Cast in Peril

Of course, she could only think something as inane as this because they weren’t angry at her. Even furious, however, Teela noted that she was carrying something small in her hands. “What is that? A glass dragon?”

Bellusdeo snorted smoke.

Kaylin, however, understood the question. “No,” she said quietly. “It’s alive.”

Teela’s eyes lightened to a more familiar blue; Tain’s, however, didn’t budge. “What is it, and where did you find it at a time like this?”

“It hatched from a very large egg.”

“An egg? The one in your apartment?”

Remembering that Teela had not only seen the egg but by all reports burned her hand when trying to touch it, Kaylin chose a nod as the safest bet. When Teela’s stare wandered into glare territory, she added more words.

“It’s a— I don’t know what it is. Bellusdeo thinks it’s a familiar.”

The silence was like a knife: long and sharp.

Tain turned to Teela. “Please tell me I did not hear what she just said.”

Teela was staring at Kaylin’s hands. “I think,” Teela told her, “we’ll need to hear the longer version of that answer.” She glanced at Marcus’s desk. “It will, unfortunately, have to wait.”

* * *

Taking a deep breath, Kaylin headed to Marcus’s desk. She couldn’t really stand at attention, and the usual at-ease posture wasn’t going to work, either, unless she wanted to drop the sleeping dragon on the ground. Marcus actually looked at her hands. He didn’t, however, ask her what she was carrying. More important, he didn’t tell her to get rid of it. He left his chair and she saw deep scores in both the armrests. She winced. Marcus had to replace his desk on a relatively frequent basis. He seldom had to replace his chair.

He walked around the desk toward Kaylin, who instantly lifted her chin to expose her throat. His mood was bad enough that he even reached for it, although he lowered his hands before he touched skin. “Did you destroy your apartment?” he asked in a rumbling growl of a voice.

“No, sir.”

“Then why are you exposing your throat?”

Because you’re in the worst mood I think I’ve ever seen you in? She thought it massively unfair that she was the one who’d almost been killed and everyone was more than happy to vent their rage and fury at that fact on her. Kaylin, still aware that no one had yet denied her the promotion she desperately wanted, kept that one on the right side of her mouth. He was in a bad enough mood that he didn’t wait for an answer, which was good, because she was too tired to come up with one. She was also still very cold—except for her hands.

As if she could hear the thought from across the office, Caitlin appeared with a blanket. She wrapped it around Kaylin’s shoulders and knotted two corners just under her chin. She also paused to look at the small, translucent creature in Kaylin’s hands. “He is adorable, dear,” she said.

Bellusdeo, silent and unassailed by Marcus in a fury, snorted.

“I’ll get you something warm to drink. The Hawklord should be down— Ah, there he is.”

* * *

The entire office was like a living catalog of racial foul moods. The Hawklord’s eyes were as dark as Teela’s, and his wings were high, the arches poised as if to strike. “Private,” he said in a much friendlier voice than the Sergeant had used. “You’re alive.”

“Yes, sir.”

He looked at her hands. “If the item you are carrying is not essential, I suggest you set it down somewhere safe.”

She swallowed. “It’s essential.”

“I see. Perhaps, at a later point in time, you can tell me where, in the regulations, carrying glass is considered essential for performance of your duties.”

“Yes, sir.”

“What happened?”

“We went home to change for the etiquette lessons. While we were there—” She took a deep breath, held it, and continued. “While we were there, something was thrown or shot into the apartment through the window.”

“The window was open?”

“No, sir. The shutters were closed, but they’re really warped, so they’re only tied shut. Sometimes they pop loose—”

He lifted a hand. “Continue.”

“I think an Arcane bomb landed in the room.”

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.

They were less impressively poker-faced when they caught sight of the glass dragon perched on her shoulder, but only one man was foolish enough to ask, and he didn’t get more of an answer than Sanabalis’s curt dismissal.

“Private,” the Dragon Lord said to Kaylin as the mages who were technically junior to him in every conceivable way did the polite version of scattering, “you will spend the evening in the Palace in our most secure chambers.”

“How much magic is in your secure chambers?” Kaylin asked, trying not to cringe.

“Not enough, I’m certain, to be unbearably uncomfortable.”

“Meaning I can live with the discomfort.”

“If you feel any, yes. I do not require that you do this in silence; I require that you do it where no Dragon—except Lady Bellusdeo—is in danger of hearing you.”

* * *

Sanabalis led them into the Palace, where a by-now familiar man in a perfectly tailored suit was waiting. He bowed to Sanabalis, bowed far more deeply to Bellusdeo, and then led them to a part of the Palace that Kaylin vaguely recognized: it was where Marcus’s wives had briefly stayed.

“These will be your rooms,” he told both Kaylin and Bellusdeo. “If you prefer separate quarters—”

“We don’t,” Bellusdeo replied before Kaylin could gratefully accept the offer.

“Very good.” He bowed, making clear by this gesture that Kaylin’s preferences counted for the usual nothing. “Food will be provided at the usual mealtimes. If you require specific food or desire it on a different schedule, that can be accommodated. If there are any specific likes or dislikes—”

Kaylin opened her mouth; Bellusdeo lifted her hand. Clearly her hand was also more important. “We are satisfied. Thank you.”

The man then bowed and left them alone—with Sanabalis.

“He was just getting to the good part,” Kaylin told Bellusdeo.

“Which part would that be?”

“The part where I get to choose whatever it is I’m being fed.”

“Given the quality of what you do eat, I believe you’ll survive your silence.” She turned to Sanabalis. “Please don’t let us detain you.”

Sanabalis, whose eyes were still orange, met her dismissal impassively; he also folded his arms across his chest.

“Yes?”

“The Emperor requests a moment of your time.”

Kaylin froze.

“Not yours, Private. He merely wishes to ascertain that Bellusdeo is, in fact, unharmed. He was…most upset…when word of the attack reached the Palace.”

“He must have been if he mobilized half the Dragon Court so quickly.”

“That mobilization was not a response to the attack,” was the curt reply. “And no, before you ask, I’m not at liberty to discuss it. Lady Bellusdeo?”

“I would of course be both honored and delighted to speak with the Eternal Emperor. I do, however, have one request.”

“And that?”

“I believe Kaylin should speak with the Arkon, unless the moment of time the Emperor requests also involves the Arkon’s presence.”

“It does not, and I believe your request can easily be accommodated. We will escort the Private to the Library before you speak with the Emperor, if that will suffice. Corporal, if you would care to accompany us?”

“I wouldn’t dream of missing it.” There were whole days when Kaylin hated Dragons.

* * *

The Arkon was not, in fact, in a red-eyed, raging fury. He was only barely bronze-eyed, and given any other Immortal she’d seen this evening, that was a blessing; it wasn’t as if the Arkon ever looked happy to see her. He did, however, say, “I see the reports of your demise were exaggerated.”

Kaylin’s eyes rounded. “Someone told you I was dead?”

“It was rumored that you were, in fact, dead.”

“You didn’t believe it.”

“I believe there is a phrase that is in common usage among your kind: ‘Only the good die young.’” The Arkon was seated at a table in the main Library, surrounded by books, scrolls, and a handful of very expensive crystals, none of which were activated. He had a mirror to the left, buttressed by books; it, too, was inactive. Seeing the direction of Kaylin’s glance, the Arkon said, “Yes, I was about to resume my work.” Frowning, he added, “What exactly are you carrying?”

“Sanabalis, did you want to stay for this part?”

The Arkon cleared his throat loudly.

“Lord Sanabalis, sorry.” The small dragon sat up in her hands but spread his translucent wings as he did. “This is a—hatchling.”

“It looks remarkably like a tiny, glass dragon.”

Bellusdeo rolled her eyes; she did not, however, snort. “Lannagaros, your eyesight is clearly failing.”

The Arkon winced. “Bellusdeo, I would appreciate it if you would observe correct form; I am the Arkon.”

She raised a pale brow but said nothing.

“Private Neya?”

“You remember there was a lot of trouble caused by the magical flux of the portal that eventually opened in Elani?”

“Indeed.”

“It affected a number of different things. Among them, deliveries—of babies,” she added, because from the Arkon’s expression, the distinction needed to be made. “Not, apparently, pregnancies; any baby born in the area after the portal had opened was normal.”

He nodded.

“One of the births produced an egg, rather than a normal infant. The father wasn’t interested in keeping the egg, and it was handed to me. I was going to give it to Evanton, but I never had the chance; Elani still hasn’t been fully opened to normal pedestrian traffic, and Evanton’s been—busy.”

“So you kept the egg.”

“I did.”

“She took care of it,” Bellusdeo interjected, “as if she’d laid it herself.”

“Bellusdeo, don’t you have somewhere else you have to be?” Kaylin asked sharply.

“Apparently, yes, but I’m certain that the question of my survival—and possibly yours by extension—will arise, and any information the Arkon can provide lessens the chance that you will personally be called to the audience chamber.”

Wincing, Kaylin apologized.

“How did you incubate the egg?”

“In a totally inadequate way,” Bellusdeo replied. “It does not appear to have suffered.”

The small dragon stretched before climbing up Kaylin’s arm, where it sort of clung to her left shoulder; it draped the rest of its body across the back of her neck; its head, it perched on her right. It wuffled in her ear.

The Arkon frowned. “Records,” he said, and the mirror’s surface shivered. The room’s reflection faded from view. “Lizards. Winged lizards. Translucent lizards.” He turned and readjusted the mirror so that it faced Kaylin full-on. “Capture information and attempt to match.” He paused and then added, “All archives.” Turning back to Kaylin, he said, “I will not dispute Bellusdeo’s comment on the adequacy of your incubation decisions, but the egg clearly hatched, and its occupant is clearly alive.” He glanced at Bellusdeo before returning his attention to Kaylin; given that Bellusdeo had answered most of his questions before Kaylin could finish taking a breath, this wasn’t surprising. “When did the egg hatch?”

“Well, that’s the strange thing.”

Bellusdeo snorted. For an Immortal she was really short on patience; Kaylin tried to imagine her as the Queen of anything and gave up—although, admittedly, the idea of Bellusdeo being Queen had one appeal: she wasn’t likely to chew the heads off her Court for their lack of appropriate etiquette.

“The egg didn’t hatch until the bomb exploded in the center of the apartment.”

The Arkon froze. Sanabalis lifted a hand to the bridge of his nose; his eyes, however, were now about the same bronze as the Arkon’s.

“Let me be clear. You are telling me that the egg’s hatching was contingent on the explosion of an Arcane bomb?”

“No. I’m telling you the egg hatched when the bomb exploded. It may have cracked the shell.”

The Arkon turned to glare at Bellusdeo. “I trust you are enjoying yourself, Lady Bellusdeo?”