Cast in Deception Read online

“Teela will be moving in with me for a while.”

  “Then she either accepts that you’re going to be involved, or she is extraordinarily optimistic for a Barrani.” Moran did, however, catch her by the arm as she attempted to move past her to evade the rest of the lecture. “I’ve half a mind to ask Helen if I can come for a visit.”

  “You just left.”

  “And I regret my timing. I won’t tell you not to do what you feel is right. But I really want you to consider the ramifications.”

  “So I’ll change my mind?”

  Moran snorted. “So you’ll have some warning and be a little bit better prepared. That’s the trick to being a power. It’s also why anyone sane and reasonable doesn’t really want to become one.” She released Kaylin’s arm. “If this kills you or harms you...”

  “I’m not going to feel any worse than you would have felt,” Teela said sharply.

  “And I know how I would have felt,” Moran replied. “I think she’s probably in less danger right now—but I wouldn’t bet on it, given Mandoran and Annarion.”

  “She invited the Consort to dinner. The Consort accepted.”

  “I really wouldn’t bet on it.”

  10

  Kaylin did not understand the point of dinner guests. Or rather, of having guests over for dinner. She understood the concept of eating. She understood the concept of eating with friends. Clearly a meal that one was serving, and to which one invited friends, was somehow entirely different.

  Bellusdeo, who disliked the fussiness of what was now considered good table manners, was inclined to agree, but without the frustration. Her eyes had shaded orange, but only slightly, when she had been informed of the Consort’s pending visit.

  “No,” she said, before Kaylin could suggest it, “I think it highly unwise to have the Emperor and the Consort together at the same dinner table. I would like to meet your Consort, and I admit it might be amusing to watch the two of them in the same room—but in this case, amusement would likely be fleeting, and consequences would not.”

  Annarion, on the other hand, was practically hyperventilating. Mandoran, the more laid back of the two—well, technically, the most laid back Barrani she had ever met—was also blue-eyed and tense. Since they occupied the dining room, which was kind of Helen’s equivalent to the mess hall in the office, Kaylin pulled up a chair.

  Nightshade had once again been allowed to speak to Kaylin through the shared bond of his name. When Helen was not feeling charitable, he couldn’t—not when Kaylin was at home. Clearly, Helen was feeling charitable. Either that or she thought Nightshade would say something she wanted Kaylin to hear. Regardless of Helen’s motivations, Kaylin wasn’t terribly surprised to hear Nightshade, loud and clear.

  The fieflord was not Ynpharion, but he found Kaylin’s entirely casual invitation almost as dumbfounding as the disapproving Barrani Lord did.

  She is akin to an Empress, he said, in a chilly internal tone. To the Barrani, inviting the Consort to dinner is only slightly less political than inviting the High Lord.

  It’s not political.

  It is. You did not have political intentions. Your intentions, however, do not matter. I am slightly surprised that the Lady agreed to your request. And not entirely pleased, Kaylin thought. She disagreed. Politics was all about intention.

  No, it is not. You are thinking like a Hawk.

  Because I am one.

  Very well. Politics of the nature with which you are familiar are about preventing crimes, or rather, preventing their consequences in regard to oneself. Think of yourself as a corpse. To you, it doesn’t matter if you died because you caught a disease, got hit by a carriage, or had your throat slit. In the case of the latter, it is probably a much kinder death than the illness. As a Hawk, the only death that matters is the latter.

  But you are not a Hawk here. The outcome is the important factor because it is the only one which will be seen. In the case of my example, that is the death. In the case of the Consort, it is her condescension. Her presence. You have extended an invitation. This is not unusual, although in your case, given your race, it would be considered presumptuous.

  Of course it would.

  She has, however, accepted. In the best case, she will be considered overindulgent and willfully sentimental—you would be seen as a favored pet.

  She’d been on the books as official mascot before she was old enough to join the Hawks as an actual officer of the law. She could live with that, and had.

  In the worst case, you will be seen as a threat. The Consort’s dignity is above visiting an insignificant mortal who is not even a member of the Caste Court. If she is willing to publicly accept this loss of dignity, it must be because you hold power over her.

  Or maybe we’re friends?

  The powerful do not have friends.

  Kaylin’s teeth were going to be smooth nubs, she was grinding them so heavily. She didn’t, however, want to have an argument with Nightshade about friendship. Or anything, really.

  I am not arguing, he predictably said. But you have entered into a political arena. What matters is not what you believe, here; it is what will be seen and believed by others. And I concur with Bellusdeo. If the Emperor is to visit again—

  He is.

  —it would be best for all involved if that visit did not overlap with the Consort’s. The Consort is not your enemy, but she has enemies. She has fewer enemies than any others who would hold rank in the High Court, but fewer in the case of the Barrani does not imply safety.

  But no Barrani would hurt her.

  Not directly, no. Nor would they kill her if they had that option; it is not in the best interests of the race, and not in the interests of those whose families are not secure. But to control her? Yes.

  Kaylin frowned, thinking. What would they want from her? She won’t refuse to name their children—I don’t think she can.

  No. But it is the belief of my kin that the Consort chooses the name. Always. For some, interfering with, and heavily influencing, that choice would be considered in the best interests of the family. And that, she could do.

  I don’t think it works that way.

  No. And for the record, neither do I. But the mysteries of the Lake are shrouded and uncertain to my kin; only the Consort knows and understands them. She is also the Lady, wife to the High Lord, and her political power and influence is strong. She might decline to use them as most of my kin would, but it is not because she lacks the tools.

  Why do you think she wants to come here?

  It is secure, for one. But I believe that she wishes to meet and evaluate Teela’s kin, and at the moment, they are not precisely welcome in the High Halls. They could go. I could not, however, supervise a visit there. Andellen could. But he considers it highly unwise.

  So do you.

  Ah. You’d noticed that? His voice was dry as kindling. It is not too late to rethink the invitation you have extended. Were I you, I would do so.

  I think Annarion would be upset.

  Nightshade said nothing.

  * * *

  The Barrani Hawks were back on duty the following day, minus the one who remained in the infirmary under Moran’s care. Teela and Tain were sent to the warrens. Kaylin was almost certain that the request had been made by Teela, which was technically against the rules—but the people who handled the paperwork were Hawks, and they knew when technicalities had to be ignored.

  There had been no word from the Imperial Mages; investigation of the security of the mirror network was clearly not their first priority, but that did give the Hawklord an excuse to curtail acceptance of external mirror messages. It was an obvious attempt to delay acceptance of Barrani Caste Court notification. Kaylin did not believe there had been a breach of the mirror network, and she was pretty certain the Hawklord didn’t, either.

  Severn and Kaylin w
ere back on Elani. If the office was quiet—and it was—it wasn’t the fear-laden variety. It was the breath-held variety, and Kaylin was just as happy to patrol as remain there. She’d never been good at figuring out when to break an awkward silence, and even when she had managed to make this intuitive leap, was pretty bad at breaking it in a way that wasn’t as awkward.

  Annarion, after overcoming his initial shock, had doubled down on practicing with Helen with the news of the Consort’s visit; he was grim, silent, and absent at breakfast. Mandoran was present but looked hungover, which in theory didn’t happen to Barrani. He gave Kaylin a baleful glare, followed immediately by a wince.

  “When’s Teela coming to stay?”

  “Soon.”

  “Meaning you don’t know.”

  “Meaning I don’t know exactly, no. In case you missed it, she’s not my responsibility. And she really hates it when people fuss over her.” After a brief pause, Kaylin then asked, “Have you gotten any more out of her?”

  “About the assassination attempt?”

  “That, yes.”

  “Nothing. I think she’s afraid I’ll tell you.”

  “It’s Hawk business.”

  “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 say living, 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 if he could 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, really appreciate 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.”

  Kaylin cringed. Because she could eat at any time, she took a cookie before she returned to the table, leaving the open tin on the counter. At a raised eyebrow, she rose and put the lid back, as Evanton wasn’t terribly fond of mice, and apparently had some anyway.

  “Yes,” she said, deflating, “there have been some problems.”

  Bellusdeo treated Evanton with respect; in Kaylin’s experience, Evanton was the only obvious recipient of Bellusdeo’s deference. The Dragon’s eyes were orange. “You seldom mention rumors that are irrelevant. What do you feel it is important for us to know?”

  Evanton smiled, which deepened the lines around the corners of his mouth and eyes. “I call them rumors for a reason. In this case, the information conveyed to me was done so indirectly. There is some danger involving the Hallionne.”

  Silence. Bellusdeo passed the conversation back to Kaylin with a glance.

  “Did your rumors detail which Hallionne?”

  “Ah, no. It appears to be a collective problem. I am not,” he added, “Barrani, and I have not traveled by the Hallionne paths for a very, very long time. Before you ask, my prior experience is irrelevant, and regardless, I am not in a position to travel now.”

  Kaylin’s frown grew extra lines. “Have you talked to Teela?”

  “It so happens that she dropped by to pay her respects, yes. And by respect, I do not mean slouch at the table and eat all the cookies.”

  Kaylin straightened up.

  “Better. She wanted to speak about Mandoran.”

  “Specifically Mandoran?”

  “The garden was not pleased to see him the first time he visited, if you recall. She wished me to speak specifically with the wild elements to ascertain exactly why.”

  “The elements don’t work that way.”

  “No. Very good, by the way.” He waited.

  “She can’t possibly expect me to talk to the elements?”

  “I assure you she doesn’t.”

  “...You want me to talk to them.”

  “I would appreciate any attempt you might make to talk to the water. Teela did not seem particularly interested in that solution. But you appear to have an affinity for it. The water is the primary source of my rumors, and the water is...very concerned.”

  “Did the water explain what her difficulty with Mandoran was?”

  Evanton exhaled. “No, not precisely. The water does speak in a fashion that the other elements do not—no doubt due to the influence of the Tha’alaan. But the words the water offered were opaque. The element understands their meaning. I do not; Teela did not appear to understand them, either.

  “But the water’s replies to An’Teela’s questions—through me as intermediary—were broader than Mandoran. There is concern about people who are similar to Mandoran, at least if I understood what was said.” He did not look at all certain. “In your parlance,” he added, “and with deference to Bellusdeo, there is a possibility of the involvement of Shadow.” He held up a hand as Bellusdeo opened her mouth. “It is not a certainty, and I do not guarantee certainty without some conversation with the water itself.”

  “Did I mention I’m on du
ty?”

  “I would, of course, as a merchant who pays taxes, expect you to do this on your own time.”

  Of course.

  * * *

  Bellusdeo was not happy to wait, but understood Kaylin’s reasons. Barely. The Dragon was aware, however, that even the mention of Shadow sent her into panic mode, and she was willing to walk out the duration of an Elani beat that had become irrelevant to her.

  The rest of the Elani patrol passed without incident. Kaylin returned to the Halls, filed a brief report which went into the “not an emergency and can be shredded” pile on Marcus’s desk, and then paced the office floors. She was now afraid of two things.

  One: the Consort would agree with the Lords who wanted Teela’s cohort to be made outcaste, and two: the Emperor would lose his scales when she attempted to cancel his dinner.

  The former would mean that she would once again be in conflict with the Consort, and she wasn’t certain that she would be forgiven as easily or as quickly a second time. The latter meant that she would be in conflict with the Emperor, because she would have to explain why she was canceling the informal dinner. She had never explicitly said much about either Annarion or Mandoran.

  While it was true that the attack on the High Halls at the heart of the upscale part of the city was technically their fault, they hadn’t called the ancestors on purpose. They wouldn’t have been aware they were calling them at all had it not been for Helen, and they remained indoors—or at least Annarion did—in a desperate attempt to learn to be silent.

  Mandoran found it easier; Kaylin wasn’t certain why. Mandoran was therefore allowed out of doors, because Helen didn’t consider him to be a danger. Either that or she just wanted peace and quiet; Mandoran was chatty. And whiny.

  But the Emperor’s hoard was the empire, and the heart of the empire was his city. He was unlikely to calmly accept that the loss of so many lives had been accidental, and seen that way, Kaylin wouldn’t entirely blame him. But she was a Hawk, and intent did matter.

  * * *

  Helen was waiting at the door when Kaylin arrived home.

  “What happened?”

  “You have an appointment at the palace.”