Cast in Honor (The Chronicles of Elantra) (6 page)

She went back to the first sigil and carefully made her way down the steps again. “I’m going to need to sketch these,” she murmured.

“I’m not certain it will be helpful,” Teela replied. Kaylin was not a very good artist.

* * *

The sigils did repeat. They did not repeat in an immediately obvious sequence. “I don’t think the mages involved were working in concert.”

“Because of the different saturation of red?”

“Partially, yes. But there’s also some overlap. If the placement of the sigils are any indication, these stairs probably appeared when the last of them was laid down. Teela—”

“On it,” the Hawk replied. “If you’re about to say these marks weren’t placed on
these
walls.” Teela frowned and gestured. She didn’t
add
to the pattern in any way; the detection spells of the mages were cast upon their own eyes.

“I think you’re onto something,” Teela finally said. “If we imagine that the spells were cast when the casters were standing on level ground with low—very low—ceilings, they would not overlap in the way they appear to overlap now.”

“The red worries me.”

“It worries me, as well. I don’t see red,” she clarified. “But I see some indication of...contamination.”

“Is it possible that six different people were trying to cast the
same
spell at different times?”

“It’s possible, yes. Which introduces a host of other questions, none of which are comforting.”

“No.” Kaylin glanced at the small dragon, who lifted a wing in silence, staring at the walls as if he could see, more clearly, what was written there. “Wing view is the same. There’s no new information.” Kaylin exhaled. “Shall we go view the bodies?”

* * *

The bodies were in the room the stairs led into. It was not a small room, and given the depth to which the stairs descended, Kaylin wasn’t surprised to find that there was standing room here. The ceilings were tall and appeared to be made of the same rock as the stairs and the floor. There was no way this room and the second set of stairs had been carved in just three days. Not without a
lot
of magic. And noise, for that matter.

Kaylin had not asked the familiar to lower his wing, and he hadn’t folded it across his back on his own, so she assumed he intended for her to see something. She entered the room, wondering—not for the first time—how he actually saw the world. Did he see what his wing exposed? Did he see more? Was everything just a jumble of possibilities and probabilities, without concrete reality to hold it in place?

“Gavin,” Kaylin said, lifting a hand and immediately regretting it as cloth chafed her already-sensitive skin, “where exactly did you say the bodies were?”

Teela turned to look at her in open disbelief. Gavin was probably drilling the side of her face as well, given Teela’s expression.

“Tell the familiar to lower his wing,” Teela told her.

The familiar in question squawked.

“I’m sorry,” Teela replied, with zero actual regret in her voice, “but we need Kaylin to see what’s actually here. You can play the part of slightly detached mask again afterward.”

The small dragon lowered his wing.

* * *

The moment it was gone, the bodies appeared. Nothing else looked different to Kaylin—the room was still far too large and the ceiling too high. The bodies, however, were a significant addition. There were, as Gavin had said, three. They were, on first glance, all male and approximately Kaylin’s age.

They were also lying in a kind of sleeping repose and had been arranged in a neat row, their feet even with one another. They wore nondescript clothing of the type that a carpenter or gardener would wear. They did not appear to have expired of specific injuries; there was no visible blood.

“Have the bodies been moved at all?” Teela asked.

Gavin replied in a tight voice, “I have been at this job for longer than most of the Barrani. Beyond what was required to ascertain that they were not alive, they have not been touched.”

Teela nodded thoughtfully. If she’d noticed Gavin was offended—and since she was Barrani, there was a chance she hadn’t—she clearly didn’t care. “So we have neatly lined up bodies of slightly different sizes—all apparently mortal—that Kaylin
can’t
see when she’s looking through her familiar’s wing. This is not looking promising.”

“Should we send the bodies to Red?” Gavin asked.

“I think,” Kaylin replied, before Teela could, “that we should bring Red to the bodies. I’m not liking the idea of bodies that can’t be seen—”

“By you.”

“—being deposited in the morgue. The protections we have in the Halls are for the regular magical criminality, and this clearly isn’t it.”

Gavin hesitated for a fraction of a second, as if taking any advice from someone so junior and from such questionable roots was against his every fiber. He was, however, practical, and his nature forced an end to that hesitation. “I’ll mirror it in. Head to the Halls and make sure the Hawklord sits on the Imperial Order—we’ll want those reports as soon as possible.” He glanced at the bodies. “His parents aren’t going to be happy.”

“Which one is the son?”

“The one on the left. Neither of the parents recognized the other two, so I’ve sent a request to Records for any information about previous criminal activities or any missing-persons reports that might involve them.” He handed Teela the portable mirror. “Request your forward. Marcus is expecting you in the office.”

* * *

“This isn’t the way to the Halls,” Teela observed as they walked away from the Winding Path. Kaylin glanced, briefly, at Gilbert’s house; she was almost certain his presence and the deaths of the young men were related. But she couldn’t force herself to believe that Kattea was
also
connected to the deaths. Kattea had been in Nightshade—and she’d gotten out. What would be left, for her, if Gilbert was gone?

“Kitling?”

“Sorry, I was thinking. What did you say?”

“I asked you where you thought you were going.”

“To visit Evanton. It’ll be brief, I promise.”

Chapter 6

Grethan, Evanton’s young Tha’alani apprentice, seemed uneasy as they entered the Keeper’s shop on Elani Street.

“Is he in a mood?” Kaylin asked.

“He is currently meditating in the Garden.” Which meant, roughly translated, “not yet.” Evanton didn’t care for interruptions when he was meditating. “But he left instructions to let you in if you happened to visit.”

The familiar flapped off her shoulders and headed for Grethan’s instead. For some reason, the familiar liked Grethan. Or at least saw him as harmless. The Tha’alani’s smile was quick and wide.

“Can you conjure the image Hope showed us at Gilbert’s?” Kaylin asked Teela as Grethan took them down the very narrow hall that led to the Keeper’s Garden.

“Yes. I’m not inclined to do it more than twice today, but I will show the Keeper if he asks. I already dislike almost everything about this investigation, and we’ve only barely begun.” She exhaled. “Mandoran is upset.”

“Annoyed or actually upset?”

“Annarion had a minor setback this afternoon.”

Kaylin missed a step.

“Helen was there. Mandoran seems to be more adept at containing himself. Annarion’s containment falters when he is too emotional.”

“What happened?”

“Unclear. Annarion won’t talk to me at all at the moment, and Mandoran won’t talk to me about Annarion. They would like me to clear up the difficulties here and send you home.”

She had a thing or two to ask them, as well. Gilbert had implied, strongly, that he had met Nightshade, and that Nightshade had been in Ravellon. This was not exactly the news that would fill his younger brother—his frantic, increasingly worried younger brother—with joy or peace.

* * *

After her most recent visit to the Keeper’s Garden, Kaylin wasn’t certain what to expect when Grethan opened the door. The Garden, however, appeared to be in its normal, contained state. The small hut, which had interesting internal dimensions, decor and occasionally visitors, was not in immediate sight; the pond, around which various small shrines had been erected, was.

Seated on a rounded, mossy rock was the Garden’s Keeper. Evanton was dressed not as cranky shopkeeper, but as a figure of mystical import: he wore very fine blue robes that lent him a majesty that his usual apron and jeweler’s glass did not.

The small dragon left the apprentice and returned to Kaylin’s shoulders, where he flopped like a badly made scarf. Evanton made no move to stand or greet them; his legs were crossed, his eyes closed. He did not look angry, frustrated or enraged; he did not look worried.

Of course, he didn’t look up at all.

Grethan hesitated to interrupt Evanton, and Kaylin well understood why. She was hesitant herself, and Kaylin didn’t have to live with his moods the way Grethan did. But the apprentice didn’t have three mysteriously disappearing corpses and a sentient Shadow to deal with.

She glanced at the familiar. She was almost grateful that he’d been with her when they’d met Gilbert; had he not been, she wasn’t certain what she would have done. Leaving Gilbert on his own and trusting him not to harm anyone went against all of her instincts. And yet...small and squawky had been, if not friendly, then at least comfortable in the Shadow’s presence.

Marcus would eat her throat, and she’d probably deserve it. But...he wouldn’t bite Bellusdeo, and he wouldn’t roar at Teela—and they’d both been present. She exhaled. She was
almost
certain Marcus would at least hear her out. She’d probably need to go shopping for a new desk for the Sergeant by the end of it, though.

“You are exhaling loudly enough to wake the dead,” Evanton said. He’d moved nothing but his mouth.

Grethan cringed.

“And,” he added, as his eyes flickered open, “you are late.”

* * *

“We had a bit of a problem on the Winding Path,” Kaylin began. Then she stopped. “Wait...late for what?”

This made Evanton chuckle. “You’ve clearly grown accustomed to apologizing for tardiness. Regardless, I was expecting you somewhat earlier.”

“I made lunch,” Grethan said quietly, alleviating Kaylin’s mounting silence.

“Good. I find myself somewhat hungry.” Evanton nodded to Grethan. “Lunch will be served in the Garden.”

“We’re in a bit of a hurry...” Kaylin trailed off, glancing at Teela, hoping for a bit of support. She got nothing.

“You’re too busy to keep an old, frail man company while he eats his first meal of the day?”

“...Or not.” She took a seat beside him, though she was not at all hungry, for once. Teela did not sit; she folded her arms, looking down at them.

“Have some tea.”

“I’ve already had tea this morning.” Evanton didn’t care for tea himself.

“I see. What exactly brings you here today?”

“How much do you know about Shadows?”

“An odd question to ask.” He didn’t sound at all surprised to hear it.

“We’re investigating a murder case. Three young men were found in the basement of a house on the Winding Path.”

Evanton nodded, waiting. For an old man who sometimes defined the word
impatient
, he was pretty good at it.

“Across the street from the house where the bodies were discovered is another house. It seems like an entirely normal house...but one of its occupants is not exactly human.”

“And not, I’m assuming, Barrani, either.”

“Definitively not Barrani,” Teela said. She’d mostly abandoned the conversation to Kaylin, but clearly felt this needed to be said.

Evanton rose. “Are you claiming that he is Shadowed?”

“He claims to have come from Ravellon. The only Ravellon I currently know is at the heart of the fiefs—and the only things that escape it usually leave a trail of bodies in their wake. If we’re lucky, the bodies stay dead.”

Evanton’s expression flattened. “You have left this man in the home he now occupies?”

“I know it sounds crazy. But he had a child with him. A girl.”

“This girl also claims to have come from Ravellon?”

“No. From Nightshade. He brought her across the bridge.”

“And just happened to find a suitable house in which to raise her?” The word
skeptical
did not do justice to his tone or expression.

Put that way, it sounded bad. Kaylin poked the adornment draped across her shoulders; he lifted his head and yawned. Evanton frowned.

“You saw this so-called Shadow?”

The small dragon nodded.

“And you accepted his presence?”

And yawned.

“Kaylin, do not take all of your cues from your familiar. While he does seem to serve you, he is
not
mortal. He is not human. His concerns and his fears are not—and cannot be—yours.”

“I know that, but they spoke to each other. He’s pretty clear on what he thinks is dangerous, and he didn’t consider Gilbert a danger.”

“Gilbert.”

“I think Kattea probably named him.”

“Gilbert.” Evanton shook his head. “Were you alone?”

“Severn, Teela, Tain and Bellusdeo were with me at the time. Bellusdeo was willing to accept Gilbert’s existence, and if she does...” Kaylin offered Evanton a fief shrug.

“So you came to ask me about...Gilbert.”

“Well, no. I mean yes, but not
just
about Gilbert.” Kaylin sighed, resigning herself to the idea of Marcus’s inevitable snarling back at the office. “Let me tell you about my morning.”

* * *

Teela added the details that Kaylin glossed over in her attempt to get to the office in time to preserve her job—and her throat—while Evanton listened carefully. He asked no questions until she reached the end of her narrative.

Suprisingly, his first question was not directed to Kaylin.

“An’Teela, have you seen the ruins just south of the West March?”

Teela frowned. “No.”

“They are not easily accessible; simple scholars have managed to lose themselves in the surrounding forest without reaching their place of study. They are, however, accessible if the scholar is an Arcanist.”

“This is relevant?”

“It may be. It is not clear who dwelled in those ruins; they are architecturally inconsistent with the West March and its environs. The ruins existed before the Barrani and the Dragons started any of their ill-advised wars. As ruins do, they attracted the attention of the curious.”

Teela said nothing.

“Entry to these buildings was often complicated—even after the buildings themselves were deserted. Kaylin, I believe you have some experience of this.”

Kaylin bristled. “Helen is
not
a ruin.”

“No. But her appearance—both internal and external—is under her own control. She cannot be easily invoked or altered against her wishes. I am not claiming that the basement of a nondescript building within the city is in any way equivalent to Helen—but there were always wards and protections cast upon buildings, and death does not always render them inactive.

“From the sounds of your staircase, it is possible that the homes in that area were built upon the foundations of older works.”

“But who would know enough about that to sneak into a
basement
with a member of the family? And what would they stand to gain by killing the three men?”

“Investigation of this nature is what you’re paid to do.”

“Meaning,” Teela said, “you don’t know.”

Evanton raised a brow at her tone, but nodded. “I admit that the bodies—and their presence or absence—is new to me. But difficulties of this nature are, sadly, becoming more familiar.”

“What exactly is the nature of these difficulties?” Kaylin demanded.

Evanton, however, shook his head. “That, I cannot reveal to you at this time. However, I will, I fear, be spending more time in the Garden in the immediate future. My knowledge is inexact, but my function is not. I keep the world...real.”

Scary thought.

* * *

Kaylin thought she could hear Marcus growling from two blocks away. The Halls of Law loomed like a gallows as they marched briskly toward them. Teela was tight-lipped and blue-eyed by the time they reached the doors. Tanner and Clint framed them, but one look at Teela’s expression made them instantly wary. Fair enough. Barrani blue was not a terribly safe look.

Clint’s eyes, however, were already the wrong color for an Aerian: coal gray, which made them look hard. He lowered his weapon as they approached, but didn’t raise it to allow them passage, and given Teela’s mood, that was significant.

“What’s wrong?” Kaylin asked.

“I heard a rumor in the mess hall.”

“Was it about me?” Kaylin asked.

“Got it in one go.”

“I can hear Ironjaw growling from here, Clint. He’s been waiting for us to arrive.”

Clint had the grace to wince, but didn’t immediately grant them passage. “It’s about you and Moran.”

Kaylin blinked. “Pardon?”

Tanner held out a hand, palm up. Clint dropped a few coins into it, although he didn’t really look away from Kaylin. Tanner then said, “Caitlin said you’re going to offer Moran a place to stay while she recuperates.”

“Caitlin told you this?” Kaylin demanded, feeling a bit of a pang.

“Clint grilled her.”

That was also highly unlike the Clint Kaylin knew. “It’s not a rumor. It’s true. I haven’t convinced Moran yet.”

“Moran will say no.”

“She’ll say no the first few times I try, yes.”

“Don’t try a second time.”

Kaylin stared at Clint as if he’d been replaced by a Shadow. “She can’t fly.”

“No.”

“She won’t let me heal her—and I offered that first.”

“There are reasons for that. The Hawklord wouldn’t let you heal him, if he had any say. The Barrani don’t let you touch them. I don’t imagine the Dragon Lords would countenance it, either.”

Bellusdeo allowed it, but Kaylin kept that to herself. This entire conversation had gone in a direction Kaylin would never have anticipated. “Clint—she’s living in the
infirmary
.”

“She has been offered conveyance to, and from, the Aerie. She has chosen to decline the offer.”

“I
know
that. But the infirmary is more of a jail than a home.” Kaylin had folded her arms at some point and was now tightening them.

“To you, Moran is a sergeant. She rules the infirmary. To Moran’s family, she is not a Hawk. Her work here has never been treated with respect; it has, among the more considerate, been politely ignored. She was injured in her service to the Hawks.”

Kaylin, confused, looked at Teela to see if she was having any better luck following this discussion. From the shuttered expression on the Barrani Hawk’s face, she was. The small dragon, however, didn’t consider it important enough to budge and lay across Kaylin’s shoulder like a slightly resentful shawl.

“I’m aware of how she sustained the injuries, Clint.” She used his name like punctuation. “All I’m offering her is an actual home-away-from-home. She needs a place to stay.
My
place will actually have rooms that are designed for an Aerian, even an injured one. She won’t have to deal with landlords. She won’t have to deal with rent. She can walk to and from the Halls in relative safety. You’re acting as if this is some kind of political deal.”

“It is. You’ve always thought Moran’s wings were different.”

“Well, they are. All the rest of yours are single colors. Hers look like they’re speckled.”

Clint nodded. After a few seconds, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “How many
other
speckled wings have you seen?”

“I just told you—” Kaylin caught up. “You’re telling me they’re significant in the Aerie.”

“I’m trying to tell you that, yes.” To Teela, he said, “Did you have these issues when you introduced Kaylin to the High Halls?”

“Not these specific ones, no. The Barrani Halls are slightly simpler. Everyone you meet is going to try to kill you at one point or another; she only had to try to avoid the ones who were going to do so immediately.”

Tanner chuckled.

Kaylin didn’t. “The Hawks are politically neutral.”

“Yes, kitling, they are. But none of us exist solely as Hawks. We have duties and responsibilities—and enemies—outside of the Halls. We have history. Some of us have a longer and more complex history simply because we’re older. Moran, clearly, has significance outside of the Halls, and you are somehow stepping in it.”