Cast in Flame

“Yes,” she heard herself say.

“You will consider it?”

She nodded. The small dragon, silent as cloth for most of the interview, raised his head and batted the side of Kaylin’s cheek with it.

“Good. I now have work to do.”

* * *

“Midwives’ guild?” Clint asked, as Kaylin trudged up the stairs of the Halls of Law.

“Dragons,” was her curt reply. If the midwives had kept her awake through the small hours of the night, she’d’ve had something useful to show for the lack of sleep.

“If you don’t want to see Dragons,” Tanner told her, “I suggest you avoid the office for the next couple of hours.”

“Why?”

“Bellusdeo is there.”

She hadn’t been in the apartments they shared at the palace when Kaylin had dragged her butt out of her rooms in the morning.

“Alone?”

“No. Lord Sanabalis is with her. So are six of the Imperial Guard. The color of Barrani eyes in the office is almost midnight blue.”

Could this day get any worse? “Thanks for the heads-up.” Kaylin considered turning tail and finding breakfast, but she didn’t have much money on hand.

“You’re going in?”

“Trouble’ll find me when I leave the office if I don’t; I might as well get paid for enduring it.”

* * *

The Imperial Guard always set the office, as a whole, on edge. Caitlin didn’t mind them, but they were so stiff, so officious, and so smugly superior, Caitlin was an island in the Halls. Bellusdeo was standing to one side of Marcus’s desk as Kaylin entered the office. Kaylin glanced, once, at the duty roster, saw her name—beside Severn’s—on the Elani beat, and allowed herself to relax. She wasn’t late. Yet.

She didn’t, however, see Severn.

Sanabalis was standing to one side of Bellusdeo; his eyes were a very clear orange, and if Dragons didn’t physically require sleep, he looked like he could personally use a week of it. The Imperial Guard were like breathing statues.

“Private,” Marcus growled. His sense of smell had probably alerted him to Kaylin’s presence, as there were too many tall people between them for her to even see him, seated as he was at his desk, and behind the perpetual stacks of paper that girded it. She couldn’t see the color of his eyes, but the tone of her rank pretty much gave it away. The Imperial Guard moved to allow her through.

She stood at attention in front of his desk and—as expected—his very orange eyes. She saw that he had reflexively gouged a few new runnels in the surface of that desk. Clearly, it hadn’t been a pleasant interview, whatever its subject.

“Your services are apparently being seconded by the Dragon Court.”

Standing at attention didn’t allow for the usual facial tics or gestures that indicated dismay. It was the only good thing she could say about it.

“You are apparently not content living at the Palace.”

It also didn’t allow for nuanced commentary, which was fine; surrounded by Imperial Guards, she didn’t feel particularly nuanced.

“Well?”

“No, sir.”

“And you intend to find other accommodations.”

“Yes, sir.”

“With a Lord of the Dragon Court.”

She didn’t hesitate; not with Marcus in his current mood. “Yes, sir.”

“The Dragon Court feels that such a search should not be an after-hours affair. Cognizant of the difficulties Lord Bellusdeo encountered the last time she chose to live outside of the Palace, they’ve taken it upon themselves to assure that your search for a new domicile is secure. You are therefore relieved of your regular duties until that search is completed. To Imperial satisfaction.”

“That is not,” Bellusdeo said, speaking for the first time since Kaylin had entered an otherwise raptly silent office, “what was said.” She stepped forward, until she was standing shoulder to shoulder with Kaylin, who, at attention, couldn’t otherwise turn to look at her. “Private Neya’s sense of responsibility to the Halls is quite strong; she understands the city far better than I, a recent refugee.” She used the Elantran word for refugee. Kaylin almost cringed to hear it. “If, in Private Neya’s considered opinion, such a search can be effectively conducted outside of her working hours, that is acceptable to all concerned.” The swish sound her hair made clearly indicated that Bellusdeo was pinning someone—or several someones—with a glare.

Sanabalis cleared his throat. In the silence of the office, it sounded like a distant earthquake. “Bellusdeo wishes to accompany Private Neya on her rounds, as she did before the private was sent out of the city to the West March.”

Great.

“Private,” Marcus barked. “At ease.”

As if. She did, however, relax her posture slightly. “Permission to speak freely, sir?”

Her Sergeant snorted. In general, there was nothing but free speech in the office.

“I’m not going on my rounds with a half dozen Imperial Guards as escort. Members of the Hawks don’t require babysitters, and we don’t want to imply they do; it’ll hurt the force. If the guards come with Bellusdeo and can’t be separated, I’ll take the time to find a new apartment. If they can be detached, I can find us a place to live on my own time.”

For some reason, this answer didn’t appear to please Marcus, although he clearly agreed with it.

“Is Lord Bellusdeo a Hawk?” a familiar voice asked. Kaylin couldn’t see the speaker, but cringed anyway. It was a Barrani voice. Mandoran’s. She hadn’t even seen him in the office, which answered her question about the day getting worse; clearly it could. A Barrani from the West March, frozen in time in the Barrani version of puberty, was now in the Halls of Law. She hoped Teela was standing on his feet.

“I am not,” was the frosty, Draconian reply.

“I was under the impression,” Mandoran continued, moving around the back side of Marcus’s desk with care to avoid the now-bristling Leontine that occupied it, “that tourists were not allowed to accompany on-duty Hawks.”

Marcus was either breathing heavily or trying to stifle a growl. Kaylin put money on the latter, and would have refused to bet on his chances of continued success.

“Lord Bellusdeo,” Sanabalis said, “is a member of the Dragon Court—the governing body that advises the Eternal Emperor. It is well within her purview to ask for—and receive—permission to inspect the forces assembled within the Halls in light of those duties.”

“Whereas I am merely a Barrani Lord visiting your fair city, and therefore have no responsibilities and no duties?”

Kaylin risked a glance at Sanabalis’s eyes. He was annoyed, but not yet angry.

Mandoran, having navigated the desk, came to stand beside Kaylin. He was grinning, and his eyes were almost green. Certainly greener than Barrani eyes generally were in this office. He winked at her. This did not make the Leontine Sergeant any less bristly.

“I see Teela hasn’t strangled you, yet,” she said, in as quiet a voice as she could.

“Why would she want to do that? At the moment, she’s not bored.”

“She is,” Teela said, “considering the concept of boredom with more deliberate care.”

Mandoran’s grin didn’t falter.

“Where is Corporal Handred?” Kaylin asked, hoping to stem the tide of this particular conversation.

She’d’ve had better luck with a tidal wave. “He’s closeted with the Wolflord,” Teela replied. “The duty roster hasn’t been updated, but apparently you and I are now covering Elani street.” She turned and offered a correct bow to Sanabalis. Unfortunately, Kaylin now recognized it as a correct bow for the Barrani High Court. “I ask that you overlook any impertinence from my guest. He is in a situation very similar to Lord Bellusdeo’s; the Empire—and the Eternal Emperor—did not exist when last he walked these lands.”

Bellusdeo frowned. “I was not aware that the Barrani could voluntarily enter the long sleep.”

“I’m certain there are many things that would surprise you about the Barrani,” Mandoran replied. His voice, however, had taken on both edge and chill, and his eyes had darkened to blue.

This predictably caused unrest among the Imperial Guard, subtle though it was; it caused Sanabalis’s eyes to shade toward a brighter orange, and it caused Teela’s eyes—Teela, who had made her way to the other side of Mandoran—to narrow. They were, on the other hand, already as blue as they could safely get.

Bellusdeo, however, lifted a brow; her eyes were no longer slightly orange. They were gold. She was amused.

Mandoran wasn’t.

Bellusdeo then turned to Teela. “If you have now had cause to reconsider your attitude toward boredom, I have not been so fortunate. Even for the Immortal, time can pass incredibly slowly. I believe I will find the patrol of great interest on this particular day.” She turned to Mandoran and added, “as a visitor to the city that is my current home, I bid you welcome. I am certain you will do nothing to disgrace yourself or your Court should you be forced to accept the company of a Dragon for an afternoon, and I am certain the Sergeant will relax his rules enough that you may join us.”

CHAPTER TWO

Although Bellusdeo had the last word, there were several hundred other words—thankfully none of them in native Dragon—before it. Kaylin thought it unfair when Sanabalis asked for a private word with her before she could leave the office.

The lack of justice didn’t notably ease when he marched her to the West Room in which her magic lessons were taught, and practically shut the door on her shoulder blades—without bothering to touch it. He did, on the other hand, activate the door ward with his own hand.

“What,” he asked, in Elantran, “do you think you’re doing?”

“I thought I was going on patrol in the Elani district.”

His eyes darkened a shade. “If there is ever a time to play games with a Dragon, Private, it is not now. The Emperor is not pleased by the current state of events.”

“Not even I could have missed that.”

He grimaced, and his eyes lightened a shade. “He has granted Bellusdeo his very reluctant permission to leave the Palace. He is placing the fate of the race in your hands.” And clearly, while Sanabalis held Kaylin in some affection, he didn’t consider her the appropriate receptacle for that responsibility.

She stared at him. She remembered to close her mouth after the first few seconds. “The same Emperor who initially thought I should be destroyed because I presented too great a risk?”

“We have not notably changed rulers in the interim.” His eyes gained more gold as he studied her face. “Tell me about this new Barrani. He is a recruit?”

She started to say no, stopped, and shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s a friend of Teela’s. An old friend.”

“He is to my eye one of the Barrani young.”

“She’s known him practically all her life,” she replied, trying to dodge the question he hadn’t yet asked.

“And you trust him?”

Did she? “I don’t know him well enough to trust him.” That was true. “But I trust Teela.”

“Teela is a Barrani High Lord. She owes her loyalty to—”

“She’s a Hawk, Sanabalis.”

Sanabalis was silent for a moment. “Kaylin, you have been the most difficult student I have ever accepted. The rewards are few; the frustration is legion. But you are not—as I’m certain Bellusdeo will tell you—boring. In my fashion, I have grown accustomed to your eccentricities. My opinion carries some weight at court. It will carry exactly none if Bellusdeo comes to harm.” He lifted a hand as Kaylin opened her mouth. “Yes, I am aware that she is not a child. So, too, is the Emperor.

“But you have told anyone who will listen that you are no longer a child, either. The Emperor therefore wishes you to understand what is at risk for you. Bellusdeo has a home in the Palace. She will be as safe there as she would be—”

“In a grave.”

Silence.

Kaylin watched the color of Dragon eyes closely; she’d folded her arms and widened her stance without conscious intent. But if Sanabalis felt insulted, it didn’t anger him; the color remained a constant, pale orange.

“You do not understand the politics of the Dragon Court.”

“Then I recommend better information be taught in racial-integration classes.” She exhaled through clenched teeth and forced herself to relax. “Look, Sanabalis, I don’t understand the problem. The Arkon had no objections. He doesn’t think Bellusdeo can be happy in the Palace. Not right now.”

“The Arkon is being astonishingly sentimental for one of our kind.”

“No, he’s just being perceptive. I don’t know what went down at the end of all the wars. I don’t know what choices the surviving Dragons were given—but I’m guessing that many of the Dragons didn’t survive to make that choice. I don’t know what choice Bellusdeo has been offered—but I’m guessing almost none. She’s the only female Dragon. She’s not being asked to choose between death and eternal servitude.” He started to speak, and she held up one hand. “She understands what’s at stake. She has a sense of responsibility. But she’s not a piece of property. The Emperor already has a hoard.”

“No choice has been demanded of Bellusdeo.”

“That’s not the way Diarmat sees it.”

One pale brow rose into an equally pale hairline.

“...Lord Diarmat.”

“Lord Diarmat is concerned for the rule of law. The Emperor’s law. He is younger than the Arkon, and he is aware that female Dragons are not an entirely different species.”

“They’re not technically a different species at all.”

“Exactly. Lord Diarmat is the only member of the Dragon Court who will risk open hostility to make that point. Bellusdeo is a Dragon, but she is not accorded the responsibilities that exist, for Dragons, in the Empire.”

“Meaning she’s not forced to swear the same oath the rest of you swore.”

“Yes.” Sanabalis fell silent. He did not, however, give Kaylin permission to depart, and she was very much aware, given the turn of the day’s events—or at least the evening’s prior—that permission was required. “She is not happy,” he surprised her by saying.

Kaylin waited.

“It may come as a surprise to you, but her happiness is of some concern to the Emperor; he balances it with a desire for her safety that is second only to his desire for the safety of his hoard. If you will not take the detachment of guards, I will have them dismissed. Go on your patrol. I will arrange a suitable escort for your...apartment hunting.”

“Who would that be?”

He ran his hand over his eyes. “In all likelihood, Private Neya, me. I may attempt to saddle Lord Emmerian with that duty; he has not, to my knowledge, offended Bellusdeo in the last several weeks. Largely,” he added, with a more toothy grin, “because he has avoided her entirely.”

* * *

“Why,” Teela said, in the clipped, cool voice that implied annoyance, “are you sulking?”

“I’m not sulking.” Kaylin did not kick a stone, which took effort.

Mandoran grinned. “You don’t look like you’re sulking to me—but I’m not as conversant with mortal expressions. Why exactly do your eyes stay that fixed color?”

“Human.”

“Doesn’t it make the other mortals wonder if you’re not just animals that talk?”

“Frequently.” She reached out and caught Bellusdeo’s elbow as the Dragon drew breath; it was the kind of slow, heavy breath which sometimes preceded fire. “Either that or it makes them suspicious, because clearly we’re hiding something. Or we’re insane.”

“Well, I won’t argue that,” he replied. He was looking at the buildings that lined the streets, the people that walked them, the stray cats and dogs, and the clouds that scudded overhead, as if everything was both new and fascinating. It probably was. He had spent the past many centuries trapped inside the green, which had a tenuous understanding of physical form. At best. His eyes were a shade of blue-green, and he kept to the side of Teela that happened to be farthest from the Dragon. Kaylin had inserted herself between Teela and Bellusdeo, which meant Mandoran and Bellusdeo were as far apart as they could be while still heading in the same general direction.

They both turned heads, though.

Mandoran wasn’t encumbered by the regulation tabard that Teela wore, and Bellusdeo looked far more like a Lord of the Dragon Court—by dress, at least—than the average pedestrian. Most women who could afford to dress the way she did didn’t walk anywhere—they took carriages, and usually stayed behind their guards and footmen.

Kaylin grimaced. She almost wished Bellusdeo were in one of those carriages, because Elani street was the home of wheedling, enterprising frauds, most of whom could happily accost anyone that appeared to have money.

They were usually better behaved when their victims had Hawks as escorts. Mandoran, on the other hand, didn’t appear to understand that he was a victim. He responded to the offers—in this case, fortune-telling—with unfeigned curiosity and quick delight.

Teela raised a brow. Mandoran stiffened. Neither spoke out loud. They didn’t have to, if they wanted their conversation to be private; they knew each other’s true names. It had been centuries since either had had call to use them, if one ignored the past few weeks.

“Teela,” Mandoran said, “doesn’t want me to have fun here.”

“She’s working. You’ll add to the paperwork if you do.”

“Yes, that seems to be one of her fears. The other is attempting to throw me into...jail if I misbehave?”

“I imagine that would be a lot of fun,” Kaylin replied.

“I’ve offered to visit the High Halls instead of the city streets,” was his cheerful counter. “There, it won’t matter if foolish or stupid people die; it’s considered a form of suicide, and it isn’t Teela’s job to prevent that.”

“Why did we think this was a good idea?” Kaylin asked her fellow Hawk.

“I never thought it was a good idea, if I recall. I merely pointed out that compared to your induction into the Hawks, Mandoran was far less likely to be in danger. Or to indirectly cause it. I was perhaps optimistic about the latter.”

Mandoran snorted. So did Bellusdeo.

“I thought you were here to keep an eye on Annarion.”

At that, Mandoran’s smile dimmed. The color of his eyes shifted, but not into the midnight blue that generally meant upcoming injury or death. He glanced at Teela; Teela was studying the occupants of Elani street as if they were fascinating, dangerous, or both.

“You will have to tell me,” Bellusdeo said to Kaylin, “exactly what did happen on your pilgrimage. It seems you’ve acquired companions.”

“They’re Teela’s companions, not mine. And there are—at the moment—two of them in the city. You’ve met Mandoran. He’s the outgoing, friendly one with the questionable sense of humor.”

“It seems a fairly standard Barrani sense of humor, if less subtle than rumored.”

“He’s young for his age.”

“Not so young,” Mandoran cut in, “that he enjoys being talked about in the third person.”

“And not so mature,” the Dragon countered, “that he doesn’t enjoy talking about other people present in the same way.”

He grinned. His eyes were still a wary blue. “Fair enough.” He spoke Elantran. Kaylin doubted a similar phrase existed in Barrani.

“Where is Annarion anyway?”

“Kitling.”

Mandoran raised a black brow. “He’s visiting his brother.”

Nightshade.

“And no, before you ask, it’s not going well.”

“Why didn’t you go with him?”

“I wasn’t invited. Or rather, I was specifically not invited. Lord Calarnenne was willing to entertain Teela, but for some reason, Teela didn’t choose to accept his invitation.”

“I am uninterested in playing games of power with Nightshade.”

“But Annarion—”

“Is not in danger. Whatever else Nightshade intends in future, the death of his youngest brother is no part of his plan. It is safe for Annarion to rage only in the absence of witnesses. Nightshade didn’t invite me because he was concerned for Annarion’s safety; he wished to confine Annarion’s wrath. I,” she added, with a slender, sharp smile, “did not.” She glanced pointedly at the mark Nightshade had left on Kaylin’s cheek. It was just so much skin to the younger Hawk, but it never failed to annoy Teela.

“Heads up. Margot on the prowl,” Teela added.

Margot was possibly the person on Elani street Kaylin disliked the most, not that there was any shortage of rivals for that position. She was a tall, gorgeous redhead, and she made the color look natural. She was statuesque, her skin was fair, her eyes striking, and she could milk money out of stone by oozing wisdom and charm.

Neither of which Kaylin privately believed she had.

“She won’t come here,” Kaylin replied. “She’s seen me.”

If Kaylin played the least-favorite game, so did Margot. Kaylin was on the top of the Hawk’s list, and possibly near the top three across the board. She still blamed Kaylin for the loss of one of her most lucrative clients, which cost Kaylin no sleep at night, ever.

“Pretty,” Mandoran said, which didn’t help. Margot was not an idiot, whatever else one could call her; she cast an equally appreciative look at Mandoran, but kept her distance. Barrani affairs were seldom safe for mortals, and attempting to bilk a Barrani out of money was a mug’s game; it required stupidity and overbearing ego, and Margot only had one of the two. She pretty much failed to see Kaylin as Kaylin sauntered past.

“She is attractive,” Teela said—which was obviously meant to irritate Kaylin, because there wasn’t any other reason to say it out loud.

Bellusdeo shook her head. “By mortal standards, perhaps, but there’s a brittle edge to the line of her mouth I find unappealing.”

“Guys,” Kaylin snapped. “A little less ogling and a little more patrolling.”

“I’m not patrolling,” Mandoran chuckled.

“Technically, you’re not here.”

He laughed. “You know,” he said, “I think, when you have a place of your own, I’m going to be visiting a lot. You really are much less stodgy than Teela’s become.”

“Teela is no one’s definition of ‘stodgy.’”

“Kaylin will not be living on her own, and I don’t do drop-ins,” Bellusdeo pointed out. Her eyes remained golden. Mandoran’s had edged toward green, but a stubborn streak of blue persisted. If he eventually chose to be comfortable around a Dragon, it wasn’t going to be today.

He shrugged. “From the sound of it, you’re not going to find much of a place of your own anyway.”

“I can find a place,” Kaylin said. “And Bellusdeo, despite appearances, doesn’t require something palatial or even regal, given where we were living before.”

“Oh, it’s not your friend that’s going to be the problem.” He glanced at Teela’s expressionless face, and added, “on the other hand, it could be worse for you. You could be living with Tain.” His grimace looked nothing like a Barrani expression.

Teela cleared her throat. Loudly.

“You’re living with Tain?”

“If you can call it living, yes. For some reason, he doesn’t seem to want me to see much of your fair city. I want,” he added, “to visit the Leontines I hear you have living here. I didn’t even know they could function in cities. But your Sergeant seems fine wearing clothes.”

Bellusdeo glanced at Kaylin. Kaylin turned a tight-lipped stare on Teela, who shrugged. “Surely you expected this?” the Barrani Hawk asked. “You know he hasn’t lived in a mortal city before; he certainly hasn’t lived in this one.”

“The Leontines,” Kaylin told Mandoran, in chilly Barrani, “are not animals. Nor are the humans. The Aerians are not birds. This is a city, not a zoo—and none of its inhabitants are here to be stared at through cage bars.”

“Kitling.”

Mandoran chuckled. “My apologies, Lord Kaylin. I seem to have touched a sensitive spot.”

“You’ve reminded me of all the things I hate about Immortals. I don’t know if you’d consider that a sensitive point or not.” She didn’t much care, either. The small dragon lifted a head and squawked. When Kaylin, still tight-lipped, ignored him, he nipped her ear.