“I write it all up in the reports.”
“The ones that Marcus shreds rather than reading?”
“Yeah. Those ones.”
“Fine. Write it up in a report.”
“Marcus’ll read this one.”
Bellusdeo impressed Kaylin with her command of the Leontine language—or at least the important bits. Also? Dragons could growl. Human throats didn’t do justice to Leontine, but Dragon throats clearly did.
“Are you all right?”
“Nothing is broken.” Bellusdeo winced.
“Ribs?” Moran asked.
“Possibly cracked. I’ve certainly suffered worse in my time.” She righted herself, stepping back from Kaylin and the familiar. Teela had already made it to what remained of the infirmary’s door—about a third of the door frame, at knee height or below. “I think it’s safe,” she told Moran. “There’s no longer obvious, active magic.” She was frowning.
So was Kaylin. “I didn’t sense anything.”
“No. It’s not as impressive as the Arcane bomb that destroyed your home,” Teela observed, “but it wouldn’t have to be. It wasn’t meant to kill a Dragon. It was, as far as I can tell, a very traditional explosion. You felt nothing at all?”
“Not until the explosion was already happening, no.”
Teela shook her head. “Corporal,” she said to Severn, “can you keep an eye on Kaylin while the rest of us stand in front of an outraged, angry Leontine for a few minutes?”
Severn nodded.
So did Kaylin. Teela meant for her to examine the room for magical sigils and signatures. The Imperial mages would no doubt be called in as the experts, but Marcus would want as much information as he could get his claws on, as quickly as possible. And Imperial mages were not terrified privates under his command.
* * *
“I don’t understand how I missed this,” Kaylin told her partner, as she picked her way through what remained of the room’s bedding. “I think it must have been hidden in the cupboard to the left.”
Severn nodded. The cupboard in question had ceased to exist. There was a large indent in the wall where the cupboard had once been affixed. There were a lot of splinters, and some impressive charring around the hanging bits of wood and glass that had been farther away.
The mirror—the large mirror—was shards.
Moran wasn’t going to be able to reclaim anything that had been in the infirmary at the time. Luckily, there had been no patients strapped to beds, because they wouldn’t have survived it, either.
“Anything?”
Kaylin nodded, frowning. “It’s a single sigil, a modest one—I don’t think I’ve seen it before.”
The familiar squawked loudly.
“It’s surprisingly small, is the thing. An explosion of this nature should have splashed magical signatures across most of the walls, or anything left standing.” Which was probably why Teela had left them behind. “This one didn’t.” She froze.
The familiar sighed loudly and lifted his left wing—he was perched on her right shoulder—to cover her eyes.
Kaylin’s Leontine was not as impressive as Bellusdeo’s, but she was certain she meant it more. “You know that don’t touch anything at a crime scene rule?”
“I haven’t touched anything at all.”
“I don’t think it’s necessarily completely safe for anyone to be in this room.”
Severn was unwinding his weapon chain.
