Michelle Sagara - Cast In Honour

“In this, your rank will preserve most of your hide. You’re a private. I’m a corporal.”

“Don’t remind me.”

* * *

They didn’t make it all the way down the stairs; Bellusdeo stopped walking suddenly, and Severn stopped just before he ran into her back. Kaylin, worrying about Bellusdeo, stopped when she ran into Severn’s back.

“What is it?” she asked.

Bellusdeo said, “The door. The front door.”

Kaylin pivoted and ran up the basement stairs. The small dragon folded his wings, slimming the lines of his body; for once he didn’t drape himself across Kaylin’s shoulders like a spineless, translucent shawl.

Two people stood in the front vestibule. One was a tall, slender man whose skin was pale in a way that reminded Kaylin too much of corpses. His clothing was fine; if he appeared at the Imperial Palace, he was unlikely to be sent to the trade entrance, unlike Kaylin herself. His hair was darker than Kaylin’s, his eyes darker, as well. He was just a smidge taller than Severn.

The second person was a young girl of intermediate age—not enough of her was visible behind the man. Her hair seemed to be a tightly braided, pale brown without the highlights that often made paler hair stand out, and her skin was that mix of ruddy and pale that implied temporary ill health—at least in the young of Kaylin’s acquaintance. But she clearly got more sun than the man who stood between the Hawks and the girl like a shield.

“What,” he asked, in a tone that made ice seem warm, “are you doing in my home?”

The girl peered out from behind his back, then tugged on his sleeve.

He glanced down at her, his expression softening.

“They’re Hawks,” she whispered. It seemed to Kaylin that she was attempting to either comfort or encourage him.

“There was some trouble in the neighborhood late last night or early this morning,” Teela told him, taking over the conversation as she pushed herself to the front of their five-person group; the hall had become quite crowded. “We’re here to investigate that.”

“I assure you that there was no difficulty in this house.”

The small dragon squawked softly.

He was not, however, inaudible, and the sound immediately drew two stares. The man’s was frozen and unblinking; he seemed to become a motionless, breathless statue. But the girl came out from behind him, her eyes wide and bright with curiosity. They were lighter in color than they’d first appeared. She took two quick steps, but the man caught her by the shoulder, pulling her back.

Kaylin understood his cautious gesture and immediately crossed the hall toward her; no one followed.

“Is it alive?” the girl asked in a hushed voice.

The small dragon leaned down and squawked more emphatically, which was answer enough.

“Look at it! Look at it!”

The man was doing exactly that; he seemed to shake immobility off with great effort. The smile he offered the girl was, however, genuine. “I am. Where did you come by that creature?”

“Long story,” Kaylin replied. To the girl, she added, “I think he’s one of a kind.”

“Can I hold him?”

Kaylin glanced at the small dragon, who appeared to be sighing in resignation. He opened his wings, hit Kaylin in the face with the left one and hopped off her shoulder. The girl held out her hands; he hovered above them dubiously.

“Don’t grab him, and don’t squeeze—he hates that.” She actually had no idea if that was true, but it was a safe assumption.

The girl’s nod was energetic as the small dragon did, finally, land in her hands. He lifted his head and sniffed her hair, and then her cheeks, while she giggled. “It tickles!”

Kaylin was much closer to the man now and revised her estimate of his height. “I’m Private Kaylin Neya,” she said, extending her hand.

“I am Gilbert Rayelle,” he replied. He made no attempt to take the offered hand, and after a few increasingly awkward seconds, Kaylin lowered hers.

“We have a few questions we’d like to ask you,” Teela said, picking up where she’d left off.

“This is not the best time.”

“And we regret the inconvenience,” she replied. Her tone contained no regret at all. It contained no anger, either. Her eyes, however, were dark blue. So were Tain’s. Kaylin glanced at Bellusdeo, whose eyes were almost red. She’d bypassed the shades of orange that usually served as a warning.

“Kattea,” Gilbert said, “why don’t you go upstairs. It’s not yet time for lunch, and I must answer their questions.”

“Can I take him with me?” Kattea asked Kaylin.

Kaylin shook her head. “He’s my partner. One of them, anyway,” she added, catching Severn’s eye.

“Kattea.”

The girl very carefully handed the small dragon back to its owner. “I’m staying,” she said.

Gilbert looked ill-pleased, but to Kaylin’s surprise, he didn’t argue.

“They’re Hawks,” she continued. “They’re not going to hurt me. I haven’t done anything wrong.” When Gilbert failed to answer, she continued, “They’re not going to hurt you, either—you haven’t done anything wrong.” She spoke the second statement with as much conviction as the first.

Kaylin, observing the reactions of the immortals surrounding her, wasn’t nearly as confident.

“Won’t you come in?” Kattea invited. “And sit?”

This was so clearly not what Gilbert intended that Kaylin wanted to laugh. She suppressed the urge as the small dragon returned to her shoulder, where he drew breath and squawked, this time loudly. He appeared to be talking to Bellusdeo. The Dragon’s brows rose, but her eyes didn’t get any redder, which was a small mercy. Before she could reply, the small dragon swiveled to face Gilbert and screeched at him, as well.

“I think he’s talking,” Kattea said. To Kaylin, she added, “Can you understand him?”

“Not really.”

“Me, neither.” She turned to Gilbert, clearly hoping that he could. “What did he say to you?”

“He said ‘hello.’”

Kattea looked dubious. “All that was ‘hello’?”

“ Hello , in the old country, is long and involved,” Gilbert replied. “It involves a statement of intent, a statement of limitations and a statement of the rules the guest is offering to follow.”

“That’s not hello , Gilbert.”

“Not in Elantra, no.”

“What did he say to the lady?”

Gilbert hesitated.

Kattea, showing the patience of ten-year-olds everywhere, turned immediately to Bellusdeo. She started to repeat her question, stopped and asked, “Why are your eyes red? Have you been crying?”

“No,” the Dragon replied.

“What did he say to you?”

“He said that Gilbert is not, at the moment, my enemy, and reminds me that my people are not all of one mind, and in like fashion, Gilbert may not be what I have...come to expect.”

“So...not hello .”

“No.” She exhaled, her eyes shading ever-so-slightly toward orange. “The small creature had better be right.” She exhaled again, which was a good trick, because Kaylin would have bet she hadn’t inhaled in between. “I apologize for my poor temper, Kattea. Your manners have been much better than mine. We would be delighted to accept your offer of hospitality.”

* * *

Kattea was a bustling whirlwind of energy and concentration for the next twenty minutes. The house was modest in size and it was clear that they had no servants—and that Kattea did not mind, or even recognize, the absence. She chattered politely but enthusiastically, she beamed and she reproached Gilbert for his heavy silence—without once sounding anything less than familial.

For his part, Gilbert was stiff as dry wood and about as expressive. He laid his arms on the armrest of his large, curve-backed chair and left them there as if he was clinging to it for dear life.