21 #3
“Dressed like that? It is not only possible but mandatory. He has claimed you as kyuthe. You are his chosen kin, and your deportment and manners will reflect on him.” Teela exhaled. “But you will have to see him
while he is here. He understands that you have duties to the Imperial Halls of Law; duties to kin do not supersede duties
to lord—in this case, the Emperor. He will, however, expect that you reach out on your own time and in an appropriate fashion.
“There are days,” she added, in Elantran, “where I curse the very existence of my people.” This was clearly one of them. “I
know we’ve made clear that Barrani politics are deadly games—for Barrani. We’d like you to avoid as much of them as possible.”
“She is,” Severn said.
Teela glanced at him before shrugging. “Let’s get this over with.”
The equivalent of Helen’s parlor was on the first floor of the tiered upper layers of the tree, which Kaylin considered a
kindness to guests. The stairs that grew, in an upward spiral, from the tree’s trunk weren’t girded by something as simple
as a railing. They had to walk—or Kaylin did—as close to the trunk as possible as they made their way up. She wondered if
Barrani ever had a fear of heights.
Then again, Severn didn’t.
But the stairs opened up onto a large platform, the trunk being its central pillar as it continued up into the boughs. Above
their heads was a knotwork of twined branches, the bark a pale brown with ivory flecks. Leaves and much smaller branches had
budded or blossomed, lending color for the gaze of those who might choose to look up. There was no stone; the walls, such
as they were, were implied by leaves and vines. Kaylin had no doubt she could be punted through those walls.
A Barrani man was seated on a long, wide couch. Next to him, rising almost the instant she caught sight of visitors, was Yvonne.
Teela cleared her throat.
Right. Invitation. They were here for a reason. Kaylin, however, smiled at Yvonne. Yvonne, eyes green with flecks of blue,
smiled back; the blue dimmed. She really reminded Kaylin of Serralyn.
“I’m sorry to bother you so soon,” Kaylin began.
“An’Tellarus has been expecting your invitation since you left.”
Kaylin winced. “Not patiently, I assume?”
To Kaylin’s surprise, Ollarin, who had not yet introduced himself, chuckled. Out loud. “I see you did meet her.”
“I’m Corporal Kaylin Neya. This is my partner, Corporal Severn Handred. And this is Corporal Teela Danelle. We serve the Hawks.”
“I am Ollarin, An’Sennarin. And you have met my friend, Yvonne of Sennarin.” Yvonne’s eyes widened, but only a little; clearly
that wasn’t the name she was used to hearing. “But you are not here on official business, surely?”
“No.” Kaylin took a risk. “We thought there’d be less trouble if we came as mortal Hawks.”
“And not more trouble if An’Teela did?”
Teela smiled her I’d like to see them try smile, which wasn’t exactly comforting. It seemed to bounce off An’Sennarin. “We did not mean to trouble you,” Teela said to Ollarin. “But we were informed that Yvonne’s residence is in the Sennarin quarters. The letter is meant for Yvonne.”
Kaylin immediately crossed the distance that separated her from the Barrani young woman. “I wrote it myself.” She handed Yvonne
the letter. “If it’s okay with you, we’d like to wait for your reply. I don’t like the High Halls on the best of days, but
things seem almost as tense as they were the first time I visited.”
“When was that?”
Kaylin frowned. “A year ago? Maybe less?”
“Kaylin,” Severn added, “has two modes of remembering dates. Anything that happened up to three weeks ago is relatively solid.
Anything that happened more than three weeks ago could be months or years in the past.”
Kaylin glared in Severn’s direction, but she understood, from his comment, that he knew both of these people—the lord and
the servant—and liked them both. Or trusted them both, inasmuch as one could trust Barrani. It surprised her. If he’d met
them in the past, it wasn’t as a Hawk. “I have mortal memory.”
“We both have mortal memory,” Severn replied. “Regardless, Kaylin’s invitation is genuine and harmless. How impatient was
An’Tellarus?”
“She’s not with us at the moment,” An’Sennarin replied.
“Barely,” Yvonne added. “I think she expected you to go home yesterday and write out a precise invitation immediately. And
send it by courier. Or magic.”
“Not magic,” Teela said. “That type of delivery must be very carefully arranged.”
“Most people would just mirror—but the sentient buildings don’t seem to be fond of the mirror network.”
Yvonne rolled her eyes. “They like having things in writing, because it serves as evidence if things go badly.”
“Mirrors can be recorded—we have Records in the Halls of Law. Mirror calls are captured and can be reviewed on command. Well, on someone’s command.”
“An’Tellarus isn’t terribly modern,” Yvonne said. “But as she points out, she doesn’t aspire to modernity. She just wants
to outlive every Barrani she’s ever met who dared to offend her or treat her with less respect than her due.”
Having met her, Kaylin thought that described most of the Barrani, because An’Tellarus was larger than life and appeared to
expect large amounts of respect. And obedience.
“It is unlikely to make her life boring,” Teela said, a smile enfolding the words. Her eyes were still blue, but less dark.
“I would love to know how you came to be in her service.”
“Oh—Ollarin recommended me. Or asked her if she could teach me how to survive in this mess of a giant stone building.”
“You have not been her student for very long, have you?” But her smile lost its edge as she looked at Yvonne.
“Feels like half a century,” Yvonne replied, grimacing. She didn’t take Teela’s barbed question to heart. “But no. Things
are more complicated in the High Halls. I’m allowed less perfect behavior than Ollarin because I’m not a Lord of the High
Court, and I’ve not been called to take the Test of Name. I won’t take it,” she added, folding her arms.
“No?”
“Well, I hear failure is no longer a death sentence, but if my behavior isn’t good enough—and it isn’t, I admit it—for a servant
in the High Halls, it’s definitely not good enough for a lord. If I want to exist as I’ve existed for almost all of my life,
I’d need to be as powerful as An’Tellarus or An’Teela. I’m never going to be that powerful. Being a lord only makes my failures
more obvious; it doesn’t protect me from them.”
Kaylin liked Yvonne. Yvonne’s attitude about the High Court was pretty similar to Kaylin’s attitude about the Hawks.
She wanted to be corporal because it was a rank that didn’t differ hugely from her previous rank—except for the pay, which was better.
She didn’t want to be sergeant or Hawklord.
Yes, they gave the orders, and yes, she had to obey them, but . . . they were good at their
jobs, and so much of those jobs seemed to be babysitting.
Or shredding hardwood desks to splinters, but she couldn’t manage that either.
“I’m a Lord of the High Court by accident,” Kaylin told Yvonne, matching her prior brief grimace. “I’d have to be—can you
imagine the High Court encouraging the merely mortal to go take a test that will give them the status the lords there share?”
Yvonne shook her head. “In the old days, I could imagine it would be a way of disposing of inconvenient mortals, though.”
Given what had existed at the heart of that test? Yes. She was right. “Inconvenient Barrani, too. Do you have to check with
An’Tellarus before you give us an answer?”
Yvonne nodded.
“Kaylin will wait here for your return,” Teela said. She then frowned. “If it is acceptable to you, I will escort you.”
It was clearly acceptable to both Yvonne and Ollarin, and the Hawk and Yvonne headed down the stairs.