But the Aerian Caste Court was entirely unfamiliar to Kaylin. Kaylin tried briefly to imagine Moran throwing herself on the mercy of anything, and came up blank. She stared, instead, at the very closed infirmary door. Aerians, as a general rule, weren’t fond of closed doors; this one was the equivalent of writing GET LOST in large, unfriendly letters.
Kaylin tried the door anyway. It wasn’t locked—during normal operating hours, it wouldn’t be. Moran was seated, back toward the door, displaying her injuries. “Unless you’re dying,” she said, without turning, “I’m busy.” Her tone also indicated that physical state could be changed.
The small dragon left Kaylin’s shoulder before she could stop him—and she did try. He flew straight to Moran, and landed, somewhat messily, on what appeared to be her paperwork. Kaylin cringed. Her familiar squawked.
Moran’s ill humor did not immediately descend on the small, winged creature—anyone else would have lost a hand. “Private,” she said, still refusing to turn around, “this is not a good time to have a discussion. The infirmary—absent usual emergencies—is closed.”
“I didn’t come here because I’m injured.” Or because she wanted to be, but Kaylin chose to leave that out. “I came because you’re living here.”
Moran exhaled heavily. “Come and get your pet.”
Squawk.
“Or whatever it is you call him.”
“I call him ‘small and squawky.’”
“Which has the advantage of being accurate, I suppose.” Moran finally turned on her stool. She looked bruised and haggard; her hair was flat and dull, and her eyes were gray—a dark gray, not the ash-gray that meant serenity. “Why are you here?”
“Because you’re living in the infirmary.” Moran opened her mouth and Kaylin lifted a hand. “The only so-called living quarters in the Halls of Law are the cells. I have this on the authority of the Hawklord—because when I appeared in his Tower years ago, that’s exactly what he told me.”
Moran’s brows rose.
“Marcus insists that we lead by example. You’re several ranks above me. You’re not—that I know of—living in a cell.”
Teela, who had entered the room behind Kaylin, said a resounding nothing.
“You would have hated my old apartment—you would have twisted a wing just getting through the door. But I have a new place. Maybe you’ve heard something about it?”
“Not a lot. Caitlin mentioned she’d be visiting sometime next week.”
Not to Kaylin, but that was irrelevant. There was never a day on which Kaylin wouldn’t be happy to allow Caitlin into her home—she had even given her keys to the first one. “When you say not a lot—”
“I know you’re living with Bellusdeo and two Barrani who are visiting the city.” Her eye color slid toward blue. Aerian blue wasn’t Barrani blue, but the color shift indicated pretty much the same thing. Which of course meant Moran had heard a lot more than she was letting on.
“You forgot the Norannir. I’ve got a Norannir in residence, as well.”
“You’ve got one of the giants in your home?”
Kaylin nodded.
“Does he fit?”
“The common ceilings are pretty high. I’ve got a tower—much like the Hawklord’s Tower—as well, although that won’t be as useful to you right now.”
Moran folded her arms.
“You probably don’t want to live with me, and I get that. You’ve probably never lived anywhere where someone could just lob an Arcane bomb if they wanted you dead.”
“Not recently, no.”
Kaylin stopped. Moran’s expression was deadly serious. “You’ve had someone lob an Arcane bomb into your home?”
“Not recently,” Moran repeated. “And that is an entirely personal matter; it has nothing to do with the Hawks.”
Kaylin lost track of most of her words and attempted to gather them again. “Please don’t tell me you’re staying in the Halls of Law because their base protections are so strong.”
“Fine.”
“Moran—”
“I can’t get to and from the Aerie in my current state. I won’t abandon my responsibilities here while I laze about waiting to heal. I will not,” she added, in the same dire tone, “allow you to heal me—we’ve had this discussion before.” She exhaled. “And no, I’m not comfortable accepting hospitality in another’s home at the present time.”
“The Emperor is willing to let Bellusdeo stay with me.”
“Good for him.”
“He even said he’d enjoy seeing the Barrani attempt to assassinate her again. He doesn’t think they’d survive even the attempt.”
Moran stilled. “You’re paraphrasing.”
“I’m not Barrani—I don’t remember his exact words.”
“Wait. You’re claiming that you heard the Emperor say this directly?”