Cast In Honour. Michelle Sagara

Kaylin’s description of the stairs, she chose not to stand in the center of them. They would have carried her weight, regardless. Bellusdeo stood back, beside Kaylin.

      “You can’t see anything?” Kaylin asked.

      Bellusdeo shook her head. “We have some methods of drawing Shadow out—of forcing it out—of its inanimate hiding places. But many of those methods are complicated; they can’t be done in an instant. To do it, the Norannir would have to come, and that would probably cause panic. You might recall the war drums?”

      Kaylin nodded.

      “They’re very effective, but definitely not quiet. I think Imperial permission would probably be necessary; at the very least, we would want to clear the drumming with the Swords. It is likely to cause some...unrest. Besides, your marks aren’t glowing.”

      “How can you tell?”

      “When they glow, they’re visible, even through your sleeves.” She glanced at the small dragon. “And Hope is alert, but not yet worried.”

      The small dragon crooned. It was not one of his regular noises. He then glanced at Severn and made the same sound. Severn nodded as if he understood. It was very frustrating. The familiar, in theory, was hers, and she seemed to be the only person who couldn’t understand him.

      Teela ignored them and knocked again, this time with more force. Tain lifted Kaylin—literally—and set her to one side; he then joined Teela in the space he’d cleared. Bellusdeo clearly found this amusing.

      “She’s not furniture,” Teela pointed out, as she waited for some sort of response from the resident of the house.

      “No. She’s too bony and too loud.”

      Teela knocked a third time. Nothing. Kaylin knew there wouldn’t be a fourth attempt.

      True to form, Teela raised her voice to let the occupants of the house—if they were present—know that Hawks were standing on their doorstep and were about to enter. This still elicited no response.

      It wasn’t completely unheard-of for a house to be empty at this time of day, but it was rare. The streets often felt as if they were full of small children and their elderly minders, but many actually stayed home if they had yards or a small space outdoors—something Kaylin had never had in her childhood.

      Teela tried the doorknob. The door was locked. Placing a hand on the door itself, the Barrani Hawk closed her eyes. “Bolted,” she murmured.

      “We can kick it in,” Tain offered.

      Teela, however, shook her head, her expression shifting. To Kaylin’s wing-masked eyes, the door looked entirely normal. “Kitling, the door?”

      Kaylin reached up and pushed the dragon wing aside. “No magic that I can see.”

      “None?”

      She pushed her way past Tain and looked again, bringing her eyes inches away from Teela’s resting palm. She frowned. “...Maybe.”

      “Best guess?”

      “Someone may have bolted the door from the outside. It wouldn’t be difficult for most mages.”

      “Not diligent students, at any rate.” Teela opened the bolt. Magically. She pushed the door inward and entered.

      * * *

      The house appeared to be empty, which wasn’t Kaylin’s immediate concern. As she once again lifted the dragon’s wing, she looked down at the floor. The crack they’d followed to this particular door couldn’t be seen; the wooden floor was worn in some areas, but solid. The sense of magic was absent.

      Teela walked into the house, announcing her presence loudly without actually shouting, a trick Kaylin had not quite mastered. The Barrani Hawk’s voice almost echoed. The house appeared to be empty. For one long beat, Kaylin felt that the house had always been empty.

      The building had two stories. They searched the first floor. Aside from the accumulated mess any house gathered and displayed when visitors weren’t expected, there was nothing that caught the eye. Teela headed upstairs, Tain in tow. Severn, Kaylin and Bellusdeo headed toward the back door to investigate the yard.

      The back door, like the front, was bolted; the windows that faced the yard were glassed and barred. The bars appeared to be new. Kaylin studied the bolt, first with small and squawky’s translucent wing, and then without; it appeared to be exactly what it was.

      “The bolt looks new,” Severn said.

      Kaylin nodded. She opened the door and looked down the few steps into a fenced yard. The fence, like the bars on the window, appeared to be newly constructed—and in this area of town, fences were rare. The yards were generally like one great common.

      The steps just beneath the door bore cracks similar to the road and the front steps of the house. They also—in winged view—looked as if they’d been broken instantly by too great a weight. The line led out into the yard. Kaylin followed it; it seemed to bisect one of the paths between cultivated vegetables, heading toward the distant quarries that provided the city with stone, among other things.

      No, she thought, as she slowed an already crawling pace. “Severn, does this look like normal yard to you?”

      “Yes. Except for the fence.”

      “I think there’s a...hatch. Up ahead.”

      “I can’t see it.”

      “Right. There’s obviously a basement here; let’s assume the invisible hatch and the basement are connected.”

      “I think it’s time we paid a visit to the house where the murders took place.”

      “Basement first.”

      * * *

      Teela and Tain had found nothing of importance upstairs. There were two obvious bedrooms and one sitting room; the sitting room was so pristine it was clear it wasn’t used for much. The bedrooms had small, shallow closets that were filled with clothing and linen, and dirty laundry had accumulated in the usual places—at least in Kaylin’s experience.

      The basement, however, was different.

      The moment Kaylin opened the door, her arms began to tingle. Teela, moving slowly and scanning carefully, sucked in air; when Kaylin glanced back at her, the Barrani’s eyes were a much darker shade of blue.

      “Teela?”

      “Be careful here.” She glanced once at the Dragon.

      The Dragon nodded, and the tingling across Kaylin’s marked skin grew sharper, though it was not yet painful. “What do you see?”

      “Magic” was Teela’s curt reply. She didn’t bother to draw a weapon; Kaylin drew a silent dagger. Severn had not let go of his blade.

      “I’ll go winged,” Kaylin said, as the small dragon huffed.

      “I’m not sure wingless wouldn’t be more useful at this point,” Teela said. She gestured and light appeared to her right, in about the position a lantern would hold if she’d been using one. The light bounced off the walls as they began their descent. Teela had once again taken point, and once again, Kaylin let her have it, choosing to take the rear instead.

      There was no trail of shadow on the stairs by which they made their descent. The narrow, steeply inclined steps were whole, if more obviously worn than the stone that girded the front and back of the house. The width forced Bellusdeo and the Hawks to move in single file.

      Kaylin nearly leaped out of her skin when she heard clanging bells. It was only when Teela cursed—in Leontine—that she remembered the portable mirror. “Are you going to answer that?”

      “No,” Teela replied. “It’s Marcus.”

      Kaylin hesitated.

      Teela, accustomed to Kaylin’s hesitations, said, “Marcus