Moran asked as they walked toward Kaylin’s home. Trees—well-groomed and towering—covered the street as if they were nature’s fences.
“I know, right? But it’s where Helen was built.”
“I’m still having difficulty with that.”
“With what?”
“With thinking of a building as a person. It’s not that it has a name—buildings frequently do. So do rooms. They don’t generally have people names, though.”
“Or personalities,” Kaylin agreed. “You’ll understand it better when you meet her.”
Out of the corner of her mouth, Moran asked Teela, “Why did I think this was a good idea?”
“You didn’t, that I recall. You just weren’t willing to accept the cost of refusing to consider it.”
Moran glared at Kaylin. “Teela doesn’t live with you, correct?”
“No. Two of her friends do, and she’s coming with me to check up on them.”
“So...I’d be living with Barrani.”
“Not technically. You might hear them, but at least one of them has been practically invisible for weeks. They’re not like normal Barrani—I think you’d actually like them.”
Teela coughed, but Moran smiled. When the Aerian smiled, she looked vastly more vulnerable—maybe that was why she did it so seldom. “Is there anything else I should know?”
“Not really. Helen likes flowers.”
Moran blinked.
“...And I’m shutting up now. You’ll see.”
* * *
Helen was waiting in the foyer by the time Kaylin entered the house. Like Tara, Helen understood Kaylin’s visceral dislike of door wards; she even considered it sensible, as no one liked pain. She smiled brightly at the sight of Teela.
“I’m so glad you’ve come,” she told the Barrani. “I’m not certain I can talk any more sense into Annarion; he is very, very worried. Mandoran’s been trying, but Annarion has shut him out completely.”
“Yes, I’d heard,” Teela replied. “Are they in the basement?”
“Mandoran is in his room. Annarion is downstairs.”
“If it’s all right with you, I’ll go talk to Annarion.”
“Of course, dear. I’m very worried about that boy.” Teela walked past her, but Helen had already moved on—though Helen could accompany Teela and simultaneously greet a guest without even blinking.
“Helen, this is Moran. She’s a Hawk, and she’s in charge of the infirmary. As a sergeant. Moran, this is Helen.”
“If it’s easier,” Helen said, extending a hand, “think of me as a particularly concerned landlord.”
“Kaylin talks about you a lot in the office,” Moran replied, offering her the smile she seldom offered anyone in the Halls, except Caitlin. Her wings folded more naturally across her back, losing some of their height; her eyes settled into a comfortable dark gray. “This is a very impressive foyer.”
“Do the Aeries have foyers?”
“Not like this, but yes, there are areas that would serve the same function. The oldest of ours features more weaponry, though.” She seemed hesitant to elaborate further.
“I was hoping,” Kaylin said, rightly guessing the reason for the hesitation, “that Moran could stay with us. Her wings were injured when the Barrani ancestors came to visit, and she can’t fly properly, so she either has to take a leave of absence—”
“—or find a place to stay while she heals?” Helen was looking at Moran’s wings. Kaylin guessed that she was assessing them from a different vantage point—from the front, very little of the actual injuries could be examined.
“Yes, that. And at the moment, she’s living in the—”
Moran cleared her throat. Loudly.
“Yes, I see. That won’t do. I do have rooms that I think might suit you, if you would care to look at them. I don’t, unfortunately, have a working connection to the mirror network yet. Kaylin has been quite vocal about the necessity. Would you also require it?”
Moran’s smile in response was almost feline. “No, actually, having no mirror connection would be a godsend.”
* * *
Kaylin followed her guest and Helen, trailing behind. She wasn’t certain what she should be doing. Moran’s rooms would be her rooms; they weren’t part of Kaylin’s living space unless Moran specifically invited her in. But Helen was Kaylin’s home, and in theory, it was Kaylin offering hospitality. Would it be bad manners to tag along? Bad manners to hang back?
Etiquette gave Kaylin a headache, in part because good etiquette demanded entirely different behaviors in almost exactly the same situations. And also because it was Diarmat who was teaching.
She lagged behind, small and squawky across her shoulders like a wet blanket. He didn’t even lift his head when Moran opened the door Helen indicated. Her room was nestled between everyone else’s in the hall of doors; the door was adorned by a very simple, but obviously winged, person in silhouette.
Kaylin wasn’t certain what to expect. She’d seen the Aerie in which Clint and his flight lived—or rather, she’d seen the large, public spaces the entire Aerie shared. It had looked like a giant cave, though with smoother walls and adornments. She didn’t recall windows, but didn’t remember the darkness of natural caves, either. She had no idea what Aerians did for kitchens; she knew they didn’t eat sitting in normal chairs, because their wings made it impossible.
She had no idea how they slept. The fledglings slept in traditional bassinets, though with more padding. Other creatures with wings slept sitting upright—or hanging upside down, in the case of bats. She’d never been stupid enough to ask the Aerians whether they did the same thing. Or perhaps she’d just been too self-conscious about sounding stupid.
Kaylin started forward and almost ran into Moran’s back. The Aerian was standing in the doorway, her right hand on the frame; her knuckles were white.
“Moran?” Kaylin asked.
Moran didn’t appear to hear her, which might have been because of the raucous noise of birds. Kaylin couldn’t tell if they were angry birds or not; she could only tell that there were a lot of them.
Moran turned in the doorway to face Helen, who waited in silence. She then looked at Kaylin. “Did you know?” she asked, her voice entirely unlike the harsh bark the infirmary required.
Kaylin shook her head. “I still don’t.”
Moran stepped into the room, indicating by gesture that Kaylin should follow.
* * *
This
