influential flight. I don’t know her reasons for joining the Hawks. To be fair, she doesn’t know mine, either. The Hawks are, in theory, not politically or racially motivated.”
“In theory?”
“In practice, the Hawks are people. People are political. I don’t expect any group of people to be perfect, theoretical beings—for one, the pay isn’t nearly high enough. Some of the racial decisions made are purely pragmatic; the Barrani are preferentially sent into figurative war zones because we’re much more likely to survive them. There is no equality because we are not equal; we are different. I attempt to respect those differences.”
“Given your comments about mortals, I’d fail you if I were teaching.”
Teela chuckled. “Respect, among the Barrani, generally means something different. If, for instance, I say I respect your territory, what I mean is I will not attempt to conquer it. It does not mean that I find your sloping, creaking floors, your pathetically short ceilings, your warped doors and their insignificant hinges or your...windows...to be the equal of my own.”
Kaylin rolled her eyes.
“Moran is significant to the Aerians.”
“I hadn’t noticed her being treated with anything but the usual respect.”
“Indeed. You’ve assumed it’s because of her rank and her function.”
Kaylin snorted. “Have you ever tried to avoid her when you’re injured?”
“Frequently.”
“Has it worked?”
“Less frequently.”
“She had Marcus practically strapped to a bed. Last I looked, he didn’t have wings.”
“Fair enough. Marcus doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with your request. Neither does Caitlin. But don’t ask him for permission—either do it or decide on the better part of valor.” She headed up the stairs as she spoke, and Kaylin fell in behind her. “Let’s talk to Hanson and then head to the infirmary.”
* * *
The Hawklord ruled the Hawks, but the details of schedule, among other things, was decided by Hanson, his attaché. Unless the Hawklord personally summoned you, you didn’t see him without speaking to Hanson first.
Hanson’s office door was creaky and stiff. Nothing would induce him to change this; it was his early warning system, as far as Kaylin could tell. He was at his desk, his glasses hooked to his ears but resting on his graying head, rather than in front of his eyes.
He didn’t look particularly surprised to see Kaylin; he didn’t look entirely thrilled, either. Hanson wasn’t normally unfriendly—he wasn’t, like Mallory or a handful of other Hawks, disgusted at her inclusion on the force.
“You don’t look happy to see me.”
“I am delighted to see you,” he replied, looking anything but. His lips did twitch, though. He glanced at Teela, and the hint of a smile vanished. “You, on the other hand, look like you have no time to waste.”
“If you’re the roadblock, I’m perfectly happy to take a break.”
“Thanks, no. What do you need?”
“Sergeant Kassan requires a fire to be lit under the butts of the Imperial mages on duty in the Winding Path investigation.”
Hanson glanced at the mirror on the left of his desk. It was smaller than Marcus’s mirror, but it was significantly cleaner. People did not leave fingerprints on Hanson’s mirror. “How big is this going to get?”
“I honestly don’t know,” Teela replied.
This time Hanson grimaced. “Anything else?”
“That we know of? No.”
Hanson’s mirror flared white in the room. “Private,” a familiar Leontine voice barked. “Imperial Palace transmission. Your presence is requested—an hour ago—in the Imperial Library.”
“The message just came in, sir.”
“Don’t bother with logic,” Hanson said; he had clearly keyed the mirror to mute his voice. “Nothing you do is going to make the rabid Leontine sheathe his claws. Not today.”
* * *
“Is it too much to ask?” Kaylin muttered as she tromped down the stairs.
“Is what?”
“A normal day.”
“Be careful what you wish for. As far as I can tell, this is your new normal.” Teela’s grin was sharp and very Barrani.
“It’s not just the weirdness of the Winding Path. I could deal with that. Marcus is almost certainly going to insist we accompany Red when he goes—but that’s work. It’s Hawk work. But I also have to go home to Mandoran and Annarion—and can I just say that Annarion has been in a mood? He’s getting angrier by the day.”
“You are not telling me anything I have not fully experienced for myself. Are you going to tell him about Gilbert?”
“I’m going to talk to Helen first—because if I tell him about Gilbert, he’s going to demand to visit, and Helen hasn’t cleared him yet.”
“Ah.”
“We lost too many people the last time he walked our streets. Knowing what we know now, it would be consenting to murder just to let him out the door.” She exhaled. “And he knows that. I’m not being fair. I would just... I’d kind of like to be able to leave my work at the office once in a while.”
“You’re whining.”
“Yes. I’m whining where a grouchy Leontine won’t hear me and rip out my throat.” Kaylin exhaled. “Sorry. I kind of like them both. And I understand why Annarion is going crazy—if one of my foundlings was missing, I wouldn’t be able to sit still, practicing whatever it is he’s practicing. But Nightshade’s not anyone’s definition of helpless. If we somehow find out that he is in Ravellon—and I seriously doubt that he could be, because I’d hear him, I’m certain of it—it’s Nightshade who’s likely to survive it in one piece.”
“Annarion doesn’t want to take you with them.”
This should have made Kaylin feel better, but it didn’t. It annoyed her.
“He will, though.”
Kaylin stopped at the base of the Tower steps. “You can’t make him do anything he doesn’t want to do.”
“Actually, I can.”
“You’re not going to Ravellon, Teela. Even if we do go.”
Teela smiled her best “that’s nice, dear” smile and walked past Kaylin into the office.
*
