“And when you’re the Hawklord, I’m sure she’ll open up and become forthcoming. Until reality fractures, it’s not happening. Don’t look at me like that. Thanks to you, I’m living with Mr. Obsessive.” His grimace deepened as he pushed himself up from the table. “And when I sayliving, I use that word because there’s no suitable bad one.”
Mandoran stayed home when Bellusdeo and Kaylin left for the office. He had clearly regretted the necessity, but Annarion insisted on company in his misery.
Kaylin was surprised at how used to Bellusdeo’s company she’d become. She was apparently enough of a fixture on the Elani beat that Kaylin had gratefully resumed that most of the merchants and regular customers now failed to notice her.
Her familiar was perched alertly on her left shoulder, and occasionally he chittered like a bird. This grabbed more attention than when he sprawled like a lifeless scarf, but if she was being fair, not a lot more. She had become completely accustomed to having Hope around, and wondered ifhecould be made the Hawk’s official mascot, since the position hadn’t been filled when Kaylin had graduated from it.
Someone, however, had pointed out that something that looked like a Dragon, even if glass and in miniature, was never going to be made an official mascot. To anyone who didn’t know Kaylin’s familiar, the visual would be thumbing the Hawks’ collective nose in the Emperor’s direction, and given that the Hawks in theory served the Emperor, that would be bad.
“Evanton?” Severn asked.
Kaylin shook her head. “And no Margot, either. I’d like a normal, boring day if it’s all the same to you.”
“That’s a pity.”
“Oh?”
“I think I see Grethan in the window.”
* * *
Kaylin liked Grethan. Given their first encounter, she would have bet that would be impossible. But he worked hard, he obeyed Evanton, and he seemed to be helpful. It didn’t hurt that Kaylin’s familiar seemed to really like him as well; he immediately pushed himself off Kaylin and landed on the apprentice.
Grethan’s forehead antennae were weaving in and around the familiar’s face as Grethan spoke. Kaylin waited until their greetings had more or less finished, and then cleared her throat.
The apprentice blushed. “He’s waiting for you in the kitchen.”
“Any idea what he wants?”
“No, sorry. If it helps, he’s not in a bad mood today.” He hesitated and then added, “He’s been in a bad mood all week—if you could maybe not irritate him, I’d really,reallyappreciate it.”
* * *
Evanton was, as Grethan indicated, sitting in the kitchen in front of a pot of steaming tea, none of which he usually drank.
“Is this going to take a while?” she asked as she slid into a chair and looked for the cookie tin.
“Why do you ask?”
“You made tea.”
“It happens on occasion when I’m entertaining guests.”
“You were expecting someone else?”
“I was expecting you, of course.”
“I’m on duty,” she told him.
“Corporal?”
Severn smiled and shook his head; he could drink tea, but seldom did while on duty. Kaylin, however, looked at the counter, on which the cookie tin rested. Evanton nodded and she rose to fetch it.
“I have heard disturbing rumors,” he said, while she was prying the slightly warped lid off.
“About?”
“The West March.”
