Cast in Honor (Chronicles of Elantra, #11)

Kaylin was much closer to the man now and revised her estimate of his height. “I’m Private Kaylin Neya,” she said, extending her hand.

“I am Gilbert Rayelle,” he replied. He made no attempt to take the offered hand, and after a few increasingly awkward seconds, Kaylin lowered hers.

“We have a few questions we’d like to ask you,” Teela said, picking up where she’d left off.

“This is not the best time.”

“And we regret the inconvenience,” she replied. Her tone contained no regret at all. It contained no anger, either. Her eyes, however, were dark blue. So were Tain’s. Kaylin glanced at Bellusdeo, whose eyes were almost red. She’d bypassed the shades of orange that usually served as a warning.

“Kattea,” Gilbert said, “why don’t you go upstairs. It’s not yet time for lunch, and I must answer their questions.”

“Can I take him with me?” Kattea asked Kaylin.

Kaylin shook her head. “He’s my partner. One of them, anyway,” she added, catching Severn’s eye.

“Kattea.”

The girl very carefully handed the small dragon back to its owner. “I’m staying,” she said.

Gilbert looked ill-pleased, but to Kaylin’s surprise, he didn’t argue.

“They’re Hawks,” she continued. “They’re not going to hurt me. I haven’t done anything wrong.” When Gilbert failed to answer, she continued, “They’re not going to hurt you, either—you haven’t done anything wrong.” She spoke the second statement with as much conviction as the first.

Kaylin, observing the reactions of the immortals surrounding her, wasn’t nearly as confident.

“Won’t you come in?” Kattea invited. “And sit?”

This was so clearly not what Gilbert intended that Kaylin wanted to laugh. She suppressed the urge as the small dragon returned to her shoulder, where he drew breath and squawked, this time loudly. He appeared to be talking to Bellusdeo. The Dragon’s brows rose, but her eyes didn’t get any redder, which was a small mercy. Before she could reply, the small dragon swiveled to face Gilbert and screeched at him, as well.

“I think he’s talking,” Kattea said. To Kaylin, she added, “Can you understand him?”

“Not really.”

“Me, neither.” She turned to Gilbert, clearly hoping that he could. “What did he say to you?”

“He said ‘hello.’”

Kattea looked dubious. “All that was ‘hello’?”

“Hello, in the old country, is long and involved,” Gilbert replied. “It involves a statement of intent, a statement of limitations and a statement of the rules the guest is offering to follow.”

“That’s not hello, Gilbert.”

“Not in Elantra, no.”

“What did he say to the lady?”

Gilbert hesitated.

Kattea, showing the patience of ten-year-olds everywhere, turned immediately to Bellusdeo. She started to repeat her question, stopped and asked, “Why are your eyes red? Have you been crying?”

“No,” the Dragon replied.

“What did he say to you?”

“He said that Gilbert is not, at the moment, my enemy, and reminds me that my people are not all of one mind, and in like fashion, Gilbert may not be what I have...come to expect.”

“So...not hello.”

“No.” She exhaled, her eyes shading ever-so-slightly toward orange. “The small creature had better be right.” She exhaled again, which was a good trick, because Kaylin would have bet she hadn’t inhaled in between. “I apologize for my poor temper, Kattea. Your manners have been much better than mine. We would be delighted to accept your offer of hospitality.”

*

Kattea was a bustling whirlwind of energy and concentration for the next twenty minutes. The house was modest in size and it was clear that they had no servants—and that Kattea did not mind, or even recognize, the absence. She chattered politely but enthusiastically, she beamed and she reproached Gilbert for his heavy silence—without once sounding anything less than familial.

For his part, Gilbert was stiff as dry wood and about as expressive. He laid his arms on the armrest of his large, curve-backed chair and left them there as if he was clinging to it for dear life.

The small dragon sat on Kaylin’s shoulder, perched as if to lunge. Bellusdeo sat to Kaylin’s right, with about as much warmth and friendliness as Gilbert himself showed. In that, she was more extreme than either Teela or Tain; the Barrani had made an art of friendly, polite, charming death.

Kaylin wondered, as Kattea brought both water and wine, where she’d learned to entertain guests. Perhaps she had a mother who was also out of the house. Kaylin hesitated to ask; she found answering the question hard to handle gracefully herself, and she was no longer a child.

Everyone present, however, was aware that Kattea was a child, and one who clearly looked up to Gilbert. Gilbert had again asked that Kattea go to her room, but Kattea ignored the request. After it was gently made a third time, Gilbert surrendered.

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