WITH FRIENDS LIKE THESE, WHO NEEDS ENEMIES?

Private Kaylin Neya thought her home couldn’t possibly get more crowded. But when one of her housemates, Annarion, decides to undertake the Barrani Test of Name, his friends refuse to let him face his task alone—and Kaylin’s sentient home, Helen, is the only structure capable of shielding the rest of Elantra from the magnitude of their power.

Annarion and Mandoran almost caused the destruction of the High Halls once already. Add nine of their closest friends, and the danger is astronomically higher—especially since these guests are at the heart of a political firestorm. Imprisoned almost a millennium ago, their recent freedom threatens the rulership of several prominent Barrani families, and the machinations of those Lords make it almost impossible to tell friend from foe.

As political tensions ramp up, the shadows beneath the High Halls are seeking a freedom that has never been possible before. Kaylin must find a way to keep those shadows from escaping, or that freedom will destroy her city, the empire and everything she holds dear.

The Chronicles of Elantra

by

New York Times bestselling author

Michelle Sagara

CAST IN SHADOW

CAST IN COURTLIGHT

CAST IN SECRET

CAST IN FURY

CAST IN SILENCE

CAST IN CHAOS

CAST IN RUIN

CAST IN PERIL

CAST IN SORROW

CAST IN FLAME

CAST IN HONOR

CAST IN FLIGHT

And

“Cast in Moonlight”

found in

HARVEST MOON,

an anthology with Mercedes Lackey and Cameron Haley

Cast in Deception

Michelle Sagara

Copyright

An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2018

Copyright © Michelle Sagara 2018

Michelle Sagara asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Ebook Edition © January 2018 ISBN: 9781474074681

Version: 2018-01-05

Praise for New York Times bestselling author MICHELLE SAGARA and The Chronicles of Elantra series

“No one provides an emotional payoff like Michelle Sagara. Combine that with a fast-paced police procedural, deadly magics, five very different races and a wickedly dry sense of humor—well, it doesn’t get any better than this.”

—Bestselling author Tanya Huff on The Chronicles of Elantra series

“Readers will embrace this compelling, strong-willed heroine with her often sarcastic voice.”

—Publishers Weekly on Cast in Courtlight

“The impressively detailed setting and the book’s spirited heroine are sure to charm romance readers, as well as fantasy fans who like some mystery with their magic.”

—Publishers Weekly on Cast in Secret

“Along with the exquisitely detailed world building, Sagara’s character development is mesmerizing. She expertly breathes life into a stubborn yet evolving heroine. A true master of her craft!”

—RT Book Reviews (4½ stars) on Cast in Fury

“Each visit to this amazing world, with its richness of place and character, is one to relish.”

—RT Book Reviews (4½ stars) on Cast in Silence

“Another satisfying addition to an already vivid and entertaining fantasy series.”

—Publishers Weekly on Cast in Chaos

“Sagara does an amazing job continuing to flesh out her large cast of characters, but keeps the unsinkable Kaylin at the center.”

—RT Book Reviews (4½ stars) on Cast in Peril

“Über-awesome Sagara picks up the intense action right where she left off... While Kaylin is the heart of this amazing series, the terrific characters keep the story moving. An autobuy for sure!”

—RT Book Reviews (4½ stars) on Cast in Sorrow

With thanks to

HexaDoken

Ijon

Jenova

Medicris

Mifu

Popsoap

Sgt. Shivers

Team NoD

TehVappy50

TerminusEst13

The Stronghold Team

Torr Samaho

WaTaKiD

Yholl

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Praise

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Epilogue

1

“You wake her up.”

Kaylin’s eyelids felt glued shut. She opened them anyway. Above her head, a tiny dragon appeared to be running in place.

“Why me? It’s not my decision that’s causing the difficulty!” That was definitely Mandoran.

She didn’t immediately reach for the dagger under her pillow. She did, however, push herself into something that resembled a sitting position. Her familiar leapt up on her shoulder, where he squawked at the hair that then fell into his face.

“You were the one who said we should warn her.” Annarion.

Kaylin knew that the two Barrani men could argue with their mouths shut. They knew each other’s True Names, and had their miniature version of telepathy. Grimly—morning was her best time of day only if you made a list and turned it upside down—she slid off her bed and toward a night robe, determined to remind them that they could argue silently.

“If the two of you could shut up for five minutes, I’ll wake her up.” That was Tain. Kaylin froze and changed clothing direction; there was no way she was going back to sleep.

“I think she’s awake now,” Helen, her sentient house, said, with just a hint of disapproval.

“Good.”

Say that in five minutes, Kaylin thought, shoving her arms into her shirt. The buttons were on the inside, which was not where they were supposed to be. “Helen, can I have some light?”

Light immediately flooded the room. The familiar squawked his resentment. Kaylin was saving hers for possible future need, but she was now worried. “Is Teela here?”

“Not yet, dear.”

Tain didn’t drop by for a random social visit. Not without Teela.

“What’s happened?”

“It’s not an emergency,” was Helen’s gentle reply. “Or at least not yet.”

* * *

“Don’t give me that look,” Tain said, before Kaylin could open her mouth.

“Why are you here?”

“Ask Mandoran.” Tain looked about as happy as Kaylin felt, which was unreasonable given that Barrani didn’t need sleep unless they were badly injured.

Kaylin, however, swiveled in Mandoran’s direction.

“Teela’s coming over,” he said.

“What happened?”

“Nothing yet.”

“Why is she coming over?”

The two younger Barrani exchanged a glance. To Kaylin’s surprise, it was Annarion who answered. “She’s coming to ask Helen if she can move in for a while.”

Kaylin turned to Tain.

“I haven’t spoken to her yet,” Teela’s partner replied. His eyes were blue.

“I believe,” Helen said, interrupting them before Kaylin could speak, “you can ask her yourself. She’s almost at the front door.”

“Don’t look at me like that,” Mandoran told Kaylin. “This has nothing to do with me. I voted against it.”

“Against what?”

When Mandoran failed to answer, she passed the frown on to Annarion, who looked both defiant and uncomfortable. “I’m taking the Test of Name.”

Tain’s eyes darkened to a midnight blue, and if Kaylin hadn’t been human, hers would have joined them. “You’re what?”

“I’m going to the High Halls to take the Test of Name.”

* * *

Kaylin was not stupid, in spite of what many of her early teachers had believed. She could put two plus two together and end up with four. “If Teela is coming over to ask if she can stay for a while,” Kaylin said out loud, “does that mean the rest of the cohort are coming to visit as well?”

“Not without your permission,” Annarion replied, guilt shifting the corners of his eyes and mouth.

“Look, some of us think it’s an incredibly stupid decision. But we know it’s dangerous, and none of the rest of us have taken the Test, either. If he goes, we’re not going to let him go on his own.”

“Teela’s taken the Test.”

Mandoran exhaled. “Yes. We know. That’s part of the problem. She can’t come with us.” He stared, quite deliberately, at his feet. Since this meant—to Kaylin—that he was trying not to look at anyone else, she frowned.

“She can’t go with you.”

“No. Not if she follows the customs and laws of the High Halls.”

Kaylin did look up then. “But Tain hasn’t taken the Test of Name.”

Silence.

Kaylin said, “Oh, no. No. I am not getting between the two of you while you’re arguing. You won’t kill each other, but the collateral damage will probably kill anyone who isn’t Barrani!”

“We are not arguing,” Tain replied. His voice was chilly, his eyes the same dark blue.

Annarion apparently also found his feet interesting.

Tain was not a Lord of the High Court. He was Teela’s partner, and Teela was. But the other Barrani Hawks were like Tain. A second class of citizen, a lesser class, in the eyes of most Barrani Lords. He’d never seemed to give a damn. But clearly, he did now.

She wondered who, among the cohort, had voted against Annarion taking the Test. Mandoran and Teela, certainly. But had any of the others?

“Yes,” she said, out loud. “The cohort can stay here as our guests. Given what happened with the two of you,” she added, looking at the Barrani who were still staring at their feet, “I want some of the city to remain standing.”

“They’ve been taking the same lessons we have,” Mandoran offered. “They learn what we learn.”

“Are they like you or like Annarion?”

“...We’re not sure yet.”

“Then they are definitely staying where Helen can keep an eye on them.”

* * *

By the time Teela arrived at the front door, Tain, Annarion and Kaylin were standing in front of it. Mandoran hung back, but not with any real hope of avoiding a face full of blue-eyed, angry Teela, which is what greeted them when Helen opened the front door.

Her eyes shifted into indigo when she saw Tain. Tain didn’t appear to notice, but he wasn’t one of the cohort, and he’d lived in the real world—near Teela—for much longer than anyone else had.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded, with no grace whatsoever.

Tain didn’t throw Mandoran to the wolves, which is clearly what Mandoran had been dreading. “I’ve heard that the cohort, as Kaylin calls them, is coming to stay.”

That wouldn’t have been Kaylin’s choice of opening words, but Kaylin was not Teela’s partner.

“Please come in,” Helen said, before Teela could respond. “Kaylin hasn’t eaten yet.”

No one had eaten yet. No one really felt like eating, either, as far as Kaylin could tell.

Teela and Tain quit what might have devolved into a staring contest as Helen ushered everyone into the dining room. They took their chairs as if chairs were weapons or armor. Teela even turned hers around so the back faced the table and she could fold her arms over it.

“Why,” she said again, “are you here?”

“I told you.”

“My friends are not your problem.”

“No.”

Teela’s eyes narrowed; she turned to glare at Mandoran, who shrugged. Her words, however, continued to be aimed at Tain. “I don’t want you to endanger yourself needlessly.”

“I’m not. I’ve always been far more cautious than you are.”

This was arguably true, but Kaylin was not nearly suicidal enough to make the argument. She looked at breakfast as it appeared on her plate, and wondered if it would be safer if breakfast for everyone else—or at least the Barrani—could be finger foods for just one day. Teela was giving the cutlery a side-eye that suggested she might use it for something other than food.

“You are not taking the Test with them.”

“I haven’t taken the Test. I can.”

“You’ve never wanted to be a Lord of the High Court. And babysitting—”

“Hey!”

“—is not nearly a good enough reason to change your mind.”

“No. It’s not.”

“Tain—”

“The cohort are coming to Elantra. Sedarias is coming to Elantra. The High Court has maintained the polite fiction of joy at the rescue of the cohort.”

Teela said nothing.

“How long do you think that joy is going to last? Annarion is the bloodline heir. Karian is the bloodline heir. Mandoran is—god help his family—the bloodline heir. And Sedarias is the bloodline heir.”

Kaylin turned to Tain. “Wait, what do you mean?”

“Annarion is not the only person present who intends to take back what Nightshade lost. Sedarias, however, would have been the Lord of her line had she not been sent to the green. The others are technically heirs because of politics or deaths due to the wars.” He exhaled and turned to her.

“Is this really the time for a teachable moment?” Kaylin demanded. Tain continued to stare at her, which was his answer. “Fine. Their family lines—what are they, anyway?—have been ruled just fine since they were sent to the green. The Lords of those lines probably have no interest at all in being displaced.”

“I have no interest in reclaiming my family holdings,” Mandoran said.

“You said your family was gone!”

Mandoran shrugged. “As far as I’m concerned, they are.”

“The High Court would not agree,” Teela said, her voice dry as tinder.

Mandoran made clear what he thought the High Court could do with its disagreement.

“You are correct,” Tain continued, speaking to Kaylin as if there had been no interruption. “Those families have held power for centuries. The children of the green were a myth—a sorrowful myth, perhaps—one that could be safely used. Now they are a very real fact.

“Teela is Lord of her line. She has had centuries to establish her rule. She is secure enough in that rule to be a Hawk—an Imperial Hawk. But the alliances she’s built to maintain that power are going to shift.”

“There is no guarantee of that,” Teela said.

Tain didn’t bother to reply, but his expression made clear just how little he thought of her counterargument. And he took his life in his hands by continuing to address his words to Kaylin. “Teela will, therefore, be drawn into the drama of the Test of Name. As long as none of the cohort are Lords of the High Court, everything remains academic. If they are not Lords of that court, they cannot claim their inheritance. It’s possible,” he said, his emphasis bordering on sarcasm, “that the High Court could be talked into believing that Mandoran, Eddorian, and Karian have no interest in ruling. There is nothing in the Empire that could induce the High Court to believe that Sedarias does not.”

Sedarias was the name Kaylin heard most often, when Mandoran referred to the members of his cohort who still resided in the Hallionne Alsanis. Her opinion was either valuable or dangerous—but it was never dismissed out of hand.

“And this is dangerous to Teela because?”

“Because some of her allies will be directly—and badly—impacted should the cohort decide to reclaim what is technically theirs. If Sedarias remained in the green, she could finesse the situation; Sedarias was not Lord of the High Court. If Sedarias is coming to Elantra—”

“She’ll become a Lord.” If she passed the Test. “And she’ll attempt to secure her place as head of her family.” The family that had abandoned her.

“Yes. Teela is currently the cohort’s only toehold in the High Court; she is a Lord, she is the head of her line, and she carries one of the three weapons that were proof against Dragons. She’s already felt some of that pressure, and the—”

“Tain.”

Tain shut up. Kaylin could almost hear his jaws snap.

He didn’t give up. He retrenched. This time, however, he spoke to Teela. “What you will need, if they set foot outside the Hallionne, are allies at Court. You did not require those allies in that fashion before. I have never had a desire to be a Lord of the Court. It wasn’t worth the risk, given my own origins. It is worth that risk to me now.” He folded his arms.

Kaylin caught Mandoran by the sleeve before he could vacate his chair and sneak out of the room. You brought him here, she mouthed. You can suffer with the rest of us.

* * *

Kaylin stared at the grim and silent Hawks. She was used to bickering and minor disagreements; she’d come to believe it came with the tabard. But this was different, and everyone in the breakfast room knew it. Someone had to interrupt them. One glance at Annarion and Mandoran told her there was no help coming from that quarter.

She was enough of a coward that help was unlikely to come from her, either.

But there was a Dragon in the house, and that Dragon appeared, as if by magic, in the dining room doorway. Kaylin was almost positive that the magic was called by Helen. Bellusdeo cleared her throat; Teela and Tain were probably aware of her presence, but were still glaring at each other across a suffocatingly quiet table. Since Bellusdeo was a Dragon, clearing her throat made a lot of noise.

It was Teela who turned toward her first, but Tain was quick to follow.

“Good morning,” Teela said, her eyes a martial blue that was only fractionally less dire than it had been when she was glaring at Tain. Although historically the Barrani and the Dragons had been enemies, Teela actually liked Bellusdeo.

The Dragon returned that affection. For Teela. She seemed to approve of Annarion, but Mandoran frequently caused her to exhale smoke. “Annarion and Lord Nightshade have only just stopped screaming at each other at the top of their Barrani lungs. I’d just as soon have a little bit of peace and quiet before things blow up again.”

“Lord Nightshade has merely accepted that he cannot change Annarion’s mind at this point. Do not think he has surrendered.” Teela seldom hesitated, but did now. When she started to speak again, she spoke to Helen.

“Mandoran has informed you—”

“That your friends are coming to visit? Yes, dear.” Helen could get away with calling Teela dear. Anyone else would have been picking up teeth. “And Kaylin has already offered you our hospitality at any time you wish to stay. I should, however, ask whether you would like to room with Tain.”

Kaylin cringed.

Teela said no at the same time as Tain said yes.

Bellusdeo’s grimace was exaggerated, but her eyes were gold.

“I would just as soon not involve him.”

“I’m involved.” Tain’s voice was curt. He was angry.

Helen rushed in to prevent silence from once again shrouding the table. “I will, of course, have rooms for you. You are allowed across my threshold without Kaylin’s express, explicit permission. She considers you—”

“Family. Yes. I know.”

“In the mortal sense, not the immortal one.” Kaylin knew mortal families that would have fit right in with the Barrani families of Teela’s acquaintance, but failed to point this out.

“In the Kaylin sense,” Teela said.

“That is the only one with which I am concerned,” Helen replied. “You are welcome here.”

Bellusdeo took a seat at the table on the other side of Mandoran. The smile she gave him was almost feline. “How many other guests will I be sharing a roof with?”

Teela’s answering grin was humorless. “Ten new guests, unless I can convince Annarion to change his bloody mind.”

“You are not going to convince me to change my mind,” Annarion said, finally joining a conversation that both he and Mandoran had managed to steer clear of.

Teela turned to stare at him, and to Kaylin’s surprise, it was Annarion who looked away. Teela had clearly chosen to reply to the statement in the privacy of their name bond.

It was, strangely enough, Mandoran who broke the silence. “Annarion was the youngest,” he said, looking at the table. “Nightshade was the eldest. Not the firstborn, but the eldest survivor of the war. He went to the Tower, and he returned.” He flinched. “I’m telling her. It’s not like she can’t find out.”

“Find out what?”

“Annarion had a sister. She was the middle surviving child. When it came her time, she went to the Tower to take the Test of Name.” He inhaled. Paused. Kaylin thought he was done.

He was. Teela, however, took up the slack his silence left. “She was the daughter of an ambitious family. Those who fail the Test, with one possible exception, have never returned. Annarion assumed—as we all did at the time—that she had died. He grieved privately; it is not the way of my people to otherwise discuss the failure of their own kin. I therefore know very little about her. If the rest of my cohort has become something other, something larger, than Barrani, they are nonetheless Barrani in thought. Had she died, nothing would change.”

This time, Annarion bowed his head. And Kaylin understood, in that moment, that Annarion knew. He knew the fate of those who failed that test.

Teela, seeing her expression, said, “Yes. Now he knows. Those who fail do not simply die; they remain where they fell. They will remain there until the creature at the base of the High Halls is destroyed.”

Her words almost a whisper, Kaylin said, “He intends to free the trapped.”

“The damned, yes. He intends to destroy the Shadow at the base of the Tower. He intends to free the dead. To be fair, he intends to free his sister.”

“...So, the reason—the real reason—he was so angry at Nightshade...” Kaylin lapsed into uncomfortable silence.

“No. You are not Barrani. The reason he is angry with his brother has been stated truthfully, and often. His brother chose to reject duty and honor by abandoning his bloodline.”

“He was made outcaste, Teela. He didn’t choose it.”

Teela just shook her head and made that you’ll understand when you’re older face that Kaylin hated. “Annarion does like you, and I understand why.” She held up a hand. “I never had any qualms about leaving him in your hands. Or rather, I never worried about what you might do to, or with, him. All of my worry went in the other direction. Annarion is not a fool. Or rather, he understands why the Test exists. He understands that were the Shadow beneath the High Halls to escape, it would be a disaster that would make the previous attack on the High Halls pale to insignificance.”

“But?”

“But, yes. My cohort was sent to the green. It was sent to be transformed. The experiment was not successful in the eyes of the High Court of the time—but it is being argued now that it was a success.”

“By your cohort?”

“Yes. No one likes to feel that they are a failure,” Teela added, with a rueful smile. “Shadow does not hold the same terror for Annarion or Mandoran that it does for you or the rest of my kin.”

“They think they can destroy that Shadow.”

“They think they have a chance.”

“And if they don’t succeed? If, somehow, that Shadow can subvert them?” She turned to Annarion who was still studying his plate as if it fascinated him. “If the Shadow takes your name, you can do things—you can all do things—that no other Barrani can. The Shadow’s released at least one person we know of into the High Court.” She did not mention who, and no one asked. “But if it has you and your cohort as its agents...”

Teela nodded, grim now. “Exactly.”

* * *

Kaylin was technically a Lord of the High Court because she’d inadvertently taken the Test of Name—a test that she couldn’t really fail, except by dying, as she hadn’t had a name at the time. She’d seen what lay at the base of the Tower. It was a Shadow, and in its folds, it held the names of those who had failed. It held the substance of who they had been in life. Kaylin didn’t exactly believe in ghosts, but didn’t have a better word to describe it.

It had shaken her.

It had enraged her.

It had, as so many, many things did, brought her face-to-face with her own insignificance, and her helplessness. There was nothing she could do to disperse that particular Shadow, and nothing she could do to free the trapped.

The creature at the base of the High Halls was the reason the High Halls had been erected in the middle of what was otherwise a Dragon-ruled empire. But death wasn’t the worst of it, for the Barrani. He could also control those he chose to allow to leave the Tower, because he had their names. He knew them.

For years, for centuries, probably for millennia, the Barrani had been feeding their children—or themselves—to that Shadow. And Kaylin even understood why. What the Shadow could not take, what the Shadow could not mislead or distract, it could not alter. Those Barrani had a base immunity to the effects of Shadow.

That base immunity was necessary. She knew what would happen to the city, her city, if the creature was no longer imprisoned. The Dragons might be safe. No one else.

After a long pause, in which Kaylin’s drink practically congealed in her hands, she said, “So...they’re all coming here.”

“Yes. Sedarias now feels that some exploratory testing is required.” Teela’s eyes were marginally less blue; Bellusdeo’s presence had shifted some of the tension out of the lines of her face.

More silence.

“We are aware of the danger—to others—if one of the cohort is subverted or controlled. Annarion was calling out to the Shadows without ever being aware that he was doing so. If he could be made to do so deliberately, the Shadow beneath the High Halls wouldn’t need to be unleashed.

“If this happens, the rest of the cohort could exert influence and possibly counter the control with controls of our own.”

“But to do that some of the cohort would have to remain at a distance.”

Teela nodded. She lifted a long-fingered, pale hand to her brow and massaged her right temple. “At the moment, the argument has devolved into who those people will be, and how much distance is distant enough. For obvious reasons, my friends will stay here if you permit it.”

Now, the disadvantage of having a Dragon join the conversation was made clear. Kaylin fidgeted but chose to speak. “While Bellusdeo is living here, the Emperor keeps a close watch on Helen. There’s no way he’s not going to know if a cohort of Western Barrani descend on my house.”

“That is the other concern.”

“She could just move out for the duration,” Mandoran suggested. “I’m seriously considering it.” He winced. “I can safely live elsewhere. And if Tain’s going to be staying here, I could stay in his old place.”

“Dear,” Helen began.

“Don’t ‘dear’ me. My entire life in the past week and a half has been nothing but argument, screaming argument, icy silence, and general condescension.”

“I laughed at your bad joke yesterday,” Kaylin pointed out.

“Fair enough. I’d shelve that under general condescension myself, but I’m not mortal and don’t always understand how you think. I’m not that fond of the Dragon,” he continued. “But I’d just as soon not fight an angry Emperor for no reason whatsoever.” For Mandoran, this was progress. It implied that there were actual reasons not to fight Dragons. When he’d first arrived that would have been unthinkable.

Bellusdeo exhaled a stream of smoke. Her eyes were now orange, but Kaylin suspected that was due to the mention of the Emperor, and not Mandoran’s commentary. “I am not moving out.”

“I’ve had some time to get used to you,” Mandoran continued, dropping the third person ‘Dragon.’ “You’ve had some time to get used to me. Annarion—well, he’s Annarion. He practically considers you a friend. Not everyone is going to see you the same way.”

Kaylin now understood why Teela was massaging her temple. “You haven’t been defending Bellusdeo to your cohort, have you?”

“Don’t make me lose whatever appetite I have. Of course not.” Food appeared in front of Mandoran. He touched none of it. Kaylin, however, started eating, purely by instinct.

“He doesn’t consider it defending her,” Teela added. She gave the food in front of her the side-eye. There were many things Teela’s childhood had lacked, but food wasn’t one of them. She could ignore it. “The truth, however, is that we like Bellusdeo.”

“Speak for yourself.”

“Fine. I like Bellusdeo and Mandoran tolerates her. I understand what the wars cost her. She in turn understands what the wars cost me. Neither of us chose the wars. Neither of us were consulted by those who did.” Teela shrugged. “You saw what Mandoran was like when he first arrived.”

“You think the others will be like him?”

“No. Most of them have better manners. But the substance will be similar. They understand what we see in her. They also understand that the feeling is personal, emotional. They are likely to form their own opinions, but the forming might be, ah, fractious.”

Helen did not appear to be concerned. Since it would be Helen who would keep the consequences of ‘fractious’ to a minimum, Kaylin didn’t share Teela’s anxiety. Well, she did, but not about that.

“None of your cohort went to the Tower in the High Halls.”

“No.”

“None,” Mandoran added, “except Teela. But she did it later. And before you think she’s being selfless or anything, she’s not. Not entirely. She had problems readjusting to life in the Court, and she spent a lot of what remained of her so-called childhood under observation. She was tested constantly; the High Court knew what had happened to the others, and they were waiting to see that power manifest in Teela.

“She wasn’t exactly a pariah, but she was only accepted because her father was a very powerful man. Only those who were certain to survive crossing him made demands of her. You’ve always said the Barrani are arrogant.”

“When they’re breathing, yes.”

“Well, there were a lot of people who felt certain they’d survive. Time moves slowly for Immortals. But it does move. Teela hasn’t been considered an abomination or a subhuman liability for centuries.”

“...And if the cohort arrives in force...”

“She’s too stubborn to abandon us, and we’re too stubborn to push her out.”

Since they knew each other’s True Names, Kaylin doubted that was even possible, but said nothing.

“You are not being fair,” Helen told him. She often spoke to Mandoran as if he were not quite out of childhood. “That is a natural part of her concern, of course, but you are not presenting it well.” To Kaylin, in the face of Teela’s silence, she said, “Teela is considering the political costs because she intends to preserve her cohort.”

“I think we’re capable of preserving ourselves.”

“Yes. So, too, is Lord Nightshade. Teela, however, does not desire that you all be made outcaste. As outcastes, you would naturally be denied the Tower—and the High Halls. As outcastes, no Barrani would be required to lift a finger should outsiders, such as the Dragon Court, be called upon to end your existence. If, over the next few centuries, you prove yourselves to be considerable powers, you will be, as Nightshade is, grudgingly accepted. But the cost of waging that war could be profound.

“And of course, if you are made outcaste, there’s a possibility that Teela will join you. It is not a guarantee. If she was willing to publicly disavow you, she would, given her history in the Court, be excluded from your fate.”

Kaylin had a few thoughts then. Some of them could even be said in public—as long as public involved the Hawks, which was where she had learned most of the ruder words. “Someone has already made the motion.”

Mandoran’s smile, as he lifted his head, was bitter. “How did you guess?”

“Relatives of Annarion’s?”

“And the already outcaste Nightshade, yes.”

“When?”

Mandoran shrugged. “Does it matter?” He made a face at Teela. “She was going to find out anyway.” Teela clearly made her reply in the silence of their name bond; Mandoran couldn’t be bothered. “She’s a Lord of the High Court, Teela. She has access to the Consort. She’s seen the Lake of Life. She’s considered the Consort’s emergency replacement. If she wanted to, she could find this out by taking a walk in the Consort’s garden!”

Teela relented. “Yes, if she wanted. How much of Kaylin’s desire strikes you as political? It wouldn’t occur to her to ask. She’s accepted at Court because she is so firmly outside of the power structure she does nothing to shake it. Start down this road, and she won’t even last the few measly decades allotted her.

“The rest of us have forever. We can wait. Kaylin has forty or fifty years.” Teela stood, her eyes a shade that wasn’t quite blue but was definitely as far from green as it could get. “I’m not asking for any of you to put your lives on hold indefinitely. I’m asking that you wait. A handful of decades isn’t going to change your lives.”

Mandoran glared at Teela. Clearly he’d heard it all before.

“You understand,” Kaylin began, but Teela lifted a hand.

“I understand everything in exhaustive detail. I have had enough notice to form a skeletal defense against the worst of the politics.”

“Sedarias thinks you’d be more successful getting information than Teela has been,” Mandoran told Kaylin. “Because of your position as emergency mother to the Barrani.”

There was a flash of blinding light that made the dining room vanish because Kaylin hadn’t had time to close her eyes.

“Corporal,” Helen said, in a more steely voice.

Teela immediately said, “My apologies, Helen. The spell was not materially harmful.”

“No, I understand that. I know Barrani don’t require sleep, but in my long experience, they require some moments of privacy and peace. Come. I have rooms waiting for you.”

Teela’s shoulder’s sagged. “Affection,” she told Kaylin’s house, “is a curse and a terrible, terrible weakness.”

“So thought the people who built me,” Helen replied serenely. “I do not believe they were correct.”

“No?”

“There are reasons I am less than fully functional. I chose to destroy some parts of myself to preserve the parts I value. It was painful, and there are lingering regrets on the bad days. On the good days, I am grateful that I was sentient enough to be able to make that choice. Come,” she said again.

Teela quietly followed the Avatar of Kaylin’s house.

“And eat, Kaylin,” Helen’s disembodied voice added.

2

Teela, who had come prepared for work, left immediately. Tain, also properly attired, went with her. Kaylin, who had stumbled from sleep into several arguments, wasn’t ready. She headed to her room to start a day that already felt too damn long.

Something political was happening in the High Court, and some of—if not all of—the cohort felt that Kaylin had actual political power there. Of course, one of them was Mandoran, a man not known for his wisdom or caution. She dressed quickly and competently, no longer being half-asleep, and headed out the door, Bellusdeo in tow.

“You’re thinking,” the gold Dragon, in her distinctly human form, said. “I approve.”

“Probably because you can’t actually hear most of it. Don’t eat that,” she added, to the familiar who was gnawing at the stick in her hair. She was lucky that most of the stick was invisible, because it looked distinctly like a puppy chew toy when examined.

The orange in the Dragon’s eyes faded to a more prominent gold. “It’s not Teela you need to worry about. Or,” she added, “me. Although I admit I don’t find it as offensive most of the time. I have some respect for Annarion. I daydream about breathing fire on Mandoran. And I actually like Teela. I’m not concerned about the cohort and its arrival. Helen will keep me safe. Helen,” she added, her lips twitching up at the corners, “will keep them safe if they happen to anger me.”

“I’d bet on you, if that happened.”

“With your own money?”

“You’re getting the hang of this.”

“And you’re not answering the question.” But Bellusdeo’s eyes were a warm gold. “You remind me of one of my sisters.”

“Given what the Arkon has said about them, I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”

“We were children, then. And children are often both beloved and difficult. But it’s not me you should worry about.”

“It’s the Emperor.”

“It is,” Bellusdeo agreed, “the Emperor. At the moment, he and his Court are heavily preoccupied. He trusts your intent, but also credits your uncanny ability to find disaster. I believe he used the equivalent draconic word for ‘epic.’ He will not, of course, demand that you turn over your guests—or that you turn them away. He is cognizant of his own laws, and will not create new ones simply for his own immediate convenience.” She hesitated.

Kaylin understood why. With no intent whatsoever, Annarion had caught the attention of Shadows in the fiefs—and they had crossed the Ablayne to find him. In and of itself that wouldn’t have been a problem; Shadows were the reason the Towers in the fiefs existed. But he had also been somehow loud enough to wake things ancient and slumbering, and they had not been subject to the Tower’s will.

When she finally spoke, her words surprised Kaylin. “I am concerned about the cohort’s arrival.”

“We’re all concerned—”

“As in, I am uncertain that they will survive their travel here.”

Kaylin’s mouth opened, but no words came out. Of all of the possible future disasters she had expected or considered, this wasn’t one.

“I believe it is one of the handful of things Teela fears. Mandoran and Annarion do not, but they are young. Stay out of it. I mean it. I might survive entanglement in Barrani politics—I have before—but you’re not a Dragon. I’m sure it’s the biggest reason that Teela doesn’t want the cohort here. You stick your nose into everything, and these matters are not remotely safe for any of us.”

“I live here.”

“It might have escaped your notice, but so do I, and I fully intend to avoid the cohort as much as possible. And if you keep arguing, you’re going to be late.”

* * *

Clint and Tanner were on the door, which wasn’t strange. Tanner looked alert and Clint looked worried, which was. Neither appeared to be interested in the how-late-will-Kaylin-be betting pool, which was not a good sign. Kaylin slowed as she approached the stairs. “There’s bad news,” she told Bellusdeo.

The Dragon didn’t argue. “Do you think it’s personal bad news, or is there some difficulty in the Halls?”

“Not sure. I don’t think it’s me. I haven’t been late in days, I’m not working on a sensitive case and I also haven’t pissed Margot off, so Marcus isn’t wading through the mountains of paperwork she constantly requires.”

“You could just climb the stairs and enter the Halls. It’s probably faster than speculating, and likely to give you more accurate information.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Kaylin drew breath, heading resolutely toward the doors Clint and Tanner were guarding.

“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 direction.

Kaylin then went to stand at attention in front of the sergeant’s desk. Hardwoods, she decided, were good. They didn’t scratch as easily, and it was clear from the surface of the desk that Marcus had been working at making a few gouges.

“You are to meet your partner and head—immediately—to the East Warren.”

Kaylin, who had expected the word “Elani” to crawl out from between the folds of a growl, blinked. The East Warrens, as the area was colloquially called, was a Hawk beat; its boundary ended at the Ablayne, and the enterprising fool who chose to cross it ended up in one of the fiefs. Kaylin’s geography was sketchy at best; she mostly knew what she’d walked across. She hadn’t walked into that fief.

Bellusdeo, however, had a strong interest in the fiefs—or, more accurately, the Towers that stood at their centers. “The East Warrens?” Her eyes had lost their gold, but at least that made sense; Marcus’s eyes were red. His facial fur, however, hadn’t jumped up two inches; it had settled. He looked sleek, his upper fangs more exposed than they usually were, his claws extended.

He wanted to tell Bellusdeo to get lost, except with ruder words. And he wanted to tell Kaylin to go home. She felt some sympathy for this, because she wanted to tell Bellusdeo to go home. The East Warrens were not Elani street in any way; they were vastly more dangerous. It was not a beat given the groundhawks of the mortal variety. The Aerians could fly patrol over the streets, but at a safe enough height crossbows wouldn’t be an issue.

No, it was a Barrani beat.

Marcus, for whom low growling had replaced all sound of breath, waited, daring Kaylin to argue. She wasn’t stupid. In his current mood, she’d agree that black was the new pink if that’s what he demanded, and consider herself lucky. Enraged Leontine seemed far more dangerous than a strolling walk through some of the city’s poorer streets. A Dragon would certainly make that patrol safer.

Until the Emperor heard about it.

“May I ask,” Bellusdeo began.

“No.”

“—if this has something to do with the fief of Candallar?”

Marcus said nothing. He growled, but didn’t bother with words. Unfortunately, he was facing a Dragon—a Dragon who hadn’t been forced to swear an oath of allegiance to the Emperor, whose laws the Hawks served. And any attempt to rip out her throat or tear off her arm—or leg—was going to be unsuccessful, in the best case. In the worst case—and given Marcus’s mood, worst was a distinct possibility—the office would be reduced to charred wreckage. Charred, broken wreckage.

And that was above her pay grade.

Bellusdeo, however, folded her arms and looked down at the sergeant, her eyes narrowed. They stared at each other for three long, half-held breaths. It was, to Kaylin’s surprise, Marcus who looked away first—but by the time he did, his eyes had shaded to a much safer orange.

“Yes.”

“And does the fief of Candallar have something to do with the current mood of the office?”

“I don’t discuss rostering issues with anyone who doesn’t outrank me.”

Bellusdeo’s smile was gem-like: hard enough to cut, but bright anyway. Kaylin wanted to leave to find out what had happened, but knew better. She waited. Marcus finally dismissed her, although he didn’t bother to look in her direction. Bellusdeo, however, did not follow.

* * *

“What happened?” Kaylin asked, keeping her voice as low as she could. Marcus’s hearing was good, but he was unlikely to hear her when she was in Hanson’s office. Hanson was the choke-point for the Hawklord’s time; he was like, and unlike, Caitlin. This morning, the dissimilarities were stronger.

“It is not a going to be a good day,” he told Kaylin. “The Hawklord hasn’t demanded your attendance—which is about as much luck as you’re likely to have in the near future. If I were you, I’d remember that you’re a private. Whatever is happening, it is not your problem.”

“Did I mention that Teela and Tain are coming to live with me?”

“Fine. It is your problem. Your problems, however, are not my problem.”

“East Warrens is a Barrani beat.”

“You don’t say.”

“Bellusdeo is coming with me, wherever I happen to be assigned.”

Hanson grimaced; she could practically hear the lines around his mouth crack. “Emperor’s problem,” he finally said. But he knew that if something happened to Bellusdeo, it would be everyone’s problem. And in this case “everyone’s” problem was a matter for the Hawklord. Which, of course, would become Hanson’s problem. “There was an altercation this morning between two of the Barrani Hawks.”

“Go on.”

“In general, Corporal Danelle handles difficulties between the Barrani Hawks. She is not the only corporal among their number, but her word carries weight with the Barrani for entirely extralegal reasons. The altercation occurred before her arrival; it was considered severe enough that she booked the West Room in which to resolve the difficulties.”

Kaylin nodded. In and of itself, this was business as usual, although Barrani altercations were on the wrong side of “intense.”

“The altercation was between Corporals Tagraine and Canatel.”

She frowned. They were partners. While altercations between Barrani could be intense, in general they had greater respect for—or at least care for—their beat partners. “What set them off?”

“The office was largely empty when the altercation occurred. Barrani don’t need sleep; they usually arrive early. Today, they arrived early. Teela did not.” He raised a brow, as if expecting that Teela’s tardiness—for a Barrani—was somehow Kaylin’s fault. “She entered the office as the altercation was in progress, broke it up and booked the West Room.”

Kaylin had heard nothing that would justify removal of Barrani Hawks from the duty roster. “She couldn’t stop the altercation.” It wasn’t a question.

Hanson bowed his head for a long minute. When he raised it again, he looked exhausted. “It appears that the altercation between Tagraine and Canatel was a fabrication. The purpose of the altercation was to separate the rest of the office from the Barrani.”

She froze then. The only good reason to do that was the laws of exemption: if only Barrani were involved, the Imperial Laws took a back seat to the caste court laws. A Barrani confrontation in the normal office could not be guaranteed not to cause extraracial collateral damage—and that would void the laws of exemption entirely. The implications of that...were not good.

She thought of the morning’s events, the morning’s arguments, the fact that the cohort were coming to stay with Helen, and Tain’s comment—cut off angrily by Teela—that Teela had already been under “pressure.” The Barrani definition of pressure.

“Something happened to Teela.”

“Something,” Hanson said, exhaling, “almost happened to Teela. She survived. One of the two would-be assassins did not.”

“Tagraine and Canatel?”

Hanson nodded.

“The survivor is in the infirmary that we’re not allowed to visit by order of Moran, unless we want to join him.”

He nodded again. “The High Court has been on the mirror network, demanding an explanation. The East Warrens may, or may not, have been involved with the altercation in some subtle way. Therefore the Barrani are off that beat.” He exhaled. “They are off their beats until some of the issues are resolved.”

“Meaning investigations are ongoing.” It was a catch phrase used in place of hells if I know.

“Meaning exactly that.”

“How, exactly, did the High Court even know?”

“Apparently they were informed.”

“By who?”

“Oddly enough, no one in the office even thought of asking that question. I’m sure if someone had, we’d have that information in our hands by now and everything would be resolved.” The sarcasm in Hanson’s voice should have been lethal; it was embarrassing instead.

“The Emperor’s going to reduce me to ash if anything happens in the warrens.”

“Figure out a way to survive a lot of fire then,” Hanson replied. It was the warrens; if was not precisely the right word. It was simply the hopeful one.

* * *

“The warrens are okay,” Kaylin told Bellusdeo on the way to said warrens. Severn said nothing. “They’re nowhere near as bad as the fiefs. They’re more crowded than the rest of the city, and more run-down. But: no Ferals.”

“I have no fear of Ferals,” Bellusdeo replied. “And before you warn me of all the other dangers, please remember I’m a Dragon. A prickly Dragon.”

“If it helps, this is considered a Barrani beat.”

“Because no one is stupid enough to think a few underfed thugs present a danger to the Barrani, of course.” Her chilly tone was a warning. She considered Dragons to be stronger than Barrani, and any implication to the contrary was not going to be well received. “Do yourself a rather large favor and worry about your own survival.”

She wasn’t worried about Bellusdeo; she was worried about the Emperor. She couldn’t point this out if she didn’t want to add to the hostility between the two Dragons. Since the Emperor had come to dinner at Kaylin’s house, there’d been something close to peace between them—but it was a peace between previously warring nations. It was fragile.

“Besides, I think your assignment in the warrens was a deliberate choice.”

“Oh?”

“I go where you go, with Imperial permission.”

“You think they’re expecting real trouble? No wonder Marcus was in a mood.”

“Oh, I think your sergeant’s mood had a lot to do with the Barrani unrest. He’s a sergeant. He expects everyone under him to operate under the same rules.” Bellusdeo smiled fondly. “It’s almost nostalgic.”

“You had to deal with sergeants?”

“Or their equivalents, yes. But never from beneath them.” She shook herself. “He is fond of you, of course, which is why you come in for more of his public displeasure than the average new recruit. He can’t afford to show favoritism. It bleeds solidarity from the ranks. If he’s fond of you—and he is, no one could miss that—and he treats you the way he does, it means no one is safe.” She wrinkled her nose. “I take it this is also where the tanneries are.”

* * *

Kaylin did not detest the warren. She didn’t feel the need to make excuses for the people who lived here; life had already done that. But she knew theft from the inside out. Knew that she’d been good enough not to get caught often. She needed to eat, same as anyone, and if there was no way to do that legitimately, she’d made other choices. She wasn’t proud of them, but she wasn’t humiliated by them, either.

She understood that once you started, crime became another tool, another way to survive. That you could want a better life, dream of it, of being a better person, and it didn’t matter. Dreams didn’t fill a stomach. But the warrens were on this side of the Ablayne. They were subject to the Emperor’s Law. The worst excess of human behaviors was curbed here. It wasn’t like the fiefs.

She knew that the tabard she wore put a wall between her and the warren’s residents. But at least it was the East Warrens, not the south.

“Power,” Bellusdeo said, “is always interesting. It is not an absolute, with few exceptions.”

“Exceptions?”

“The Eternal Emperor would be one of them. But he is considered out of reach. His position is not visibly contested in any way. People gather. It’s what people do.”

“Dragons don’t.”

“No. But Dragons have hoards, and hoards can make a Dragon dangerously unstable if they are not prepared for it. We do not make friends the way mortals do.”

“Or the way Barrani do?”

“Or the way Barrani do, no. We have not found there is strength in numbers, except perhaps in the case of war. And even then, it is questionable. I ruled. In any gathering of mortals, at any station of life, there is always a question of power. Or perhaps hierarchy. Even in the fiefs, where one could arguably say there is little true power, people struggle for position. People kill for it, one way or the other.”

“That doesn’t make humanity sound all that appealing.”

The Dragon smiled. “If that was all that humanity contained, perhaps it would be unappealing. The power games of most mortals makes no material difference to my life. But no, power itself is inert. People want it for different reasons. In the warrens—as in your fiefs—they want power because it is tied to survival. But so, too, family, kin, clan. To belong to a group is to gain a negotiable safety from it. It is why gangs clash. It is why reprisals exist.

“I would imagine the warrens are no different from the fiefs. Tell me, have you lost many Hawks to the warrens?”

Kaylin glanced at Severn. It was Severn who answered. “Yes. Not, however, since Barrani joined the force. Aerian patrols were also successful in preserving lives, but they were not considered as effective at deterring crime.”

“And the Barrani themselves are trusted not to add to the crime?”

“They have been,” Severn replied. “Teela, however, has been crucial to their performance.”

“And someone tried to kill her this morning.”

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