Each beat had its own route. Even Elani. Those routes, however, were considered by most beat Hawks to be general guidelines, and deviation from the suggested norm was not career-threatening. Flexibility was a necessity in the life of a beat Hawk, something that the higher-ups did understand, except when it came to quartermasters and uniforms.
Kaylin knew the warrens because she had come here with Teela and Tain before she had been given a rank and a uniform of her own.
Being with Barrani, and not hiding from them, had been a novel experience. She understood why people in the warrens vanished from visible windows or door frames as the two Hawks walked by. She also understood that the very young, very stupid, or very ambitious could—and occasionally did—attempt to take Hawks down.
It was the reason this was considered a Barrani beat. If the gangs felt they were equal to two officers with tabards, the equation changed markedly when the people who were wearing the tabards were Immortal. The gangs here had lived their lives in the maze of buildings and compromises that were the warrens. They could be forgiven for assuming the law was irrelevant, because in most obvious ways in their limited experience, it was.
It had been both irrelevant and a daydream in the fiefs of Kaylin’s youth, and at least these streets didn’t have Ferals literally devouring the unwary.
But...was that really any better? She wanted to slap herself for even thinking it. Clearly she’d been too comfortable, too safe, for too long. The Ferals were death. You had a hope of negotiating with anything else.
“You’re thinking, again.”
“Ferals,” Kaylin told the Dragon. “We were more terrified of Ferals than almost anything else.” Small and squawky snorted dismissively. Bellusdeo didn’t bother, but it was clear she felt the same.
“That wasn’t a terrified face.”
“It’s just...they weren’t personal. They weren’t plotting against us. They wanted one thing: to eat us. We wanted one thing: to avoid them. The cost for failure was high, but...it wasn’t personal. Does that make sense?”
“Yes. Why are you thinking of that here?”
“Because the East Warrens are the closest the city comes to the fiefs I grew up in.”
Bellusdeo frowned. “I would like a word with your Emperor.”
“Have several. But before you do, are you implying that your city didn’t have warrens?”
Bellusdeo was silent for several steps. “No. I couldn’t realistically imply that. Some of my best soldiers, however, probably came out of my version of your warrens.” She smiled and added, “We’re being followed.”
“Oh, probably.”
“Will they attack us?”
“They might. They’re used to seeing Barrani in these tabards; the Barrani have been doing this beat for a long time, now. Seeing normal mortals—”
Bellusdeo coughed.
“They can’t see the color of your eyes from here, and you don’t look Barrani at a distance. Even if they could, I doubt over half would realize what the eye color meant. For obvious reasons, there aren’t a lot of Dragons randomly wandering the streets. If they do attack, though, going full-on Dragon would probably be the fastest way to end the fight.”
“I thought that was illegal.”
“You’ve always gotten away with it before.”
“Kaylin.”
She stopped talking at the sound of Severn’s voice. She didn’t, however, stop walking. She didn’t even glance in his direction. She knew where he was, knew how far away, knew how ready he was for a fight. “Where?”
“The old town hall.”
She glanced down the street toward the tallest building in the warren. It stood at the edge of this particular beat, but it had, some indeterminate length of time ago, been a rallying point in a besieged city. It was called the town hall because historical rumor suggested it had been built for that purpose. Whether it had seen any use in that capacity was an entirely different question.
Her small dragon, however, drew himself into the seated posture that implied he was ready for a fight. Or a bellow of outrage. Since she hadn’t done anything to warrant the latter, she tensed, but didn’t break her slow, steady stride.
Not until a familiar voice said, “This is not the place for you.”
Bellusdeo came to an immediate stop. Golden eyes reddened significantly into the orange that was anger, worry or fear—and Bellusdeo was not afraid of the owner of that voice. “What,” she said, in her icy, regal queen tone, “are you doing here?”
Mandoran, however, failed to materialize.
The small dragon squawked and then lifted a wing to cover Kaylin’s eyes. The wing was translucent, of course, but looking through it often revealed hidden things. Or worse. Mandoran wasn’t so much standing in the street as drifting above it.
“What are you doing here?” Kaylin demanded, repeating the gold Dragon’s words. Because Bellusdeo had stopped walking, she had come to a stop as well, the rhythm of patrol abruptly broken.
“Teela found out that you’d been sent to the East Warrens on patrol.”
“Yes. And?”
Mandoran made a face. “She doesn’t want you in the East Warrens. But it’s not actually you she’s worried about.”
Mandoran, Kaylin decided, was an idiot. Had she been in possession of his True Name, she’d be shouting at the top of her lungs in his figurative ears. His wince made clear that someone in his cohort—likely Teela—had had the same thought.
Sadly, Bellusdeo wasn’t as oblivious as Mandoran. “She couldn’t possibly be worried about me.”
“Maggaron’s been sulking for weeks now because he’s not allowed to accompany you—and you know how he hates being left out of a fight.”
Bellusdeo’s brows rose, briefly, in Kaylin’s direction—but to do that, she had to break her glare. “Ask Teela how political this is.”
Mandoran, unlike most of the Barrani she had known before the cohort, was terrible at lying. He didn’t try. “She says you’re likely to survive, and the miscreant she’s worried about—the soon-to-be possible miscreant—would take heat for any attack against you in the High Court. Problem is, he’s not part of the High Court, and hasn’t been for some time.”
“You have an outcaste living in the warrens?” At Mandoran’s expression, Bellusdeo added, “It wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened.”
“This would not be my idea of a safe hiding place.” Mandoran’s grimace was heavy with disgust; it was also brief. He turned to Kaylin. “Teela wants you out of the warrens.”
“Marcus doesn’t. And you can tell her I said so.”
“I won’t repeat what she just said.”
“Why not? I’ve heard it all before.”
“Yes, but the Dragon probably hasn’t, and you know the Emperor’s just going to blame you if she starts using that kind of language.” For a moment, his expression looked normal but his color was entirely off. His hair seemed almost white, his skin, blue. And his eyes were not Barrani colored at all.
The small dragon squawked, and Mandoran cursed. He turned toward the old town hall. Kaylin tracked the direction of his gaze with little effort.
She froze.
Standing at the peak of the decrepit tower roof was a Barrani.
* * *
Unlike Mandoran’s, his coloring was more or less the norm for Barrani: his hair was black, his skin ivory. At this distance, his eyes couldn’t clearly be seen, but Kaylin would have bet her own money that they were Barrani blue. She hadn’t managed to contain her surprise enough to look away, and although she couldn’t see the color of his eyes, she saw the subtle shift in their shape.
He was invisible, and had expected to remain so. She had seen him. Math had never been Kaylin’s strong suit, but even she could handle one plus one.
“Time to move. Move.”
Severn was armed, but had not yet unwound his weapon chain; not even in the fiefs did he fully arm himself unless it was night. She headed into the nearest narrow alley to break the line of sight, and everyone except Mandoran followed.
She practically spit his name in a whisper that would have been a hiss had his name had any sibilants.
“He can’t see me.”
“Don’t be so certain of that.”
“Even if I were visible, I wouldn’t be too worried. It’s the Dragon he’s going to be aiming for.”
“He can try,” the Dragon snapped. It obviously annoyed her to have to run and hide from Barrani. Then again, it often annoyed her to have to run, period. She was a Dragon.
“Are all Dragons like this?” Mandoran asked, as if he did have Kaylin’s True Name, and had heard the thought.
“Not the time for this,” Kaylin snapped back. “What is he doing?”
“Moving.”
“Coming down?”
“Yes. In case you’re worried, he’s not using the stairs.”
“Given the rest of the exterior, I doubt the stairs would support his weight.”
Mandoran swore.
“What’s happening?”
“He can, apparently, see me.”
Bellusdeo snorted smoke.
“I’m going to head back home now, while Teela is only enraged. She can’t leave the office if she wants to retain the tabard—but she’s considering it anyway.” True to his word, Mandoran faded from sight. Kaylin didn’t see him leave, but knew the moment he was no longer present.
“I’m going to strangle Mandoran,” Bellusdeo said, in a soft voice. “The minute we get home. I’m going to throttle the life out of him.”
“Fire would be faster,” Kaylin observed. She had retreated—they had all retreated—to the middle of the alley; there were walls to either side, and the windows they possessed weren’t large enough to cause tactical problems.
“Exactly.”
Severn had finished unwinding the chain, although this was not the place to make full use of it; the alley was too narrow. All of the alleys in the warrens were. “He’s coming.”
Kaylin nodded, her expression shifting. The familiar kept one wing across both of her eyes. She shook her head. “Go to Bellusdeo,” she told the translucent, winged creature. “Now.”
“I don’t need his protection—”
“No, I do. If anything happens to me, I’ll recover. Unless I’m dead. If anything happens to you, I’ll only wish I was dead. Probably forever.” She grimaced.
Severn said, “Magic?”
She nodded. Her skin was beginning to tingle. Tingling was not painful, but in general, it didn’t stop there. Kaylin’s allergy to magic—if allergy was the wrong word, it was the one she used anyway—made certain types of magic actively painful. It was why she hated doorwards and other modern security features. Invisibility—and there were whole libraries about how it worked, all jealously guarded by mages—was not a small magic. It wasn’t considered nearly as insignificant as a doorward.
The small dragon resolutely remained on her shoulder. “He’s not ditching the invisibility,” she said, glaring at her familiar. If he wouldn’t leave her shoulder, she’d have to move. The familiar was the only certain protection that either of them had against a large influx of magic, but his protection didn’t work at a distance.
The familiar squawked. It was a surprisingly quiet sound, given that he was sitting so close to her unprotected ear.
“Severn.”
He shook his head without looking back. He carried both blades; the chain was slack between them, traveling around his back. He shifted position. The links of chain made no sound as he did so.
* * *
The possible assailant did not pause to summon guards of any kind. Kaylin heard exactly zero footsteps; if he was moving—and the growing ache of her skin heavily implied that he was—he was moving silently. As silently as Severn would were their situations reversed.
Bellusdeo muttered something Kaylin didn’t catch. That should have been a clue. The Dragon did not mutter. But she felt the sharp sting of new magic in the silence that followed.
“I never enjoyed magical studies,” Bellusdeo said. She didn’t bother to lower her voice; she might have raised it a notch. She walked past Kaylin, but remained—barely—in the periphery of the familiar’s possible protection.
The ostensibly invisible Barrani who had the ability to fall well, if not fly, rounded the corner. He came to a stop, framed by the corners of the two buildings that formed the alley’s walls. His hair was a long drape of black that framed his face and fell out of sight down his back. His eyes were, as Kaylin expected they would be, blue.
Kaylin moved to stand beside the gold Dragon, rather than behind her.
Severn, who was closer to the alley’s mouth than either of them, did not move at all.
“So,” the Barrani said, “it is true. There is a Dragon among the Hawks.”
* * *
Kaylin knew the moment the Barrani chose to drop his invisibility; the familiar lowered his wing. But the motion caught the Barrani’s eyes, and they rounded. When his glance returned to Bellusdeo, they instantly narrowed again. “He is yours?” he demanded, of the Dragon.
The familiar squawked.
The man blinked. Barrani were famous for their composure under duress, and he seemed to recall this as he once again focused on Bellusdeo. “Magic was used to great effect in the wars against your kind.”
“Oh, indeed. But magic wasn’t required against yours.”
He stiffened. Bellusdeo was already pretty stiff. Kaylin, familiar notwithstanding, was irrelevant. Severn was apparently irrelevant, too. The Barrani had not once looked in his direction.
Not once...
Yes, Severn said. I am, while I remain still, effectively invisible. It doesn’t last.
It just lets you get the drop on your enemies.
Yes. If necessary.
It’s not necessary yet.
No. I’m uncertain who will break the law here first: Bellusdeo or the outcaste.
Kaylin was silent for another long beat, even on the inside of her own head. What do you mean, “outcaste”?
You don’t recognize him?
How could I? I’ve never seen him before. If he’s a fugitive, he hasn’t been captured in Records, at least not in the last five years. She’d made a furtive study of the Records that involved Barrani, Barrani crime, and the law. There hadn’t actually been that many available to an official mascot. Severn, who is he?
When he is addressed at all, I imagine he is called Candallar.
She frowned. Candallar? That’s one of the fiefs. And stopped. And looked. She’d asked, of course, before she’d come out on patrol. She’d had suspicions. But suspicions, apparently, weren’t visceral enough.
She knew what a fieflord could do in his own fief. If Severn was right, he wasn’t in his fief now. He was separate from the power that made him fieflord. Then again, so was Nightshade when he visited, and she would never consider his power insignificant.
She reached out and touched Bellusdeo’s regulation sleeve. “I think we should have this conversation somewhere else.”
“Oh?” the Dragon replied—without looking away from the Barrani. “Where did you have in mind?”
“Someplace less instantly flammable.” Before Bellusdeo could answer, Kaylin stepped forward, and then in front of her. Bellusdeo was taller, but not by as much as Teela or Tain. The tabard of the Hawk was front and center, and it grounded Kaylin. She understood it was nothing to hide behind—not safely—but it had never been about hiding, to Kaylin.
“Private Kaylin Neya,” she said, to the man Severn had named fieflord. The familiar squawked. “And this is my familiar.” His eyes did widen again, and it took them longer to revert to their less surprised shape. “You aren’t a citizen of Elantra.”
“In as much as citizens of any power are required to swear allegiance to the Eternal Emperor?”
“Yes.”
“It may come as a surprise to you, officer, but yes. Yes, I am.”
Bellusdeo snorted. There was smoke in it, which wafted across the back of Kaylin’s neck without charring anything.
Candallar’s gaze was pure Barrani condescension. “You presuppose I am not a member of the Barrani Court, or possibly the Barrani race. The supposition is correct: I am not. But my vow of allegiance to the Emperor—forced on me many years ago, I might add—has never been broken. I believe that I would still be considered a citizen of Elantra. The discretion would, of course, be the Emperor’s. And given politics, it would be difficult were he to accept me as a citizen of his empire when my own people do not acknowledge my existence at all, except perhaps as a blood sport.” His smile was slender, cold, and very sharp.
Bellusdeo snorted again. This time, Kaylin heard irritation, not threat, in the sound. She moved.
“The Dragon, however,” the Barrani said, “is not technically a citizen of Elantra.”
Kaylin was aware that she’d started this line of reasoning. Marcus had often said she was too clever for her own good, and too lacking in wisdom for anyone else’s. “Neither are most mortals, if citizenship is defined by a literal oath of allegiance. Most of us can’t talk from birth, and even if we could, the Emperor wouldn’t consider an infant’s oath binding.” She remembered just how much she hated politics. It shouldn’t have been hard to forget.
“I’m an officer of the Emperor’s Law, and according to an officer of that law, the Dragon is a citizen.” She folded her arms. The familiar squawked.
“And the...familiar...as you call it, is now standard issue for an officer of the law?”
“The familiar is considered acceptable to the Emperor.”
“You’ve asked in person?”
“Yes, as it happens.”
Don’t let him goad you, Severn said, an urgency to the words.
She didn’t argue, because he was right. She was annoyed. She’d let annoyance speak.
“I see.” He smiled. “I mean no disrespect to the tabard, officer, and none to the Emperor to whom I swore my oath.”
“Why are you here?”
“I occasionally come across the Ablayne—or the wall—to meet with old friends. Surely that is not considered criminal.”
“Not in and of itself, no. Would those friends by chance be Hawks?”
“I have a great respect for Imperial Law.”
“Why are you even here?”
“As I said—”
“I heard what you said.” She was absolutely certain that his presence and the altercation that had grounded all Barrani Hawks were connected. He could have worn a sandwich board the size of Margot’s stupid sign declaring himself part of a conspiracy, and it wouldn’t have been more obvious.
To make it worse, the Barrani blue of his eyes had faded into blue-green, which was as casual a color as Barrani ever adopted when dealing with strangers. They darkened again as Bellusdeo snorted. Clearly, if a mortal Hawk was insignificant, a Dragon was not.
“I will take my leave, officer, unless you wish to abuse your power by attempting to—illegally—arrest me.”
For one long minute she entertained fantasies of doing exactly that. But if he resisted, it would be the Dragon who would bear the brunt of the fight. The Dragon and the buildings in the warrens, which, although run-down, still housed a lot of people.
And it wasn’t as if it wouldn’t be obvious who he’d come to meet, or who he’d been meeting. The duty roster was the Hawk version of public knowledge. She gave him a curt nod, and headed out of the alley, making certain not to turn her back on him.
He stopped her—with a word. Given Bellusdeo’s presence, he kept his distance. “Wait.”
Kaylin didn’t answer.
“You had another companion before I arrived.”
She thought of Severn, said nothing. Severn, however, said, He’s not asking about me. Mortal, remember. He still hadn’t moved, and the fieflord did not appear to have noticed him.
“You must be mistaken,” Kaylin said sweetly. “Without Imperial permission, Hawks don’t patrol with random people.”
His gaze narrowed instantly at the tone of her voice. “I warn you,” he began.
Bellusdeo exhaled a small stream of fire. It was focused on the road some three feet to his side. She said nothing, and did nothing else. Her eyes were red orange. His were now dark blue.
“Don’t bother with the sword,” Kaylin told him, her voice conversational and much more cheerful. “Unless it’s one of The Three, it’s going to do more damage to the weapon than it will to the Dragon—but it’ll probably make her angrier. And before you say anything else, I’ve seen two of the three, and I’m pretty sure I know who owns the third one.”
She could practically hear Severn smacking his forehead, and shut her mouth.
“Private Neya,” Candallar said. He surprised her; he swept her a bow. “Give my regards to your master.”
She frowned and then remembered the mark—the flower—that adorned her cheek.
Yes, a familiar voice said. He understands what it means. If he harms you—at all—I will destroy him.
The word “master” really rankled. She opened her mouth. Shut it. “I seldom have occasion to meet the Emperor in person, but if I do, I’ll pass it along.”
* * *
“What in the hells was all that about?” Kaylin demanded an hour later, when Severn extricated himself from the warrens. She’d wanted to wait—she knew that you didn’t patrol solo, and Severn would be solo. Severn, however, pointed out that he’d spent the greater part of his Halls of Law career as a Wolf, and that was the definition of solo unless really big crap was about to go down.
He also pointed out that she had Bellusdeo.
“You know as much as I do.”
“You knew he was a fieflord.”
His shrug was pure fief. “I’ve spent a few years dealing with fugitive Barrani. Fugitive Barrani, unlike fugitive mortals, are frequently exceptionally political when they have the personal power and influence. Candallar has some power. He isn’t Nightshade; Nightshade’s closest ties are at the heart of the High Court.”
“The Consort?”
“She is not considered political.”
“But she’s—”
“She’s powerful. She might be the only Barrani who has a great deal of personal power coupled with the will to be neutral. No one will openly slight her, but...her brother is High Lord and there is no one he values more. Insulting or slighting the Consort is more dangerous than insulting or slighting the High Lord when it comes to the High Lord’s very political response. The High Lord fails to acknowledge Nightshade. He has never forbidden his sister’s acknowledgement.”
Kaylin nodded, preoccupied. “This beat was Tagraine and Canatel’s.”
“...Yes.”
Technically, they weren’t done with their patrolling duties. But given Mandoran and Teela, Kaylin thought the appearance of the fieflord of Candallar was newsworthy enough she’d be forgiven for abandoning them this one time. Had she been patrolling Elani, she would have dropped by any of a number of places to borrow their mirror and report in; most of the citizens of the East Warrens were too poor to own mirrors—and those who weren’t were likely to respond to such a request with violence.
Kaylin wanted to pass the information on to someone who was paid to deal with politics, but she was still disgruntled as they headed for home. Or rather, the Halls of Law. “You’re sure we couldn’t just arrest the bastard?”
“On what grounds?”
“Suspicion of conspiracy?”
“Conspiracy to do what? At best, we’ll have the caste court dropping on our collective heads via the Hawklord. This is Barrani politics. The Hawks don’t touch it for a reason.”
“But—”
“Even if it involves Annarion, Mandoran or Teela, it’s still Barrani politics. They’re never going to drag the Halls into a Barrani political war. Until and unless we can show that Candallar is illegally affecting non-Barrani, we have no grounds for either arrest or suspicion.”
Bellusdeo had said very little for half of the walk back to the halls. She did, however, add, “Do you really want a fieflord strolling through the Halls of Law? Severn is right, of course; we’re not going to be able to hold him. He clearly understands the full weight of Imperial Law, and he knows what the Hawks’ constraints are. Which marks him as somewhat unusual.”
“Why?”
“Because he actually believes those constraints are genuine. Even were he to agree to accompany us to the office, he believes that the rules that govern you would protect him. Is he right?”
Kaylin kicked a stone. “Probably.”
“How many Barrani do you know who would believe that?”
“Almost all of them.”
“Until recently, she only knew Hawks,” Severn reminded the Dragon.
“Yes, well.”
“And the Barrani Hawks believe in the law,” Kaylin added.
“The Barrani Hawks uphold the law. I would not, however, be surprised to hear that they consider it a game—much like the card games you play on breaks. Yes, they accept the various rules, but they’re looking for ways to game the system to win. Breaking the rules forfeits the game.”
“No one dedicates their lives to playing cards.” Kaylin frowned, considering the petty crimes divisions. “...Almost no one.”
“No, probably not. But I wouldn’t put it past Mandoran.”
“What are the odds we’ve done business with Candallar before?” Kaylin suddenly demanded. Of Severn.
He raised a brow.
“We know that Nightshade’s been contacted—or at the very least had his contact returned—by someone in the Halls. Is it that unlikely that Candallar is similar?”
It was Bellusdeo who answered. “To the Barrani, if I understand Teela correctly, both Nightshade and Candallar would be considered—are considered—necessary evils. They hold the Towers. The Towers keep Ravellon and its Shadows from spilling out into the rest of the world and destroying it.” There was a moment of bitter silence. “In my world, Towers such as those did not exist. Had they, I would not be here.”
The reminder of the enormity of the Dragon’s loss kind of killed the rest of the conversation, and it didn’t resume again until they’d reached the Halls of Law.