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Authors: Michelle Sagara

BOOK: Cast in Flame
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Could this day get any worse? “Thanks for the heads-up.” Kaylin considered turning tail and finding breakfast, but she didn’t have much money on hand.

“You’re going in?”

“Trouble’ll find me when I leave the office if I don’t; I might as well get paid for enduring it.”

* * *

The Imperial Guard always set the office, as a whole, on edge. Caitlin didn’t mind them, but they were so stiff, so officious, and so smugly superior, Caitlin was an island in the Halls. Bellusdeo was standing to one side of Marcus’s desk as Kaylin entered the office. Kaylin glanced, once, at the duty roster, saw her name—beside Severn’s—on the Elani beat, and allowed herself to relax. She wasn’t late. Yet.

She didn’t, however, see Severn.

Sanabalis was standing to one side of Bellusdeo; his eyes were a very clear orange, and if Dragons didn’t physically require sleep, he looked like he could personally use a week of it. The Imperial Guard were like breathing statues.

“Private,” Marcus growled. His sense of smell had probably alerted him to Kaylin’s presence, as there were too many tall people between them for her to even see him, seated as he was at his desk, and behind the perpetual stacks of paper that girded it. She couldn’t see the color of his eyes, but the tone of her rank pretty much gave it away. The Imperial Guard moved to allow her through.

She stood at attention in front of his desk and—as expected—his very orange eyes. She saw that he had reflexively gouged a few new runnels in the surface of that desk. Clearly, it hadn’t been a pleasant interview, whatever its subject.

“Your services are apparently being seconded by the Dragon Court.”

Standing at attention didn’t allow for the usual facial tics or gestures that indicated dismay. It was the only good thing she could say about it.

“You are apparently not content living at the Palace.”

It also didn’t allow for nuanced commentary, which was fine; surrounded by Imperial Guards, she didn’t feel particularly nuanced.

“Well?”

“No, sir.”

“And you intend to find other accommodations.”

“Yes, sir.”

“With a Lord of the Dragon Court.”

She didn’t hesitate; not with Marcus in his current mood. “Yes, sir.”

“The Dragon Court feels that such a search should not be an after-hours affair. Cognizant of the difficulties Lord Bellusdeo encountered the last time she chose to live outside of the Palace, they’ve taken it upon themselves to assure that your search for a new domicile is secure. You are therefore relieved of your regular duties until that search is completed. To Imperial satisfaction.”

“That is not,” Bellusdeo said, speaking for the first time since Kaylin had entered an otherwise raptly silent office, “what was said.” She stepped forward, until she was standing shoulder to shoulder with Kaylin, who, at attention, couldn’t otherwise turn to look at her. “Private Neya’s sense of responsibility to the Halls is quite strong; she understands the city far better than I, a recent refugee.” She used the Elantran word for refugee. Kaylin almost cringed to hear it. “If, in Private Neya’s considered opinion, such a search can be effectively conducted outside of her working hours, that is acceptable to
all
concerned.” The swish sound her hair made clearly indicated that Bellusdeo was pinning someone—or several someones—with a glare.

Sanabalis cleared his throat. In the silence of the office, it sounded like a distant earthquake. “Bellusdeo wishes to accompany Private Neya on her rounds, as she did before the private was sent out of the city to the West March.”

Great.

“Private,” Marcus barked. “At ease.”

As if. She did, however, relax her posture slightly. “Permission to speak freely, sir?”

Her Sergeant snorted. In general, there was nothing but free speech in the office.

“I’m not going on my rounds with a half dozen Imperial Guards as escort. Members of the Hawks
don’t
require babysitters, and we don’t want to imply they do; it’ll hurt the force. If the guards come with Bellusdeo and can’t be separated, I’ll take the time to find a new apartment. If they can be detached, I can find us a place to live on my own time.”

For some reason, this answer didn’t appear to please Marcus, although he clearly agreed with it.

“Is Lord Bellusdeo a Hawk?” a familiar voice asked. Kaylin couldn’t see the speaker, but cringed anyway. It was a Barrani voice. Mandoran’s. She hadn’t even
seen
him in the office, which answered her question about the day getting worse; clearly it could. A Barrani from the West March, frozen in time in the Barrani version of puberty, was now in the Halls of Law. She hoped Teela was standing on his feet.

“I am not,” was the frosty, Draconian reply.

“I was under the impression,” Mandoran continued, moving around the back side of Marcus’s desk with care to avoid the now-bristling Leontine that occupied it, “that tourists were not allowed to accompany on-duty Hawks.”

Marcus was either breathing heavily or trying to stifle a growl. Kaylin put money on the latter, and would have refused to bet on his chances of continued success.

“Lord Bellusdeo,” Sanabalis said, “is a member of the Dragon Court—the governing body that advises the Eternal Emperor. It is well within her purview to ask for—and receive—permission to inspect the forces assembled within the Halls in light of those duties.”

“Whereas I am merely a Barrani Lord visiting your fair city, and therefore have no responsibilities and no duties?”

Kaylin risked a glance at Sanabalis’s eyes. He was annoyed, but not yet angry.

Mandoran, having navigated the desk, came to stand beside Kaylin. He was grinning, and his eyes were almost green. Certainly greener than Barrani eyes generally were in this office. He winked at her. This did not make the Leontine Sergeant any less bristly.

“I see Teela hasn’t strangled you, yet,” she said, in as quiet a voice as she could.

“Why would she want to do that? At the moment, she’s not bored.”

“She is,” Teela said, “considering the concept of boredom with more deliberate care.”

Mandoran’s grin didn’t falter.

“Where is Corporal Handred?” Kaylin asked, hoping to stem the tide of this particular conversation.

She’d’ve had better luck with a tidal wave. “He’s closeted with the Wolflord,” Teela replied. “The duty roster hasn’t been updated, but apparently you and I are now covering Elani street.” She turned and offered a correct bow to Sanabalis. Unfortunately, Kaylin now recognized it as a correct bow for the Barrani High Court. “I ask that you overlook any impertinence from my guest. He is in a situation very similar to Lord Bellusdeo’s; the Empire—and the Eternal Emperor—did not exist when last he walked these lands.”

Bellusdeo frowned. “I was not aware that the Barrani could voluntarily enter the long sleep.”

“I’m certain there are many things that would surprise you about the Barrani,” Mandoran replied. His voice, however, had taken on both edge and chill, and his eyes had darkened to blue.

This predictably caused unrest among the Imperial Guard, subtle though it was; it caused Sanabalis’s eyes to shade toward a brighter orange, and it caused Teela’s eyes—Teela, who had made her way to the other side of Mandoran—to narrow. They were, on the other hand, already as blue as they could safely get.

Bellusdeo, however, lifted a brow; her eyes were no longer slightly orange. They were gold. She was amused.

Mandoran wasn’t.

Bellusdeo then turned to Teela. “If you have now had cause to reconsider your attitude toward boredom, I have not been so fortunate. Even for the Immortal, time can pass incredibly slowly. I believe I will find the patrol of great interest on this particular day.” She turned to Mandoran and added, “as a visitor to the city that is my current home, I bid you welcome. I am certain you will do nothing to disgrace yourself or your Court should you be forced to accept the company of a Dragon for an afternoon, and I am certain the Sergeant will relax his rules enough that you may join us.”

CHAPTER TWO

Although Bellusdeo had the last word, there were several hundred other words—thankfully none of them in native Dragon—before it. Kaylin thought it unfair when Sanabalis asked for a private word with her before she could leave the office.

The lack of justice didn’t notably ease when he marched her to the West Room in which her magic lessons were taught, and practically shut the door on her shoulder blades—without bothering to touch it. He did, on the other hand, activate the door ward with his own hand.

“What,” he asked, in Elantran, “do you think you’re doing?”

“I
thought
I was going on patrol in the Elani district.”

His eyes darkened a shade. “If there is ever a time to play games with a Dragon, Private, it is not now. The Emperor is not pleased by the current state of events.”

“Not even I could have missed that.”

He grimaced, and his eyes lightened a shade. “He has granted Bellusdeo his very reluctant permission to leave the Palace. He is placing the fate of the race in your hands.” And clearly, while Sanabalis held Kaylin in some affection, he didn’t consider her the appropriate receptacle for that responsibility.

She stared at him. She remembered to close her mouth after the first few seconds. “The same Emperor who initially thought I should be destroyed because I presented too great a risk?”

“We have not notably changed rulers in the interim.” His eyes gained more gold as he studied her face. “Tell me about this new Barrani. He is a recruit?”

She started to say no, stopped, and shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s a friend of Teela’s. An old friend.”

“He is to my eye one of the Barrani young.”

“She’s known him practically all her life,” she replied, trying to dodge the question he hadn’t yet asked.

“And you trust him?”

Did she? “I don’t know him well enough to trust him.” That was true. “But I trust Teela.”

“Teela is a Barrani High Lord. She owes her loyalty to—”

“She’s a
Hawk,
Sanabalis.”

Sanabalis was silent for a moment. “Kaylin, you have been the most difficult student I have ever accepted. The rewards are few; the frustration is legion. But you are not—as I’m certain Bellusdeo will tell you—boring. In my fashion, I have grown accustomed to your eccentricities. My opinion carries some weight at court. It will carry exactly
none
if Bellusdeo comes to harm.” He lifted a hand as Kaylin opened her mouth. “Yes, I am aware that she is not a child. So, too, is the Emperor.

“But you have told anyone who will listen that you are no longer a child, either. The Emperor therefore wishes you to understand what is at risk for you. Bellusdeo has a home in the Palace. She will be as safe there as she would be—”

“In a grave.”

Silence.

Kaylin watched the color of Dragon eyes closely; she’d folded her arms and widened her stance without conscious intent. But if Sanabalis felt insulted, it didn’t anger him; the color remained a constant, pale orange.

“You do not understand the politics of the Dragon Court.”

“Then I recommend better information be taught in racial-integration classes.” She exhaled through clenched teeth and forced herself to relax. “Look, Sanabalis, I don’t understand the problem. The Arkon had no objections. He doesn’t think Bellusdeo
can
be happy in the Palace. Not right now.”

“The Arkon is being astonishingly sentimental for one of our kind.”

“No, he’s just being perceptive. I don’t know what went down at the end of all the wars. I don’t know what choices the surviving Dragons were given—but I’m guessing that many of the Dragons didn’t survive to make that choice. I don’t know what choice Bellusdeo has been offered—but I’m guessing almost none. She’s the only female Dragon. She’s not being asked to choose between death and eternal servitude.” He started to speak, and she held up one hand. “She understands what’s at stake. She has a sense of responsibility. But she’s not a piece of property. The Emperor already
has
a hoard.”

“No choice has been demanded of Bellusdeo.”

“That’s not the way Diarmat sees it.”

One pale brow rose into an equally pale hairline.

“...Lord Diarmat.”

“Lord Diarmat is concerned for the rule of law. The Emperor’s law. He is younger than the Arkon, and he is aware that female Dragons are not an entirely different species.”

“They’re not technically a different species at all.”

“Exactly. Lord Diarmat is the only member of the Dragon Court who will risk open hostility to make that point. Bellusdeo is a Dragon, but she is not accorded the responsibilities that exist, for Dragons, in the Empire.”

“Meaning she’s not forced to swear the same oath the rest of you swore.”

“Yes.” Sanabalis fell silent. He did not, however, give Kaylin permission to depart, and she was very much aware, given the turn of the day’s events—or at least the evening’s prior—that permission was required. “She is not happy,” he surprised her by saying.

Kaylin waited.

“It may come as a surprise to you, but her happiness is of some concern to the Emperor; he balances it with a desire for her safety that is second only to his desire for the safety of his hoard. If you will not take the detachment of guards, I will have them dismissed. Go on your patrol. I will arrange a suitable escort for your...apartment hunting.”

“Who would that be?”

He ran his hand over his eyes. “In all likelihood, Private Neya, me. I may attempt to saddle Lord Emmerian with that duty; he has not, to my knowledge, offended Bellusdeo in the last several weeks. Largely,” he added, with a more toothy grin, “because he has avoided her entirely.”

* * *

“Why,” Teela said, in the clipped, cool voice that implied annoyance, “are you sulking?”

“I’m not sulking.” Kaylin did not kick a stone, which took effort.

Mandoran grinned. “You don’t look like you’re sulking to me—but I’m not as conversant with mortal expressions. Why exactly do your eyes stay that fixed color?”

“Human.”

“Doesn’t it make the other mortals wonder if you’re not just animals that talk?”

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