Michelle Sagara - Cast in Peril

* * *

Sanabalis was enraged. If he’d opened his mouth and foot-long fangs had sprouted, it would have looked completely natural. Kaylin, who’d been following on Bellusdeo’s heels, almost backed out of the carriage. She managed not to, but only barely. “I—I have another place to stay,” she began.

“Get. In.”

She did. To Kaylin’s surprise, given his mood, Sanabalis did not slam the carriage door.

They traveled halfway to the Palace in silence. Sanabalis broke it, because he was the only one who dared—or cared to; Bellusdeo didn’t seem overly concerned with his mood. “What is sitting on your shoulder?”

“The—the hatchling,” Kaylin replied, managing to stop the words small dragon from leaving her mouth.

“Hatchling?”

“I— Yes. From an egg.”

He raised a brow, and the color of his eyes began to brighten into a much safer orange. On the usual bad day, orange wasn’t a safe color; funny how context was everything. “Generally the word hatch implies egg. What egg?”

“I don’t suppose we can wait until we get to the Palace? The Arkon’s going to ask the same questions.”

A white brow rose as Sanabalis snorted smoke into the enclosed space.

* * *

When the carriage pulled into the Imperial drive, the road was swarming with guards. This was impressive, because Diarmat implied he’d taken a few dozen with him; she wondered if any of the Imperial Guard was off duty tonight. More impressive, for a value of impressive Kaylin often found annoying, were the half-dozen older men in the robes of the Imperial Order of Mages. If they resented being dragooned into guard duty, they very carefully kept it off their faces as Sanabalis and Bellusdeo disembarked. They even managed to do so when Kaylin did.

They were less impressively poker-faced when they caught sight of the glass dragon perched on her shoulder, but only one man was foolish enough to ask, and he didn’t get more of an answer than Sanabalis’s curt dismissal.

“Private,” the Dragon Lord said to Kaylin as the mages who were technically junior to him in every conceivable way did the polite version of scattering, “you will spend the evening in the Palace in our most secure chambers.”

“How much magic is in your secure chambers?” Kaylin asked, trying not to cringe.

“Not enough, I’m certain, to be unbearably uncomfortable.”

“Meaning I can live with the discomfort.”

“If you feel any, yes. I do not require that you do this in silence; I require that you do it where no Dragon—except Lady Bellusdeo—is in danger of hearing you.”

* * *

Sanabalis led them into the Palace, where a by-now familiar man in a perfectly tailored suit was waiting. He bowed to Sanabalis, bowed far more deeply to Bellusdeo, and then led them to a part of the Palace that Kaylin vaguely recognized: it was where Marcus’s wives had briefly stayed.

“These will be your rooms,” he told both Kaylin and Bellusdeo. “If you prefer separate quarters—”

“We don’t,” Bellusdeo replied before Kaylin could gratefully accept the offer.

“Very good.” He bowed, making clear by this gesture that Kaylin’s preferences counted for the usual nothing. “Food will be provided at the usual mealtimes. If you require specific food or desire it on a different schedule, that can be accommodated. If there are any specific likes or dislikes—”

Kaylin opened her mouth; Bellusdeo lifted her hand. Clearly her hand was also more important. “We are satisfied. Thank you.”

The man then bowed and left them alone—with Sanabalis.

“He was just getting to the good part,” Kaylin told Bellusdeo.

“Which part would that be?”

“The part where I get to choose whatever it is I’m being fed.”

“Given the quality of what you do eat, I believe you’ll survive your silence.” She turned to Sanabalis. “Please don’t let us detain you.”

Sanabalis, whose eyes were still orange, met her dismissal impassively; he also folded his arms across his chest.

“Yes?”

“The Emperor requests a moment of your time.”

Kaylin froze.

“Not yours, Private. He merely wishes to ascertain that Bellusdeo is, in fact, unharmed. He was…most upset…when word of the attack reached the Palace.”

“He must have been if he mobilized half the Dragon Court so quickly.”

“That mobilization was not a response to the attack,” was the curt reply. “And no, before you ask, I’m not at liberty to discuss it. Lady Bellusdeo?”

“I would of course be both honored and delighted to speak with the Eternal Emperor. I do, however, have one request.”

“And that?”

“I believe Kaylin should speak with the Arkon, unless the moment of time the Emperor requests also involves the Arkon’s presence.”

“It does not, and I believe your request can easily be accommodated. We will escort the Private to the Library before you speak with the Emperor, if that will suffice. Corporal, if you would care to accompany us?”

“I wouldn’t dream of missing it.” There were whole days when Kaylin hated Dragons.

* * *

The Arkon was not, in fact, in a red-eyed, raging fury. He was only barely bronze-eyed, and given any other Immortal she’d seen this evening, that was a blessing; it wasn’t as if the Arkon ever looked happy to see her. He did, however, say, “I see the reports of your demise were exaggerated.”

Kaylin’s eyes rounded. “Someone told you I was dead?”

“It was rumored that you were, in fact, dead.”

“You didn’t believe it.”

“I believe there is a phrase that is in common usage among your kind: ‘Only the good die young.’” The Arkon was seated at a table in the main Library, surrounded by books, scrolls, and a handful of very expensive crystals, none of which were activated. He had a mirror to the left, buttressed by books; it, too, was inactive. Seeing the direction of Kaylin’s glance, the Arkon said, “Yes, I was about to resume my work.” Frowning, he added, “What exactly are you carrying?”

“Sanabalis, did you want to stay for this part?”

The Arkon cleared his throat loudly.

“Lord Sanabalis, sorry.” The small dragon sat up in her hands but spread his translucent wings as he did. “This is a—hatchling.”

“It looks remarkably like a tiny, glass dragon.”

Bellusdeo rolled her eyes; she did not, however, snort. “Lannagaros, your eyesight is clearly failing.”

The Arkon winced. “Bellusdeo, I would appreciate it if you would observe correct form; I am the Arkon.”

She raised a pale brow but said nothing.

“Private Neya?”

“You remember there was a lot of trouble caused by the magical flux of the portal that eventually opened in Elani?”

“Indeed.”

“It affected a number of different things. Among them, deliveries—of babies,” she added, because from the Arkon’s expression, the distinction needed to be made. “Not, apparently, pregnancies; any baby born in the area after the portal had opened was normal.”

He nodded.

“One of the births produced an egg, rather than a normal infant. The father wasn’t interested in keeping the egg, and it was handed to me. I was going to give it to Evanton, but I never had the chance; Elani still hasn’t been fully opened to normal pedestrian traffic, and Evanton’s been—busy.”

“So you kept the egg.”

“I did.”

“She took care of it,” Bellusdeo interjected, “as if she’d laid it herself.”

“Bellusdeo, don’t you have somewhere else you have to be?” Kaylin asked sharply.

“Apparently, yes, but I’m certain that the question of my survival—and possibly yours by extension—will arise, and any information the Arkon can provide lessens the chance that you will personally be called to the audience chamber.”