The small dragon, flopped across Kaylin’s shoulder, lifted his head and squawked.
“We’re good to go,” Kaylin said.
Bellusdeo was reassuming her mortal shape. Given her lack of clothing, she instead donned Dragon armor, scales becoming plates that girded the whole of her body. Kaylin knew this included a helm, but Bellusdeo wasn’t fond of helms. Her hair was a glorious spill down her back; it matched and softened the rest of the armor.
“The Emperor is going to kill me,” Kaylin told the Dragon glumly.
“He wouldn’t dare,” Bellusdeo said with a quirky smile. “This one wasn’t aimed at me.”
Before Moran could speak, Kaylin turned to her and said, “Don’t even think it.”
“Think what?”
“Helen is the safest place for you to live in Elantra. You’re not moving out. There’s a reason the Emperor is willing to let Bellusdeo live with us.”
“I hadn’t even considered it,” Moran replied. When she saw Kaylin’s expression, she added, “It’s the truth. I’m busy considering who might feel desperate enough to kill me today. And why.”
“How many candidates are there?” Bellusdeo asked as they headed into the building.
“More than one.” The sergeant’s eyes were a steady, darkening blue. “I’d ask you not to mention this,” she added, “but given our method of arrival—and escape—it’s impossible to keep it secret.”
“From who?” Kaylin demanded.
“Lord Grammayre.” She closed her eyes. “And the rest of the Aerians.”
“The rest of the Aerians areHawks, Moran. There’s only one way to take this.”
Moran’s expression made her look older and frailer. “The rest of the Aerians are people, kitling.” She almost never used the Barrani-coined diminutive. “They have lives outside of the Halls of Law, and most of those lives take place in the Aerie. It’s not as simple as you’d like it to be.”
“No, of course not,” Kaylin replied. “Nothing ever is.”
* * *
The first argument occurred within the Halls, rather than outside the main doors. Kaylin didn’t want to let Moran go to the infirmary on her own. Moran pointed out—correctly—that Kaylin’s job depended on adifferentsergeant, and he was probably orange-eyed and long-clawed by this point.
“He needed a new desk anyway,” Kaylin replied. “I don’t expect mages to show up in the infirmary to kill you. But it doesn’t take a mage.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“You could, before. But you can’t evenuseone of your wings.” Those wings were not just for flight; they could be used to devastating effect in close physical combat. Although Kaylin had never seen Moran fight that way, shehadseen Clint at work. It wasn’t pretty. “Let me heal it, Moran.”
“No.”
“Let me heal it, or I’m not going.”
Bellusdeo silently lifted Kaylin off her feet. “If it’s acceptable to you, Sergeant,” the Dragon said, “I would like to remain in the infirmary with you. The private, of course, has other duties.”
“The Emperor isn’t going to like that,” Moran said, but her lips were quirked in an odd smile as she met the Dragon’s gaze.
“No, he isn’t, is he?” Bellusdeo’s eyes lost a lot of their orange then.
Moran’s lost a lot of their blue.
Kaylin’s gaze bounced between them while her feet dangled off the ground.
“Yes, it’s acceptable to me. Please see Private Neya out.”
* * *
