“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.
*
The Arkon, Caitlin told them—both Hawks studiously avoiding Marcus’s desk—had requested their presence in the Imperial Library. Bellusdeo, Tain and Severn would meet them there.
That left only one item on Kaylin’s list of things to do in this location. She headed to the infirmary. Moran was significant to the Aerian Caste Court. Kaylin knew the Human Caste Court—and didn’t particularly care for it—but it seemed to be a type of figurehead organization of the rich and powerful. The Caste Court could, in theory, rescue mortals from Imperial Law by invoking the laws of exception—and it had, historically. None of those exceptions had been called for in Kaylin’s seven years with the force.
She understood the composition of the Barrani Caste Court; they had never invoked laws of exception. Anyone Barrani who might have benefited from them wound up dead—very obviously dead—in a public space. If the Barrani in question had thrown themselves on the mercy of the Imperial Courts, however, their desire or request took precedence, whether the racial Caste Court liked it or not.