss with Sanabalis. Or anyone who didn’t already know.
Luckily she didn’t have to.
Helen cleared her throat. “Teela has arrived, dear. I think she wants to speak with you immediately.”
Of course she did.
Teela was dressed casually; she didn’t wear the tabard after work, but neither did Kaylin. Kaylin hadn’t had a chance to change;
she’d approached Nightshade at a full run, and the investigation and subsequent arrival home had been the priority. Still,
Teela’s court dress was absent. Her sword was not.
Helen hadn’t opened the parlor, which meant this wasn’t going to be a cozy social time. Given the color of Teela’s eyes, that
was obvious.
“Have you eaten, dear?” Helen asked. Helen was probably the only person in existence who could call Teela dear.
“No. I doubt Kaylin has, either.”
“She hasn’t. And she does need to eat. Would you join her?”
Teela didn’t look like she wanted food, but she knew Helen would fret if Kaylin didn’t eat. She gave a curt nod, which could
pass as agreement, before turning her blue glare to Kaylin.
“I’m going to change,” Kaylin said. “Before dinner.”
“I’d suggest you bathe as well,” Helen told her as she headed toward the stairs.
Teela was waiting patiently in the dining hall.
She was speaking with Mrs. Erickson, who looked up when Kaylin entered. “Is Annarion all right?” Mrs. Erickson inquired.
Asking Teela would have made more sense, but Kaylin winced as she took her seat. “He’s not happy. But his brother is alive, and I’m sure, when he regains consciousness, Annarion will be much better.”
“Mandoran is worried about him.”
“They’re all very close, as you no doubt noticed.” She really didn’t want to keep talking about the cohort in front of Mrs.
Erickson. If things went south—no, given luck, when—the last thing she wanted was Mrs. Erickson to be caught up in it.
“I did some baking for Annarion. I’ll take it up to him now, if you don’t mind.”
“You’re not going to eat?”
“I did eat,” Mrs. Erickson replied. “And I’m sure you two have Hawk business to discuss.”
“She’s impossible not to like,” Teela observed when Mrs. Erickson had gently closed the dining room door.
Kaylin nodded. “Mandoran and Terrano are very fond of her. I think Fallessian is as well, but I see less of him.”
“He is. All of them are, although Sedarias refuses to demonstrate any sign of it.” Teela exhaled, her lips losing the trace
of affectionate smile that Mrs. Erickson had caused. It was now time for business.
“Mandoran implied that my presence by your side in the High Halls would not be appreciated or advised.”
Kaylin nodded again. “I think things are political.”
Teela snorted.
“Fine, I deserved that. But I think it’s way more political than usual. The Consort doesn’t feel having you by my side would
protect me in the long run.”
“That is one opinion.”
“Teela—what’s going on at court? What’s happening? Does it have anything to do with Nightshade?”
“It is not of me that you must ask those questions,” Teela replied, speaking in High Barrani. She was annoyed. Kaylin wondered if she would respect the Consort’s advice.
Kaylin slid into High Barrani as well. “She felt that it would be wisest if I visit her wearing the Hawks’ tabard. Severn
is invited to accompany me.”
“She did, did she?” Teela was definitely annoyed.
Mandoran opened the dining room door. “We’d appreciate your opinion as an Arcanist,” he told Teela. “And you know she’s right.
There’s no way almost thirty Barrani soldiers went to Nightshade without intervention from one Lord of the High Court or another.
Whatever’s going on, it’s got something to do with deep politics. If it involves Nightshade, it could have roots in things that happened centuries ago.
“We’re too new. We spent those centuries in the Hallionne. You didn’t. You know this better than any of us: if Kaylin’s to
remain outside the Barrani political sphere, you’re not the person she should be with.”
Teela failed to reply—at least where Kaylin could hear it.
Nightshade had not miraculously regained consciousness.
Teela entered his rooms only after Andellen had both opened the door at her knock and invited her in. He treated Teela with
genuine respect, even given her casual clothing. Then again, she was wearing the sword, one third of The Three: Kariannos.
If she wasn’t expecting trouble of some kind, she wouldn’t be wearing it now.
“With your permission, I would like to examine Lord Nightshade,” she told Andellen in formal High Barrani.
“This way,” he replied, nodding. “Although Lord Annarion’s permission will no doubt need to be given as well.”
Teela nodded, as if Annarion hadn’t already granted that permission. She allowed Andellen to lead, although she knew the way:
she knew what the cohort knew.
Andellen gestured through the open arch beyond which Nightshade lay. Annarion was by his side.
Mandoran let Teela follow Andellen, hanging back to speak with Kaylin.
“We don’t expect Teela will be able to do anything you can’t do,” he told her. “But she’s always been a bit cagey about the
extent of her Arcanist knowledge, and it can’t hurt. You’re going to the High Halls, right?”
Kaylin nodded. “Is Teela?”
“We’re arguing about that right now. Her compromise was, she’ll go wearing the Hawks’ tabard as well. With Tain.”
Kaylin almost shrieked. “She can’t!”
“She can. Teela’s powerful enough that an assassin or two won’t make her break a sweat, and many Lords of the High Court loathe
her position as a Hawk. They consider it an outrageous insult to the Barrani as a whole. She is serving the Dragon Emperor. Given that, she feels it’ll draw ire, which will deflect any ire directed to you.”
Ugh. “You know how these things work. Yes, she’s right. It’ll piss people off. But powerful, petty people tend to take out
their issues on the distinctly less powerful. Which would be me.”
“You’re the Chosen,” Mandoran replied. “If anyone’s going to take the fall for thumbing their noses at the powerful, it’ll
likely be Tain.”
“Tell her not to come.”
Mandoran exhaled. “You better get going. She’s waiting.”
“Patiently?”
“No one’s died yet.”
Kaylin thought it unfair that Teela was annoyed at Kaylin for tarrying, and not at Mandoran, who was the entire reason she
hadn’t followed the Barrani Hawk immediately. Teela’s eyes were a dark blue, but not the midnight they sometimes became when
she was furious or deeply worried.
“You tried to heal him?”
Kaylin grimaced.
“I’ll take that as a yes, and you know full well why that is beyond foolish.”
“I’m not sure he’ll make it without some kind of serious intervention,” Kaylin countered, deflecting the why are you being stupid comment. “I intended to do what I could to keep him alive and pull out before things got too entangled.”
“Because you have so much practice with that.”
Kaylin shrugged. It was true. She didn’t start healing to half-ass it. She poured power into the injured body until the body
was no longer injured.
“I couldn’t actually connect with his body at all. I could touch the skin, but even then, it felt as if a layer of something
was between that skin and my hand.”
“Could you possibly do something about your cheek? The mark is bleeding.”
Kaylin nodded, aware that she usually healed quickly. “Helen, can you put a normal mirror in this room?”
Helen’s reply was action: a mirror appeared on the wall farthest from Nightshade’s bed. Kaylin headed to look at her face.
As practically everyone she’d encountered today had said, her cheek was bleeding. To Kaylin, the Erenne mark had become part
of the geography of her face, an awkward tattoo. The Marks of the Chosen caused far more discomfort, far more consistently.
The mark didn’t hurt, but it was bleeding along the lines of its nightshade shape, tracing the edges of the flower in a dark
red, as if the mark were etched into her skin, and blood ran along slender runnels. She touched it with her fingers; she was
definitely bleeding.
And that was enough of the mirror for now. She turned back to Teela as her arms started to break out in goose bumps. Teela
was now examining Nightshade.
Terrano joined her, flying—almost literally—into the room.
Kaylin winced; he’d already adjusted the shape, size, and color of his eyes; they took up a third of his face, almost merging into each other across the bridge of his nose.
She knew it didn’t cause him pain, but she was always going to find it disturbing.
“You said he had Meliannos in a tight grip when he fell?” Teela’s question was all Hawk in tone.
“Yes. Andellen resheathed it before we fled here—Tiamaris had to carry him in his claws.”
“I find no obvious external injuries. You examined him?”
“Not his entire body, no. Just exposed skin and the fabric of his clothing. I thought it might be poison until I tried to
heal him.”
“And now?”
Kaylin’s eyes narrowed as she met Teela’s. “. . . possibly magic. Magic—not Nightshade’s, according to Andellen—was used over
a wide area; it was an invisibility sphere. But it had a large signature.”
“You are certain.”
Kaylin nodded. “I know Arcanist tiaras contain accessible power—if an Arcanist is present and chooses to use it. But this
spell had a sigil.”
“Did you recognize it?”
“No.” She didn’t add of course not but felt it should have been obvious. The spell was definitely Barrani in origin, given the war bands, and the Hawks pretty
much never investigated Barrani-on-Barrani crimes. The Hawks had zero legal authority in the fiefs, even if the Barrani crimes
might theoretically fall under Imperial law had they occurred in the city proper.
“You sense no similar sigil anywhere near Lord Nightshade.”
Kaylin shook her head. “Whatever affected him doesn’t trip my magic allergies. Unlike what you’re doing now.”
“Helen?”
Helen materialized. “Yes, dear?”
“Do you sense magic emanating from Nightshade? Or internal to him?”
Helen was silent for a long beat. “Yes,” she finally said.