Читать книгу Cast In Honour - Michelle Sagara - Страница 12
ОглавлениеGrethan, Evanton’s young Tha’alani apprentice, seemed uneasy as they entered the Keeper’s shop on Elani Street.
“Is he in a mood?” Kaylin asked.
“He is currently meditating in the Garden.” Which meant, roughly translated, “not yet.” Evanton didn’t care for interruptions when he was meditating. “But he left instructions to let you in if you happened to visit.”
The familiar flapped off her shoulders and headed for Grethan’s instead. For some reason, the familiar liked Grethan. Or at least saw him as harmless. The Tha’alani’s smile was quick and wide.
“Can you conjure the image Hope showed us at Gilbert’s?” Kaylin asked Teela as Grethan took them down the very narrow hall that led to the Keeper’s Garden.
“Yes. I’m not inclined to do it more than twice today, but I will show the Keeper if he asks. I already dislike almost everything about this investigation, and we’ve only barely begun.” She exhaled. “Mandoran is upset.”
“Annoyed or actually upset?”
“Annarion had a minor setback this afternoon.”
Kaylin missed a step.
“Helen was there. Mandoran seems to be more adept at containing himself. Annarion’s containment falters when he is too emotional.”
“What happened?”
“Unclear. Annarion won’t talk to me at all at the moment, and Mandoran won’t talk to me about Annarion. They would like me to clear up the difficulties here and send you home.”
She had a thing or two to ask them, as well. Gilbert had implied, strongly, that he had met Nightshade, and that Nightshade had been in Ravellon. This was not exactly the news that would fill his younger brother—his frantic, increasingly worried younger brother—with joy or peace.
* * *
After her most recent visit to the Keeper’s Garden, Kaylin wasn’t certain what to expect when Grethan opened the door. The Garden, however, appeared to be in its normal, contained state. The small hut, which had interesting internal dimensions, decor and occasionally visitors, was not in immediate sight; the pond, around which various small shrines had been erected, was.
Seated on a rounded, mossy rock was the Garden’s Keeper. Evanton was dressed not as cranky shopkeeper, but as a figure of mystical import: he wore very fine blue robes that lent him a majesty that his usual apron and jeweler’s glass did not.
The small dragon left the apprentice and returned to Kaylin’s shoulders, where he flopped like a badly made scarf. Evanton made no move to stand or greet them; his legs were crossed, his eyes closed. He did not look angry, frustrated or enraged; he did not look worried.
Of course, he didn’t look up at all.
Grethan hesitated to interrupt Evanton, and Kaylin well understood why. She was hesitant herself, and Kaylin didn’t have to live with his moods the way Grethan did. But the apprentice didn’t have three mysteriously disappearing corpses and a sentient Shadow to deal with.
She glanced at the familiar. She was almost grateful that he’d been with her when they’d met Gilbert; had he not been, she wasn’t certain what she would have done. Leaving Gilbert on his own and trusting him not to harm anyone went against all of her instincts. And yet...small and squawky had been, if not friendly, then at least comfortable in the Shadow’s presence.
Marcus would eat her throat, and she’d probably deserve it. But...he wouldn’t bite Bellusdeo, and he wouldn’t roar at Teela—and they’d both been present. She exhaled. She was almost certain Marcus would at least hear her out. She’d probably need to go shopping for a new desk for the Sergeant by the end of it, though.
“You are exhaling loudly enough to wake the dead,” Evanton said. He’d moved nothing but his mouth.
Grethan cringed.
“And,” he added, as his eyes flickered open, “you are late.”
* * *
“We had a bit of a problem on the Winding Path,” Kaylin began. Then she stopped. “Wait...late for what?”
This made Evanton chuckle. “You’ve clearly grown accustomed to apologizing for tardiness. Regardless, I was expecting you somewhat earlier.”
“I made lunch,” Grethan said quietly, alleviating Kaylin’s mounting silence.
“Good. I find myself somewhat hungry.” Evanton nodded to Grethan. “Lunch will be served in the Garden.”
“We’re in a bit of a hurry...” Kaylin trailed off, glancing at Teela, hoping for a bit of support. She got nothing.
“You’re too busy to keep an old, frail man company while he eats his first meal of the day?”
“...Or not.” She took a seat beside him, though she was not at all hungry, for once. Teela did not sit; she folded her arms, looking down at them.
“Have some tea.”
“I’ve already had tea this morning.” Evanton didn’t care for tea himself.
“I see. What exactly brings you here today?”
“How much do you know about Shadows?”
“An odd question to ask.” He didn’t sound at all surprised to hear it.
“We’re investigating a murder case. Three young men were found in the basement of a house on the Winding Path.”
Evanton nodded, waiting. For an old man who sometimes defined the word impatient, he was pretty good at it.
“Across the street from the house where the bodies were discovered is another house. It seems like an entirely normal house...but one of its occupants is not exactly human.”
“And not, I’m assuming, Barrani, either.”
“Definitively not Barrani,” Teela said. She’d mostly abandoned the conversation to Kaylin, but clearly felt this needed to be said.
Evanton rose. “Are you claiming that he is Shadowed?”
“He claims to have come from Ravellon. The only Ravellon I currently know is at the heart of the fiefs—and the only things that escape it usually leave a trail of bodies in their wake. If we’re lucky, the bodies stay dead.”
Evanton’s expression flattened. “You have left this man in the home he now occupies?”
“I know it sounds crazy. But he had a child with him. A girl.”
“This girl also claims to have come from Ravellon?”
“No. From Nightshade. He brought her across the bridge.”
“And just happened to find a suitable house in which to raise her?” The word skeptical did not do justice to his tone or expression.
Put that way, it sounded bad. Kaylin poked the adornment draped across her shoulders; he lifted his head and yawned. Evanton frowned.
“You saw this so-called Shadow?”
The small dragon nodded.
“And you accepted his presence?”
And yawned.
“Kaylin, do not take all of your cues from your familiar. While he does seem to serve you, he is not mortal. He is not human. His concerns and his fears are not—and cannot be—yours.”
“I know that, but they spoke to each other. He’s pretty clear on what he thinks is dangerous, and he didn’t consider Gilbert a danger.”
“Gilbert.”
“I think Kattea probably named him.”
“Gilbert.” Evanton shook his head. “Were you alone?”
“Severn, Teela, Tain and Bellusdeo were with me at the time. Bellusdeo was willing to accept Gilbert’s existence, and if she does...” Kaylin offered Evanton a fief shrug.
“So you came to ask me about...Gilbert.”
“Well, no. I mean yes, but not just about Gilbert.” Kaylin sighed, resigning herself to the idea of Marcus’s inevitable snarling back at the office. “Let me tell you about my morning.”
* * *
Teela added the details that Kaylin glossed over in her attempt to get to the office in time to preserve her job—and her throat—while Evanton listened carefully. He asked no questions until she reached the end of her narrative.
Suprisingly, his first question was not directed to Kaylin.
“An’Teela, have you seen the ruins just south of the West March?”
Teela frowned. “No.”
“They are not easily accessible; simple scholars have managed to lose themselves in the surrounding forest without reaching their place of study. They are, however, accessible if the scholar is an Arcanist.”
“This is relevant?”
“It may be. It is not clear who dwelled in those ruins; they are architecturally inconsistent with the West March and its environs. The ruins existed before the Barrani and the Dragons started any of their ill-advised wars. As ruins do, they attracted the attention of the curious.”
Teela said nothing.
“Entry to these buildings was often complicated—even after the buildings themselves were deserted. Kaylin, I believe you have some experience of this.”
Kaylin bristled. “Helen is not a ruin.”
“No. But her appearance—both internal and external—is under her own control. She cannot be easily invoked or altered against her wishes. I am not claiming that the basement of a nondescript building within the city is in any way equivalent to Helen—but there were always wards and protections cast upon buildings, and death does not always render them inactive.
“From the sounds of your staircase, it is possible that the homes in that area were built upon the foundations of older works.”
“But who would know enough about that to sneak into a basement with a member of the family? And what would they stand to gain by killing the three men?”
“Investigation of this nature is what you’re paid to do.”
“Meaning,” Teela said, “you don’t know.”
Evanton raised a brow at her tone, but nodded. “I admit that the bodies—and their presence or absence—is new to me. But difficulties of this nature are, sadly, becoming more familiar.”
“What exactly is the nature of these difficulties?” Kaylin demanded.
Evanton, however, shook his head. “That, I cannot reveal to you at this time. However, I will, I fear, be spending more time in the Garden in the immediate future. My knowledge is inexact, but my function is not. I keep the world...real.”
Scary thought.
* * *
Kaylin thought she could hear Marcus growling from two blocks away. The Halls of Law loomed like a gallows as they marched briskly toward them. Teela was tight-lipped and blue-eyed by the time they reached the doors. Tanner and Clint framed them, but one look at Teela’s expression made them instantly wary. Fair enough. Barrani blue was not a terribly safe look.
Clint’s eyes, however, were already the wrong color for an Aerian: coal gray, which made them look hard. He lowered his weapon as they approached, but didn’t raise it to allow them passage, and given Teela’s mood, that was significant.
“What’s wrong?” Kaylin asked.
“I heard a rumor in the mess hall.”
“Was it about me?” Kaylin asked.
“Got it in one go.”
“I can hear Ironjaw growling from here, Clint. He’s been waiting for us to arrive.”
Clint had the grace to wince, but didn’t immediately grant them passage. “It’s about you and Moran.”
Kaylin blinked. “Pardon?”
Tanner held out a hand, palm up. Clint dropped a few coins into it, although he didn’t really look away from Kaylin. Tanner then said, “Caitlin said you’re going to offer Moran a place to stay while she recuperates.”
“Caitlin told you this?” Kaylin demanded, feeling a bit of a pang.
“Clint grilled her.”
That was also highly unlike the Clint Kaylin knew. “It’s not a rumor. It’s true. I haven’t convinced Moran yet.”
“Moran will say no.”
“She’ll say no the first few times I try, yes.”
“Don’t try a second time.”
Kaylin stared at Clint as if he’d been replaced by a Shadow. “She can’t fly.”
“No.”
“She won’t let me heal her—and I offered that first.”
“There are reasons for that. The Hawklord wouldn’t let you heal him, if he had any say. The Barrani don’t let you touch them. I don’t imagine the Dragon Lords would countenance it, either.”
Bellusdeo allowed it, but Kaylin kept that to herself. This entire conversation had gone in a direction Kaylin would never have anticipated. “Clint—she’s living in the infirmary.”
“She has been offered conveyance to, and from, the Aerie. She has chosen to decline the offer.”
“I know that. But the infirmary is more of a jail than a home.” Kaylin had folded her arms at some point and was now tightening them.
“To you, Moran is a sergeant. She rules the infirmary. To Moran’s family, she is not a Hawk. Her work here has never been treated with respect; it has, among the more considerate, been politely ignored. She was injured in her service to the Hawks.”
Kaylin, confused, looked at Teela to see if she was having any better luck following this discussion. From the shuttered expression on the Barrani Hawk’s face, she was. The small dragon, however, didn’t consider it important enough to budge and lay across Kaylin’s shoulder like a slightly resentful shawl.
“I’m aware of how she sustained the injuries, Clint.” She used his name like punctuation. “All I’m offering her is an actual home-away-from-home. She needs a place to stay. My place will actually have rooms that are designed for an Aerian, even an injured one. She won’t have to deal with landlords. She won’t have to deal with rent. She can walk to and from the Halls in relative safety. You’re acting as if this is some kind of political deal.”
“It is. You’ve always thought Moran’s wings were different.”
“Well, they are. All the rest of yours are single colors. Hers look like they’re speckled.”
Clint nodded. After a few seconds, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “How many other speckled wings have you seen?”
“I just told you—” Kaylin caught up. “You’re telling me they’re significant in the Aerie.”
“I’m trying to tell you that, yes.” To Teela, he said, “Did you have these issues when you introduced Kaylin to the High Halls?”
“Not these specific ones, no. The Barrani Halls are slightly simpler. Everyone you meet is going to try to kill you at one point or another; she only had to try to avoid the ones who were going to do so immediately.”
Tanner chuckled.
Kaylin didn’t. “The Hawks are politically neutral.”
“Yes, kitling, they are. But none of us exist solely as Hawks. We have duties and responsibilities—and enemies—outside of the Halls. We have history. Some of us have a longer and more complex history simply because we’re older. Moran, clearly, has significance outside of the Halls, and you are somehow stepping in it.”
“I will let Moran decide.”
“Kaylin—” Clint started.
She waited, glaring at him. He didn’t finish the sentence.
“What he’s not saying,” Tanner said, when it was clear that Clint was conceding, “is that you will cause the Hawklord extreme political grief. It’s possible the Hawklord will be waiting to speak to you when you arrive in the office.”
“Fine. At this point, it’s probably moot. Marcus is going to rip out my throat before I can try to convince Moran a room in my house is better than the infirmary.” She exhaled heavily and added, “I don’t want to cause the Hawklord any difficulty. I’d like to make corporal sometime in my life.”
That claim apparently fooled no one.
“Can you explain—later—what or who Moran is to the Aerie?”
“Not easily. There’s more than one Aerie in the Southern Reach. Most of the Hawks come from one of three specific Aeries. Moran does not.”
“Is this something I should have learned in racial integration classes?”
“No. Racial integration classes are meant to be practical, and the only Hawks who are summoned to the Aerie are, by default, the ones who can fly.” He grimaced. “We’re all fond of Moran.” This wasn’t entirely true; it was, however, true of Kaylin. “Go on in.”
* * *
Marcus could be heard long before he could be seen—even by the merely mortal. “I suppose if I quit my job now and ran home, Helen wouldn’t let me starve to death.”
“I wouldn’t bet on it—at least not with my own money,” Teela replied, indulging in her usual encouragement.
“Was your life like this before you joined the Hawks?” Kaylin asked, as they walked toward the growling against all base survival instinct.
“Not nearly as frequently. Before you ask, my life in the Hawks wasn’t this unusual, either. Not until you joined as a mascot. When you joined the actual payroll...”
“Thanks for the support, Teela.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Private, stop dawdling!” Marcus roared.
Kaylin muttered a short Aerian curse under her breath; given the volume of Marcus’s voice, his sharper hearing wasn’t likely to catch it. She hoped. She also sprinted to reach his desk, bypassing the duty roster on the way. He was bristling, and the raised fur added inches in volume on all sides of his head, his visible arms, his face. His lips were a thin, barely visible line over much more prominent teeth, and his eyes were a decidedly unpleasant shade of orange.
His desk would definitely need replacing.
Kaylin lifted her chin, exposing her throat. Teela, standing beside her, did not, but her eyes were a wary blue. “We stopped by Evanton’s on the way back to the office,” Kaylin explained—not that explanations were always welcome unless he demanded them, not when he was in this mood.
“Corporal, where is Bellusdeo?”
He’d asked Teela. When a lowly private was standing beside her.
“Bellusdeo returned to the Palace in the company of Corporals Handred and Korrin. She was unharmed; she was never in any recognizable danger.”
Marcus growled. At the moment, that was what passed for Leontine breathing. “I left orders with Gavin.”
“Evanton, however, let it be known that he had news that he felt would be of interest to Private Neya,” Teela said smoothly. This did not move Marcus; he knew the Barrani had no particular qualms about lying. “He’s the Keeper, Sergeant. When he feels something is of interest, it generally implies an unspoken ‘if you wish the city to survive.’”
Kaylin privately thought that the city was not in the most pressing danger at the moment, but said nothing. It was very seldom that Teela was willing to throw herself between Marcus’s foul mood and Kaylin, and she meant to appreciate it while it lasted. And it did, to Kaylin’s surprise, last. His fur began to settle.
“Verbal report. Now.”
“I’m not even sure where to start,” Teela began. Marcus was now watching them both with more heavily lidded—but still orange—eyes. “Did you review the mirror transmissions we sent from the Winding Path?”
The Sergeant growled.
“We’d like to see the reports sent to you by the Imperial mages.”
“Come back in a week. We might have something then.”
“Gavin implied—”
“How long have you been working for me?”
Technically, Teela was not working directly for Marcus. She didn’t correct him. “Long enough to know that you can light a fire under their beards and they’ll write more quickly.”
“I think Bellusdeo will take care of that,” Kaylin said. “She was heading straight for the Arkon, and Severn and Tain don’t seem to have made it back to the office yet.”
“Your report?”
Kaylin dutifully repeated what she was almost certain was already in Records by this point.
Marcus’s eyes had shaded to a regular bronze by the time she’d finished. “You don’t think the bodies should be moved.”
“No.”
“Corporal?”
“Nothing about the corpses—aside from their arrangement and the lack of obvious cause of death—seemed out of the ordinary to me. None of our investigators would have noticed anything out of the ordinary, had it not been for Private Neya’s companion. Given that the familiar itself is arguably more unusual, I would nonetheless advise against moving the bodies. Send Red in person.”
“You’re not finished there, are you?”
Teela glanced at Kaylin.
Kaylin, thinking of Gilbert, shook her head. “Not yet, no. Though I’m not certain we’re going to understand what happened, or why, no matter how much time we spend there.”
Growl. Squawk.
“Fine. I’ll give you a week. I’ll reassign the Elani beat for the duration.” He started to carve wood chips out of the surface of his desk, clearly already thinking about the next item on his list. His eyes became a deeper orange as he did.
“Have you talked to Moran yet?”
