“You look,” Bellusdeo said, out of the corner of her mouth, “as if you’re heading to an execution. Probably your own.”
“It’s Tanner.”
“What about Tanner?”
“He expects real trouble.”
“And Clint?”
“He...expects trouble from or for me.” Kaylin had done nothing wrong—that she knew of—and she was certain Teela hadn’t brought her personal troubles to the Halls of Law.
Was it Moran? Although she was technically still employed as a sergeant, she had been winding down the duties she performed for the Halls and had been training her replacement. Or rather, had been interviewing and browbeating the possible applicants. Her excuse for this—besides her obvious desire to remain in the infirmary—was that the infirmary needed someone who was fully capable of glaring down a Leontine when the Leontine was in an almost murderously foul mood.
To give her credit, Moran was perfectly capable of that.
But most people, Kaylin included, wouldn’t be. Bellusdeo had suggested that Kaylin be considered for the position, pointing out that Kaylin’s ability to heal would be well suited to the job. Moran’s eyes had nearly fallen out of their sockets. “Absolutely not. The Hawks would walk all over her.” Kaylin attempted to protest, but in truth, she was a private, and when Marcus went all fang-faced, she had to control the visceral urge to dive under the nearest desk.
Moran had faced him down. And to be fair to Moran and her interview process, Kaylin couldn’t think of many people who could, Hawk or no. Bellusdeo could, but she was not seconded to the service. Serving the Halls implied serving the Emperor. And she hadn’t so much warmed to him as cooled enough that his title did not send her into red-eyed Dragon resentment.
“You’re thinking with your mouth open,” Tanner observed, while Kaylin tried to choose smart words.
She shrugged and gave up. “What’s happening inside?”
The two guards exchanged a glance. “It doesn’t concern you directly,” Clint said. Of course it was Clint.
“It’s not Moran, is it?”
“No—but even I’ve come to pity the possible candidates for replacement.”
“I don’t think she wants to leave.”
“Betting?”
Kaylin considered it. “No.”
“And now I know I’m actually dreaming.”
“She’ll go. The thing that made her a good sergeant won’t let her stay in the Halls. I just hope she beats the Aerian Caste Court into decent shape. It might be the first time in Aerian history that we have someone in high places on our side. But if it’s not Moran, what’s happened?”
“There’s been...a bit of a problem.”
“Tanner.”
“Fine. There’s been a lot of a problem.”
Kaylin wanted to shriek.
“We’re not allowed to discuss it,” Clint added. “But you’ll want to step carefully the moment you pass Caitlin’s desk.” He hesitated, his eyes a shade of blue that meant worry, fear. “It’s the Barrani. Ours.”
* * *
Kaylin was silent as she sped through the Halls. Bellusdeo kept easy pace with her, but her eyes had shaded to Dragon orange. Her facial expression hadn’t changed at all. She didn’t consider the Barrani a threat.
But she was worried.
The Barrani Hawks were a small force in and of themselves. Their partners were other Barrani, except on very rare occasion, and usually when a Barrani and a human were partnered, it was Kaylin and Teela. The Barrani could be sent in to break up a drug ring and be expected to both succeed and survive. Humans had a much higher mortality rate.
They had lost one member of the Barrani force during the difficulties with the Aerian Caste Court; one of the Barrani guards had carried an offer from a member of the High Court to one of the human prisoners. That he hadn’t murdered the prisoner was in his favor, and Kaylin, in the end, felt that booting him off the force was too harsh. But Teela considered it necessary. There’d been an argument or two about it, and it hadn’t been perfectly civil, either.
Even the West Room, with its magical silence, couldn’t entirely absorb Leontine cursing. As far as Kaylin was concerned, the Hawk hadn’t broken any laws, and hadn’t disgraced his oaths. He had, however, introduced new problems for the High Halls.
In the end, Teela called Kaylin softhearted, and Marcus called her softheaded. So, they were down another Barrani. They had already lost Barrani Hawks on the night the Barrani ancestors, for want of a better word, had attacked the High Halls. Kaylin had mourned—everyone had—at a distance. The Barrani considered public grief a besetting weakness, to use Caitlin’s words, and no one wanted to offend them. Not when they were so very blue-eyed and grim.
“You’re worried about Teela,” Kaylin said to the gold Dragon, as they jogged down the hall.
“You aren’t?”
“I am, but Teela will rip my throat out if she sees it.”
“Teela is not Leontine.”
“Fine. She’ll snap my neck. Better?”
“Marginally. There are days when I do not understand why the Emperor attempts to force all of his racially diverse population into one office. People are different.” She stopped, shook her head, and added, “And I’m being unfair.”
“You don’t usually worry about that.”
“No, but if you’re correct, it’s better than worrying about Teela.”
* * *
Teela was not at her desk, which wasn’t unusual. Given the absence of Teela, Tain wasn’t at his, either.
But Caitlin was sallow. Not white, because that wasn’t a color she often adopted, but a kind of pale yellow that implied nausea. Since she was human, her eyes were their usual brown, but they seem to have adopted new creases. She did smile when she caught sight of Private Neya and her Dragon friend—the only civilian, for want of a better word, allowed to accompany Kaylin on actual police work.
“Bellusdeo,” Caitlin said. She didn’t rise, and she didn’t address her by stuffy title. “I should warn you—”
“Red-eyed, long-fanged Leontine?”
This added welcome color to Caitlin’s cheeks. “That isn’t the way I would have worded it. But at the moment, I’d suggest Kaylin note the duty roster.”
“Was it changed?”
“No, dear.”
“Then I know where I’m supposed to be.”
“I think she’s implying—heavily—that you would like to be there instead of here. Or possibly that the office would appreciate if I were there, instead of here.”
“I’m sorry,” Caitlin said, sounding genuinely apologetic, “but there have been...communication difficulties this morning.” Kaylin stiffened, and seeing this, Caitlin added, “On Moran’s strict orders, the infirmary is, at the moment, off limits. She will allow you through the door if you are bleeding or suffering from a broken limb, and made clear that toes and fingers don’t count.”
“There was a fight?”
Caitlin did not reply.
Marcus did, in a fashion. His low growl filled the office, which was otherwise unnaturally silent. Silence was never good, here. Kaylin glanced at Bellusdeo, whose eyes remained a remarkable gold as she inclined her chin in Kaylin’s