It did take a bit of time to find an appropriate place for Bellusdeo to land. Bellusdeo wasn’t fussed, but the Aerian guards were. Kaylin could almost see the argument the golden Dragon was having on the inside of her head, but she came down on the side ofdon’t cause unnecessary difficulty with the Imperial Court. It was probably why they were friends. Bellusdeo had as much difficulty with the restrictions of political life as Kaylin did.
The landing space was, to Kaylin’s surprise, well accoutred; it was not a level or two down, as she’d expected.
Severn found this amusing.How many Dragons are likely to pay a personal visit to the Aerie?
Oh.She could imagine the Emperor’s reaction. The Emperor had no difficulty whatsoever with the restrictions of Imperial political life. He’d probably take offense, and in general, offending the Emperor was otherwise known as suicide.
She was less impressed by the obvious magical protections, and the small dragon, so much a part of her that she could—and did—forget that he was there when he wasn’t actively biting her hair, rose up on his haunches. She thought of his scarf-like posture as his bored Barrani posture. When he sat up, it wasn’t generally a good sign.
But she didn’t need him to sit up to realize that if the Emperor was accorded the respect due his rank and station, he was also accorded the respect due his power. There was so much magic in this giant room that Kaylin was surprised there was any space for anything normal. Like, say, stone.
Moran came in at the same time as Bellusdeo. She landed very, very lightly on her feet, her injured wings spread as if to imply she didn’t require ground. With her came the twelve Hawks.
Greeting them were Aerians Kaylin privately dismissed as the equivalent of Palace Guards. They were, to a man, blue-eyed, but their attention was split evenly between the golden Dragon—now human-sized and encased in scale armor—and thepraevolo. Whatever had happened to change the way the Hawks saw Moran hadn’t made it this far up into the rarified atmosphere.
The two groups—Hawks out of uniform and Palace Guards, by any other name—sized each other up with about the same amount of friendliness their grounded counterparts usually displayed.
None.
But there was no attack and no exchange of insults; each group was aware that bad behavior on their part would reflect poorly on the people they served.
Teela hadn’t bothered to ditch her tabard; neither had Tain. Severn was in Hawk gear, as was Kaylin. Moran waspraevolo; Bellusdeo, Dragon.
Into this room walked an Aerian. He had chosen to enter on the ground, which was unusual; Kaylin wasn’t sure if it was a good sign or a bad one. He did have wings; they were high and stiff, his eyes, blue.
The small dragon squawked. Loudly.
Bellusdeo, frowning, looked back at the familiar.
The Aerian who had entered the room looked at the familiar as well, his eyes narrowing, his expression betraying actual surprise. His face was about as warm as the stone floors, and about as animated, otherwise.
The small dragon lifted a wing, almost casually, and laid it against Kaylin’s face—without smacking her first.
But the Arcanist lifted a hand as well, and Kaylin threw herself to the side and ducked as the air just above her shoulder burst into blue flame.
* * *
As the start to a delicate interaction, it wasn’t promising. Kaylin had her hand around the familiar before a second bolt of blue fire was launched, not that it was likely to protect the familiar.
For his part, the familiar roared. Although he was not otherwise in the large form he sometimes adopted, his voice suited it; it was like listening to Dragon rage, up close and personal.
Bellusdeo moved, as well.
Teela, however, raised a brow and lifted only a hand. Kaylin’s arms, which were already tingling as if slapped, went numb—as if a sharp, impossible pain spike had passed through them.
Severn’s weapon chain was already spinning. The Aerie had very, very large rooms and very, very high ceilings—it was the ideal space for its use.
The only person who didn’t move a muscle was Moran. She met the gaze of the Aerian who was clearly the Arcanist with folded arms.
“I suggest you contain yourself,” she told him, her voice the kind of loud a sergeant’s can get—all volume, no screech. “If you accidentally injure Lord Bellusdeo, the Aerie will be worth less than ash to the Eternal Emperor. The room itself is impressive,” she added. “But it’s not nearly enough to contain an angry Emperor.”
“I don’t think it’s the Emperor he’s afraid of,” Bellusdeo added. She sounded so subdued, Kaylin was instantly on her guard. Or more on her guard.
The Aerian’s eyes had narrowed into blue slits.
“The familiar,” Kaylin told him sharply, “is mine. If you try to harm him again, I’ll let him breathe on you.”
“And you can stop him from doing so?”
