“Does it matter? It wasn’t an order.”
“You’re braver than you look.”
“Or more stupid,” Clint added. He glanced at Moran, and the weapon rose. His expression changed. So did Moran’s; hers instantly soured.
“If you call mepraevoloin the Halls, I will break your arms.”
Tanner snickered. “He’s not technically in the Halls at the moment, Sergeant.”
Moran had chosen to fly to work. Bellusdeo was therefore sporting Dragon-scale armor. Teela and Tain had pulled up the rear on the ground, and the guards weren’t generally stupid enough to block the Barrani without heavy-duty orders from above. The Barrani idea of a passing resentment lasted longer than entire mortal lives, and they really resented obvious disrespect. They’d learned to live with most of it, but it wore on their nerves.
Teela—the only Barrani Hawk who was also a Lord of the High Court—was actually better about it than the rest. Tain only took exception to disrespect offered his partner, all other disrespect being beneath notice or contempt.
Clint let them in. Kaylin let them pass her. Only when she was certain Moran was beyond the range of hearing her—the Barrani would still catch it all, as would the Dragon—did she speak. “I need to talk to you.”
Clint met her gaze, his eyes a momentarily weary blue. “You just can’t keep your nose out of things, can you?”
“Not these things.”
“If it helps at all,” Tanner said, “it’s one of her most endearing traits.” As if Clint needed the reminder.
“Not finding it endearing at the moment.”
“Well, no. It’s also frequently highly inconvenient.”
“I’m still here, guys.”
“Of course you are,” Clint replied. “It’s been that kind of a day.”
* * *
Clint found a replacement; there were relief guards who gave them breaks for meals, among other things. He headed toward the mess hall, but Kaylin shook her head. “West room?”
“Fine.” He was in a bad mood, and made Kaylin touch the door ward. The room was only infrequently in use, and today it was empty. Kaylin entered, waiting until Clint had done the same, and then closed the door.
“Did you know there’s an Aerian Arcanist?”
“Yes. I was aware of it.”
“We think—we’re not certain—that an Arcanist is probably responsible for the earlier assassination attempts.”
“And water is wet.”
“Work with me a bit here.”
“I’ve already explained why that’s a very bad idea for any Aerian.”
Kaylin nodded. “I wouldn’t have asked you—but in the past couple of days, the attitude toward Moran has shifted markedly among the Aerians in the Halls.”
Clint nodded. “She’s thepraevolo.”
“She’s always been thepraevolo.”
“Yes—but no one can argue with that fact now. She’s thepraevolo. If there are further assassination attempts, they won’t come from Aerians.” He spoke this as a flat fact. Kaylin wasn’t nearly as certain. “She’s out of danger now. And the rest of us aren’t being pushed by the currents, either. But you’ve got that look that says this isn’t good enough—for you.”
“I’ve got that look,” Kaylin countered, “because I don’t believe it’s over. I don’t believe things are settled. This didn’t just start when Moran got injured in the battle over the High Halls. It’s been going on all her life. You know that they tried to have her killed when she was a child, right?”
Clint stiffened. That was a no. If the stiffness wasn’t enough, she could see the color of his eyes. She really hated Barrani blue when it settled in Aerian eyes. On Barrani, it was more natural.
