Her familiar was perched alertly on her left shoulder, and occasionally he chittered like a bird. This grabbed more attention than when he sprawled like a lifeless scarf, but if she was being fair, not a lot more. She had become completely accustomed to having Hope around, and wondered if he could be made the Hawk’s official mascot, since the position hadn’t been filled when Kaylin had graduated from it.
Someone, however, had pointed out that something that looked like a Dragon, even if glass and in miniature, was never going to be made an official mascot. To anyone who didn’t know Kaylin’s familiar, the visual would be thumbing the Hawks’ collective nose in the Emperor’s direction, and given that the Hawks in theory served the Emperor, that would be bad.
“Evanton?” Severn asked.
Kaylin shook her head. “And no Margot, either. I’d like a normal, boring day if it’s all the same to you.”
“That’s a pity.”
“Oh?”
“I think I see Grethan in the window.”
*
Kaylin liked Grethan. Given their first encounter, she would have bet that would be impossible. But he worked hard, he obeyed Evanton, and he seemed to be helpful. It didn’t hurt that Kaylin’s familiar seemed to really like him as well; he immediately pushed himself off Kaylin and landed on the apprentice.
Grethan’s forehead antennae were weaving in and around the familiar’s face as Grethan spoke. Kaylin waited until their greetings had more or less finished, and then cleared her throat.
The apprentice blushed. “He’s waiting for you in the kitchen.”
“Any idea what he wants?”
“No, sorry. If it helps, he’s not in a bad mood today.” He hesitated and then added, “He’s been in a bad mood all week—if you could maybe not irritate him, I’d really, really appreciate it.”
*
Evanton was, as Grethan indicated, sitting in the kitchen in front of a pot of steaming tea, none of which he usually drank.
“Is this going to take a while?” she asked as she slid into a chair and looked for the cookie tin.
“Why do you ask?”
“You made tea.”
“It happens on occasion when I’m entertaining guests.”
“You were expecting someone else?”
“I was expecting you, of course.”
“I’m on duty,” she told him.
“Corporal?”
Severn smiled and shook his head; he could drink tea, but seldom did while on duty. Kaylin, however, looked at the counter, on which the cookie tin rested. Evanton nodded and she rose to fetch it.
“I have heard disturbing rumors,” he said, while she was prying the slightly warped lid off.
“About?”
“The West March.”
Kaylin cringed. Because she could eat at any time, she took a cookie before she returned to the table, leaving the open tin on the counter. At a raised eyebrow, she rose and put the lid back, as Evanton wasn’t terribly fond of mice, and apparently had some anyway.
“Yes,” she said, deflating, “there have been some problems.”
Bellusdeo treated Evanton with respect; in Kaylin’s experience, Evanton was the only obvious recipient of Bellusdeo’s deference. The Dragon’s eyes were orange. “You seldom mention rumors that are irrelevant. What do you feel it is important for us to know?”
Evanton smiled, which deepened the lines around the corners of his mouth and eyes. “I call them rumors for a reason. In this case, the information conveyed to me was done so indirectly. There is some danger involving the Hallionne.”
Silence. Bellusdeo passed the conversation back to Kaylin with a glance.
“Did your rumors detail which Hallionne?”
“Ah, no. It appears to be a collective problem. I am not,” he added, “Barrani, and I have not traveled by the Hallionne paths for a very, very long time. Before you ask, my prior experience is irrelevant, and regardless, I am not in a position to travel now.”
Kaylin’s frown grew extra lines. “Have you talked to Teela?”
“It so happens that she dropped by to pay her respects, yes. And by respect, I do not mean slouch at the table and eat all the cookies.”
Kaylin straightened up.
“Better. She wanted to speak about Mandoran.”
“Specifically Mandoran?”
“The garden was not pleased to see him the first time he visited, if you recall. She wished me to speak specifically with the wild elements to ascertain exactly why.”
“The elements don’t work that way.”
“No. Very good, by the way.” He waited.
“She can’t possibly expect me to talk to the elements?”
“I assure you she doesn’t.”
“...You want me to talk to them.”
“I would appreciate any attempt you might make to talk to the water. Teela did not seem particularly interested in that solution. But you appear to have an affinity for it. The water is the primary source of my rumors, and the water is...very concerned.”
“Did the water explain what her difficulty with Mandoran was?”
Evanton exhaled. “No, not precisely. The water does speak in a fashion that the other elements do not—no doubt due to the influence of the Tha’alaan. But the words the water offered were opaque. The element understands their meaning. I do not; Teela did not appear to understand them, either.
“But the water’s replies to An’Teela’s questions—through me as intermediary—were broader than Mandoran. There is concern about people who are similar to Mandoran, at least if I understood what was said.” He did not look at all certain. “In your parlance,” he added, “and with deference to Bellusdeo, there is a possibility of the involvement of Shadow.” He held up a hand as Bellusdeo opened her mouth. “It is not a certainty, and I do not guarantee certainty without some conversation with the water itself.”
“Did I mention I’m on duty?”
“I would, of course, as a merchant who pays taxes, expect you to do this on your own time.”
Of course.
*
Bellusdeo was not happy to wait, but understood Kaylin’s reasons. Barely. The Dragon was aware, however, that even the mention of Shadow sent her into panic mode, and she was willing to walk out the duration of an Elani beat that had become irrelevant to her.
The rest of the Elani patrol passed without incident. Kaylin returned to the Halls, filed a brief report which went into the “not an emergency and can be shredded” pile on Marcus’s desk, and then paced the office floors. She was now afraid of two things.
One: the Consort would agree with the Lords who wanted Teela’s cohort to be made outcaste, and two: the Emperor would lose his scales when she attempted to cancel his dinner.
The former would mean that she would once again be in conflict with the Consort, and she wasn’t certain that she would be forgiven as easily or as quickly a second time. The latter meant that she would be in conflict with the Emperor, because she would have to explain why she was canceling the informal dinner. She had never explicitly said much about either Annarion or Mandoran.
While it was true that the attack on the High Halls at the heart of the upscale part of the city was technically their fault, they hadn’t called the ancestors on purpose. They wouldn’t have been aware they were calling them at all had it not been for Helen, and they remained indoors—or at least Annarion did—in a desperate attempt to learn to be silent.