sir.”
“How?”
“That’s part of why we’re here—”
“Stick with this part, for now. Report on the rest later.”
“Yes, sir.” She took a deep breath. “Lady Alyssa arrived for her usual appointment. Today, Margot chose to tell her that her father, Garavan Larienne, was to be arrested for embezzlement.”
Breathing would have made more noise than the combined contents of the office now did.
“Let me get this straight. Margot told Alyssa Larienne that the Chancellor of the Exchequer was to be arraigned for embezzlement.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And your part in this was?”
“Lady Alyssa demanded that I arrest Margot for slander. I personally would love to arrest Margot for anything she could possibly—”
Marcus flexed his claws. Kaylin took this as a sign that she should answer his questions, and only his questions. “I asked Lady Alyssa what Margot had said. She declined to repeat it. She did not decline to repeat her demand.”
Marcus’s eyes were still orange.
“She did, however, take offense at the idea that I didn’t immediately recognize the crest on her carriage or her own import, since obviously either of those would lead me to arrest Margot on the spot, and said she would take it up with Lord Grammayre personally.”
Marcus growled. “This is extremely unfortunate. I would like you to request that Margot come into the office for debriefing.”
Kaylin’s jaw nearly dropped. “What?”
“Which part of that sentence wasn’t clear?”
Severn cleared his throat. “When would you like us to request Margot’s cooperation with the Halls of Law?”
“After you finish speaking with Lord Grammayre. You’re early,” he added, his eyes narrowing. “Please tell me there is no other emergency in Elani.” Oddly enough, when he said this, his eyes began to shade into a more acceptable bronze.
Severn was notably silent.
“It would save me paperwork and ulcers if I just chained you to a desk, Private. Go talk to the Hawklord. Now.”
“Private,” Kaylin whispered, as they walked quickly up the spiral staircase. “As if you weren’t there at all.”
“You seem to be fairly good at attracting trouble in spite of your assigned partner,” Severn replied, with a faint smile.
“If Margot has somehow blown things for an ongoing investigation…” She didn’t finish, because they reached the Hawklord’s tower door. They’d bypassed his office, but Kaylin didn’t expect him to be in his office; he rarely conducted his meetings there. For one, it was as crowded and cluttered as any busy person’s office. It also wasn’t as imposing as the more austere and architecturally impressive tower itself.
“This,” Kaylin muttered, as Severn placed his palm firmly across the doorward of the closed tower doors, “is worse than magic. This is politics.”
“On the bright side,” Severn replied, as the door swung inward, “this is probably making etiquette lessons look a lot more inviting.”
The Hawklord was standing in front of his perfect, oval mirror. In and of itself, this was not a bad sign. The mirror, however, reflected no part of the room, which meant he was accessing Records. Kaylin could see nothing but a blank, black surface. He glanced over his shoulder as she and Severn walked into the room, and she stopped almost immediately.
His eyes were blue.
Blue, in the Aerians, like blue in the Barrani, was not a good sign. With luck, it meant anger. With less luck, it meant fury. In either case, it meant tread carefully. Likewise, the Hawklord’s wings were high above his shoulders. They weren’t fully extended; they were loosely gathered. She’d seen loosely gathered Aerian wings strike and break bone exactly once.
She offered the Hawklord a perfect salute. Severn, by her side, did likewise.
“Alyssa Larienne came to this tower just over an hour ago,” he said without preamble. “Sergeant Kassan attempted to detain her by taking a detailed report of the incident which had angered her.”
Kaylin winced.
“As a result she left the Halls some fifteen minutes before your arrival.” The Hawklord’s wings twitched. His eyes were still a very glacial blue. “She did not appreciate the filing of an incident report. I was assured that Sergeant Kassan was polite and respectful.”
“She probably doesn’t have much to do with Leontines on a daily basis,” Kaylin pointed out. “She might not have been able to tell.”
“That,” the Hawklord said, and he did grimace, “is my profound hope. What happened in Elani street, Private Neya?”
Kaylin stared straight ahead. She wanted to at least look at Severn, because she could read minute changes in his expression well enough to be guided by them. But in the Hawklord’s current mood that might be career-limiting.
“We’re not entirely sure, sir. We cut our patrol short to report,” she told Lord Grammayre. “After we visited Evanton.”
The Hawklord’s face became about as inviting and open as the stone walls that enclosed them. “Continue.”
“There were three incidents in the space of a few hours of which we’re aware. With your permission, we’ll canvass the merchants and residents of the street tomorrow to see how many others we missed.”
“Incidents?”
She hesitated; he marked it. But he waited. “The first was a man selling a cure for baldness that actually appeared to work—instantly.”
He raised one pale brow. “It is Elani street.”
“Sir.” This time she did glance at Severn; his chin dipped slightly down. “We took the merchant’s name. Corporal Handred acquired a sample of the tonic.”
“You…believe that this was genuine.”
“Much as I hate to admit it, yes.”
“Go on.”
“The second incident of note, you’ve already heard about. Alyssa Larienne.”
“Lady Alyssa Larienne is young, idealistic, and convinced of her own importance.”
Severn cleared his throat.
“Corporal?”
“I would say that she is young, insecure, and in need of someone to convince her of that import.”
“She throws her weight around—” Kaylin broke in.
“If
