Cast In Honour. Michelle Sagara

      “If I answer, he will ask for an update. If I give him an update that reflects reality, he will almost certainly order you—and Corporal Handred—from the building. Possibly from the district.”

      “He sent us.”

      “Yes. But you have the most valuable citizen in the Empire as your shadow today. Examining corpses for possible magical taint is unlikely to harm her. Examining a deserted building for possible Shadows, not so much.”

      Kaylin wanted to slap herself, hard. She did not, however, continue to argue with Teela. Instead, she looked guiltily at Bellusdeo, who she could just see over Severn’s shoulder. Bellusdeo had chosen not to hear the exchange, and given that she was in the literal middle of it, that took deliberate effort.

      “That citizen,” Teela continued, when interruption or argument failed to stop her, “has seen more Shadow war than we have. Her presence might be of value in this investigation.”

      Kaylin was acutely aware of just how little that would matter to the Emperor, but held her peace, since she was also acutely aware of how much it would mean to Bellusdeo. Bellusdeo was the most important single individual in the Empire—in the opinion of the Emperor. As she was the only surviving female Dragon, a life of decadent luxury was hers for the taking. She didn’t need to work or take responsibility for anything that occurred within Elantra; she never needed to lift a finger again in her life, never mind actually risk it on anything.

      And it was killing her.

      “You win.” Kaylin continued down the stairs, but felt compelled to add, “But it’s me he’s going to be mad at.”

      “In this, your rank will preserve most of your hide. You’re a private. I’m a corporal.”

      “Don’t remind me.”

      * * *

      They didn’t make it all the way down the stairs; Bellusdeo stopped walking suddenly, and Severn stopped just before he ran into her back. Kaylin, worrying about Bellusdeo, stopped when she ran into Severn’s back.

      “What is it?” she asked.

      Bellusdeo said, “The door. The front door.”

      Kaylin pivoted and ran up the basement stairs. The small dragon folded his wings, slimming the lines of his body; for once he didn’t drape himself across Kaylin’s shoulders like a spineless, translucent shawl.

      Two people stood in the front vestibule. One was a tall, slender man whose skin was pale in a way that reminded Kaylin too much of corpses. His clothing was fine; if he appeared at the Imperial Palace, he was unlikely to be sent to the trade entrance, unlike Kaylin herself. His hair was darker than Kaylin’s, his eyes darker, as well. He was just a smidge taller than Severn.

      The second person was a young girl of intermediate age—not enough of her was visible behind the man. Her hair seemed to be a tightly braided, pale brown without the highlights that often made paler hair stand out, and her skin was that mix of ruddy and pale that implied temporary ill health—at least in the young of Kaylin’s acquaintance. But she clearly got more sun than the man who stood between the Hawks and the girl like a shield.

      “What,” he asked, in a tone that made ice seem warm, “are you doing in my home?”

      The girl peered out from behind his back, then tugged on his sleeve.

      He glanced down at her, his expression softening.

      “They’re Hawks,” she whispered. It seemed to Kaylin that she was attempting to either comfort or encourage him.

      “There was some trouble in the neighborhood late last night or early this morning,” Teela told him, taking over the conversation as she pushed herself to the front of their five-person group; the hall had become quite crowded. “We’re here to investigate that.”

      “I assure you that there was no difficulty in this house.”

      The small dragon squawked softly.

      He was not, however, inaudible, and the sound immediately drew two stares. The man’s was frozen and unblinking; he seemed to become a motionless, breathless statue. But the girl came out from behind him, her eyes wide and bright with curiosity. They were lighter in color than they’d first appeared. She took two quick steps, but the man caught her by the shoulder, pulling her back.

      Kaylin understood his cautious gesture and immediately crossed the hall toward her; no one followed.

      “Is it alive?” the girl asked in a hushed voice.

      The small dragon leaned down and squawked more emphatically, which was answer enough.

      “Look at it! Look at it!”

      The man was doing exactly that; he seemed to shake immobility off with great effort. The smile he offered the girl was, however, genuine. “I am. Where did you come by that creature?”

      “Long story,” Kaylin replied. To the girl, she added, “I think he’s one of a kind.”

      “Can I hold him?”

      Kaylin glanced at the small dragon, who appeared to be sighing in resignation. He opened his wings, hit Kaylin in the face with the left one and hopped off her shoulder. The girl held out her hands; he hovered above them dubiously.

      “Don’t grab him, and don’t squeeze—he hates that.” She actually had no idea if that was true, but it was a safe assumption.

      The girl’s nod was energetic as the small dragon did, finally, land in her hands. He lifted his head and sniffed her hair, and then her cheeks, while she giggled. “It tickles!”

      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