with a very well-groomed beard; his hair had grayed enough to be salt-and-pepper, but not enough to be white.
She hesitated for a moment, and managed to stop herself from running up to the desk and demanding to know where Caitlin was. But it was hard. Had Severn not been at her side, it might well have been impossible.
The rest of the office seemed to have taken the change in stride, if you didn’t notice the silence that hovered above a group of people famed for their gossip and chatter. One or two of them met her eyes in silence.
“Who is he?” she asked Severn, her voice a muted whisper.
“Caitlin’s replacement. Sergeant Mallory wished to work with a man who’s accustomed to him. It comes with the job,” he added, before she could speak. “His name is Kevan Smithson.”
“He worked in Missing Persons?”
“For eight years. Before that, he was part of the office pool here. Let’s get this over with,” he said, and began to walk toward the desk that Mallory now occupied.
She’d burn in hell before she called it his desk.
“Corporal Handred,” Sergeant Mallory said, looking up from his paperwork. Kaylin was barely willing to give him this: it was half the size of the stack she’d last seen, and it was a good deal more tidy. “Private Neya.” He rose as he said her name. She stood at attention. She wasn’t particularly good at standing at attention on most days, but on most days, it wasn’t demanded.
He didn’t, however, seem to notice. “You are both on call at the Imperial Palace.”
“Sir,” Severn replied.
“I have attempted to ascertain the duration of your work at the Palace, but the Imperial Court could not be precise.” He turned, then, to look at Kaylin. “You are not the Hawk I would have chosen for that duty,” he said, reaching behind him to pick up a folder. There was no immediately visible writing on it, but Kaylin had a pretty good idea of what it contained. “And I have spoken with the Hawklord about this matter. Apparently, you were specifically requested.”
“Sir,” she said, hoping she sounded as curt—and as correct—as Severn.
“You will report to the office before you leave for the Palace while you have duties there.”
“Sir.”
“And you will tender a report of your activities to Mr. Smithson at the end of each day.”
“It’s neither an investigation nor an arrest,” she told him.
“Yes. I’m aware of that. But given the delicate nature of relations with the Palace, and given the probability that I will be called upon to explain your behavior while there, I require a report.
“Ah, and I wish you to lift your right arm.”
She did as he ordered.
He walked over to her and rolled up her sleeve. The golden surface of the bracer caught the ambient light, reflecting it perfectly. “I will also require you to show proof of your compliance with the Hawklord’s orders when you report.
“You are aware, perhaps, that the former Sergeant and I did not see eye to eye on many things. I have spent some time perusing your file,” he said, lifting and waving it as if it were a red flag and Kaylin were a bull, “and while I better understand some of his decisions with regards to your behavior, I feel that he placed too much emphasis on your possible import.
“I will be watching you, Private Neya. Do one thing to embarrass this department, and you will no longer be part of it. Is that understood?”
“Sir.”
“Yes or no, Private.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. I’m glad we understand each other. Dismissed.”
Kaylin took a breath and walked away from his desk.
“Private! That is not the way to the carriage yards.”
She turned on heel. “No, sir. I’m reporting to the Hawklord.”
“No, Private, you are not. I report to the Hawklord. You report to me. Is that clear?”
She was almost speechless. Having to walk past Mallory—and be interrogated by him—was one thing. Being told that all communication between the Hawklord and herself was forbidden was another. Her hands slid up to her hips.
Severn stepped on her foot. She met his gaze and saw the warning in it.
Was about to ignore it entirely when Severn said, “If you’re cashiered, you can’t help Marcus.”
“Sir,” she said, in a slightly strangled tone of voice.
“Good. Do not be late for your assignment.” He went back to the desk that, damn it all, he shouldn’t be behind, and took the chair. “I look forward to your report this evening.”
“Kaylin, I don’t think this is a good idea,” Severn told her quietly. “There’s every chance that Mallory will keep an eye on you for the first couple of weeks.”
Kaylin said nothing. Instead of making her way to the carriage yards, she had made her way to the Aerie. In it, high above her head, and just below the vaulted ceilings, the Aerians were flying. She knew most of them by name. Certainly all of them on sight.
“I know what I’m doing,” she told him, each word a little bolt of fury.
“I know what you intend to do as well,” he replied. “I just don’t think it’s wise.”
“I’m not asking you to come.”
“No. You are not, however, on your way to the Palace.”
“Rennick won’t even be awake.”
“True.”
“So there’s no point in going there now.”
“Less true,” Severn said.
“You didn’t tell Mallory that we’re not required until well past lunch?”
“No. I thought we might make use of the time.”
“I am.”
“In less obvious disregard of your superior officer’s orders.”
She made her way to the middle of the Aerie and waited. In about five minutes, three of the flying Aerians began to circle lower, and eventually they landed. Two of them were Hawks; one was a Wolf. The Wolf nodded carefully at Severn, who returned the nod.
“If the change of leadership doesn’t suit you, Corporal Handred, the Wolves are waiting.”
“It’s an internal matter,” Severn replied, with care. “But I’ll remember what you’ve said.”
The
