guesting at the Palace at the moment, on account of having no home.”
“Yes. You could stay with me in the High Halls instead; I find the Halls very dull and otherwise too peaceful. Regardless, you will require suitable clothing for your journey to the West March. I assume that very little of yours survived.”
“I’m wearing most of it.” Kaylin sat. “You’re not going to tell me what happened, are you?”
“You can read the report when it’s written. You can read any of a dozen reports; Marcus probably won’t.”
“Teela—”
Teela lifted a hand. “Two of the mages died. We lost four Hawks; three of them were Barrani, one was Aerian. Clint was injured, but not badly; Tain has a broken arm and the disposition one would expect from that.”
“Marcus?”
“His fur was singed, as you may have noticed. He’s alive. He’s alive,” Teela added, “because he can move his bulk at need, and he moved.”
“I don’t suppose the Dragons—”
“The Dragons are, of course, fine.”
“The Arcanum—”
“The Arcanum was damaged during the fighting; it is, however, still structurally sound.”
“Evarrim?”
“He was not involved in the fighting.” The way she said it made clear that no more questions about Evarrim were going to be answered; it also made clear that she would have been happier if he had been.
“What were you looking for anyway?”
“The Arcanists involved with the Human Caste Court and their missing funds.”
“Did you find them?”
“All but one.”
“Are they in custody?”
Teela stared at her until she felt embarrassed for even asking. “Do remember,” she said, “that the Emperor can hold his own laws in abeyance should the need arise, hmm? The Arcanists were expecting trouble; they just weren’t expecting the quality of the trouble they did get.” She said this with a particularly vicious smile. “I’ll meet you here after work.”
“But I can’t stay in the High Halls.”
“Why not?”
“Bellusdeo will kill me.”
Teela frowned. “You haven’t learned anything from yesterday, have you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Hanging around with that particular Dragon is not good for your health. I’m not sure she’s in the clear yet, and if she’s not, you won’t be.”
“I’m in the Palace,” Kaylin pointed out.
“Not at the moment, you’re not. Your point is, however, taken. I’d prefer to avoid the Palace, if at all possible.”
“Why?”
“Because the Emperor isn’t terribly happy with the Barrani, its Lords, or its mages, and I’m not assuming that he’s going to be entirely happy with its Hawks, either.”
“Why?”
“Kitling—think instead of talking, hmm?” She gave Kaylin five seconds to do that thinking, which seemed a tad unfair. “The bomb wasn’t thrown by mortals; it certainly wasn’t planted by Dragons. Whoever tried to kill Bellusdeo was almost certainly Barrani; it is not inconceivable that they were working in concert with humans.”
“If I ask why again, are you going to hurt me?”
“I’ll seriously consider it,” Teela replied, but her eyes stayed on the safe side of blue. “Bellusdeo is both female and Dragon. The Dragon population has been static for a long time now; the Barrani population hasn’t. If we’re not at war—and we’re not—the war still informs us. Someone doesn’t want there to be any more clutches, and killing Bellusdeo pretty much guarantees that.”
* * *
Kaylin’s regular beat was still embroiled in the investigations and magical cleanup demanded by the Emperor and the Imperial Order of Mages. They were drawing to a close, which meant the growing line of concerned citizens—Margot chief among them—were likely to be less of a feature in the various offices the Swords occupied. Which was a pity. Margot’s inability to make money by swindling the gullible was a genuinely bright spot in what was otherwise magical chaos and displacement.
The panicked reports of citizens at the edges of the Elani district had dropped to a manageable level in the two weeks it’d been more or less locked down, which meant the Hawks confined to desks in the public office were released to their regular duties. In the case of Private Neya and Corporal
Handred, this meant a stroll to the fief of Tiamaris; as Elani was still in lockdown, and it was their beat, they had time in the schedule for low-level investigations of a more incidental nature. As the Hawklord called them.
As the two Hawks headed toward the bridge-crossing that led to Tiamaris, Kaylin filled Severn in on the admittedly scant details of the report Marcus had offloaded, hoping that Severn would drop in on Missing Persons—Mallory’s domain—
tomorrow. Mallory didn’t have the apparent contempt for Severn that he had for Kaylin. To be fair, Severn didn’t have the apparent contempt for Mallory that Kaylin had, either. Severn was much more likely to be granted full records access for a search of those reported missing the past two weeks.
The small dragon chewed on the stick in Kaylin’s hair without dislodging it or, worse, snapping it, as they made their way across the bridge and, from there, to the less crowded fief streets. They hadn’t bothered to ditch the Hawks’ tabard, so the occupants of those streets kept their distance—but they didn’t duck into the nearest building, doorway, or alley just to move out of the way. Things improved, if slowly.
To Kaylin’s surprise, Tara wasn’t in her garden when they approached the Tower itself. Kaylin slowed, ducked around the side of the building, and found it empty, as well. Severn nodded when she glanced at him; he found it unusual, as well.
The Tower doors were shut. Since they had no ward—a kindness offered by Tara, who understood just how thoroughly uncomfortable wards made Kaylin—the two Hawks knocked and then took a step back to wait. The doors took five minutes to roll open.
Standing between them as they opened was Morse. She was alone, which was also unusual; she was on edge, which was worse. “Tiamaris wants to speak with you,” she said without preamble.
“Where’s Tara?”
“In the mirror room. If she wants to be disturbed, she’ll let us know. She’s been there for the past three days,” she added as she turned and began to lead them into the cavernous, wide halls of the Tower.
“Morse?”
Morse
