“Because Bellusdeo insisted.”
“Wait—Bellusdeo’s coming?”
“Shadow.”
Kaylin indulged in some very Leontine cursing herself. “But who’s staying with Moran?”
“Given her aerial maneuvers this morning? Probably every Aerian in the Halls. I think the Dragon bodyguard might be superfluous at this point.”
“It was Aerians who were responsible for the other assassination attempts,” Kaylin quite reasonably pointed out.
“That was then. This is now.”
* * *
Bellusdeo was orange-eyed, but had not ditched clothing for the very practical, but very martial, Dragon scales. The lack of scales didn’t make a difference to the very martial bit, sadly. She was almost breathing fire. “Tell me everything that happened.”
Kaylin did. Bellusdeo had come from a world in which Shadow, in the end, had swallowed all life; she had seen Shadow in its many forms, had seen it used, had almost fallen to it herself. She knew more about Shadow than anyone who wasn’t part of Ravellon.
This, however, confused her.
Teela lounged against one wall; Tain kept an eye on the door. “Did the prisoner have much to say?” Kaylin asked. And then, when no answer followed, “Is the prisoner still alive?”
“The prisoner is still alive,” Teela replied, brooding. She glared at Tain, who, in fairness, hadn’t even opened his mouth.
Mandoran entered the room. “Don’t give me that look,” he told Kaylin without bothering to see what her expression actually was. “If the Dragon can be here, so can I.”
“The Dragon has experience with Shadow and its incursions.”
“Honestly, it’s a small wonder to me that your sergeant hasn’t removed your throat by this point,” Bellusdeo muttered.
“He doesn’t hold me responsible for Dragons,” Kaylin replied. “He probably doesn’t hold me responsible for Mandoran, either—he’s Teela’s fault.” She did turn to Mandoran. “Why are you making that face?”
“Which face?”
“The something-is-wrong-here face.”
“Teela’s shouting in my ear.” And glaring at the side of his face. “Have you ever tried to concentrate on something when she’s shouting in your ear?”
“She doesn’t shout in my ear. Often.”
“So that’s a no.” He turned to the familiar. “Do you see this?”
The familiar squawked.
“Yeah. Me, too.”
But Bellusdeo turned to the familiar, as well. Kaylin wished he was perched on someone else’s shoulder. “Where?” she demanded. The familiar sighed and launched himself off Kaylin’s shoulder, where he fluttered pointedly above the circle of melted gold on the floor.
“That was the statue,” Kaylin offered.
Bellusdeo whispered a word and Kaylin’s skin developed instant goose bumps in protest. To Kaylin’s surprise, the Dragon turned to Mandoran. “Here?” she asked him, without any other identifying information that would make the question make sense.
Mandoran, however, frowned. “I think so. There’s a bit of haze about two feet above the floor. You said he breathed on the Shadow?”
“Yes,” Kaylin replied, although technically she hadn’t said it while Mandoran was in the room.
“And he breathed on the statue?”
