“It’smyconcern,” Kaylin said, staring pointedly at the pendant that dangled from the chain. It, like the chain that held it, appeared to be silver; it was, to no one’s surprise, a small, stylized depiction of a feather.
“Yes,” Evanton agreed. He handed her the item he’d made. “It is. Your problem, that is. If you will excuse me, I have work to do.”
* * *
The rest of Elani was its usual fraudulent self. The merchants and street hawkers weren’t happy to see Kaylin and Severn, but they never were unless discovery of their fraud prompted former customers to get a bit of their own back from the fraud’s hide. Kaylin considered this attempt justified, and had pointed out to many that it was a consequence of lying and preying on the foolish dreams of the desperate. The criminals, though, pointed out that this was assault, possibly heading toward murder.
Today, however, no street brawls came to interrupt them. No commotion outside of Margot’s. The only people who seemed to want the attention of the patrolling Hawks were people who hadn’t seen—or hadn’t yet paid attention to—the familiar draped across Kaylin’s shoulders. To be fair, when he was like this, he didn’t seem to be particularly real. He might have been a very unusual shoulder adornment; gods knew the merchants here sold some very strange ones.
“Where did you buy that?”
Since the answer was complicated, Kaylin didn’t bother. “He found me,” she said. “And stuck around.”
A predictable offer of money in exchange for the small dragon followed, the amount escalating with each refusal. On Elani Street it was practically criminal to refuse to sell something for the right price. The right price, however, was elusive.
* * *
“Please don’t tell me that Margot is trying to get our attention.”
“I don’t think she’s trying to get mine, if that’ll do.”
Kaylin muttered a short Leontine curse. Leontine wasn’t really a good language for quiet cursing when on duty. “Can we ignore her? I’ve had a bad week and I don’t want to add to it.”
“She probably can’t make it any worse.”
“She’s inventive. She probably can.” Kaylin grimaced and gave in to the inevitable. She waited by the sandwich board in front of Margot’s window until Margot came out to speak with them.
“I know you’re not happy to see me,” the redhead said.
Since this was more or less true, Kaylin shrugged.
“I’m not particularly happy to see you, either,” Margot continued. “And I seriously considered ignoring your presence—but you didn’t trip over my board today.”
This made Kaylin flush. “I usually pick it up.”
“Your partner usually picks it up,” Margot corrected her. She was a very, very attractive woman. Her hair was a bright red, her skin was the type of pale that redheads of that variety usually sported, her eyes—today—were green. They changed color, not with mood, but with money and magical enhancements. Kaylin had no idea what their natural color was.
“I had a new client today.”
Kaylin said, “Was he Aerian?”
“Funny you should ask that. No, he wasn’t.”
“Why is it funny I should ask that?”
“His questions seemed to revolve around Aerians. He was not young,” she added, “and he was very, very well dressed. Almost too well.”
“Is that even possible?”
“I’m thinking out loud. He was extremely expensively dressed. And I didn’t recognize either him or the name he left. He was human,” she added, as if this were necessary. It wasn’t, really—most of the dupes that came willingly to Elani to empty their pockets were. But Margot’s clientele spanned the gamut. One of her clients had once caused Kaylin extreme difficulty, being related to a castelord.
“I’m listening,” Kaylin said when Margot paused. Margot didn’t usually offer anything like help to the Hawks.
“You’re wondering why I’ve approached you.”
“Kind of, yeah. Can we go inside?”
Margot nodded, turned, and led the way in.
