Michelle Sagara - Cast In Courtlight

But she wanted to.

He reached into the folds of his robes; you could have hidden whole bodies in it. And bodies might have been preferable to paper, which was what he pulled out. It hit the table with an authoritative thud.

“You will, of course, be familiar with much of what these documents contain. These,” he added, lifting a half inch’s worth, “are your academic transcripts. With annotations.”

“You’re not supposed to have those—even I don’t have access to—”

“As a man who is considering accepting you as a pupil, I have, of course, obtained permission to access these.”

“Oh.” She hesitated and then added, “What do they say?” “You tell me.”

This wasn’t going the way the previous lessons had. So far, he’d failed to make mention of her “unfortunate beginnings.” Which meant he’d also failed to offend her.

“I’m waiting, Kaylin.”

“Probably … that I’m not very good at classroom work. Academic work, I think they call it.”

He raised a brow. “That was a very short sentence for this much writing.”

“They’re clever, they can say the same thing over and over without using the same word twice.”

At that, he did smile.

Oh, what the hell. “I’m not fond of authority.” “Good.”

“I’m not fond of sitting still.” “True, as well.” “I get bored easily.”

“I believe the phrase was ‘dangerous levels of boredom.’” “I’m not great with numbers.”

“You manage an argument over your pay chit at least once a month.”

“Oh, well, money’s different.” She frowned. “They said that?”

“No. That was private investigation on my part.” “I’m a bit brusque.” “‘Actively rude.’” “I’m blunt.”

“'Arrogant and misinformed.’” “I’m a bit on the, um, assertive side.” “I think the previous statement covered that, as well.” He put the papers down. “The rest?” “Variations?”

“Not precisely.” He leaned forward on elbows he placed, with care, to either side of the documents in question. “You are, according to the teachers who failed you, frustratingly bright. One even used the word precocious. But you have no focus, no ability to pay attention to anything that doesn’t suit you. Would you say that’s fair?”

“No.”

“What would you say, Kaylin?”

“I want to be out there. I want to be on the beat. I want to be doing something. I didn’t sign up with the Hawks to sit still while other people risk their lives—”

He lifted a hand. “I believe that this was also covered. And quoted. At length. Don’t feel a need to revisit it on my behalf. You did manage to learn to read. And to write. In two languages.”

“I had to,” she said woodenly. “The Hawklord—” He raised a white brow.

“Lord Grammayre,” she said, correcting herself, “said I was out if I couldn’t manage that. Because the Laws are written in Barrani—High Barrani—and if I didn’t know them, I couldn’t enforce them.”

“‘Represent them’ were the words he used, I believe. You learned to use weapons.”

She nodded.

“And you were skilled at unarmed combat.”

She nodded again. “Those were useful.”

“History does have its uses.”

“To dead people,” she said sullenly.

“Living people define themselves by their dead.”

She said nothing.

“You almost passed comparative religion. You paid very little attention to Racial classes.” More nothing.

“Very well. Your teachers—Hawks, all—were of a mind to allow you to stretch your wings on the streets. I believe they thought it would knock sense into you.”

“You didn’t come here to discuss my academic record.”

“Actually, Kaylin, I did. I assure you I seldom discuss things that are not of interest to me. That would be called politics,” he added. “And I see that you—”

“Failed that, yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not going anywhere political. If you’ve read the records you know I’m a fiefling. I grew up there. I lived there. I probably broke a hundred laws without knowing I was doing anything illegal.” She had folded her arms across her chest, and she now tightened them. “I was born to the streets. I know them.”

“The streets of Elantra are not the streets of Nightshade. I’m certain your other teachers were willing to accept this rant at face value. Do better with me, Kaylin. I’m old enough to value my time.”

She stood up and started to pace.

“Don’t cling to your ignorance.”

“I’m not.”

“Don’t hide behind it, either.”

“I’m not hiding. Yes, the rest of Elantra is different. But people with power are the same everywhere—here they just have to be more clever about breaking the law. I’m not good with people who are above the law.”

“Or beneath it?”

“No, I understand them.”

“You’ve been willing to learn many things,” he continued, failing to notice that she’d left her seat. “You spent four weeks—without pay—at the midwives guild.”

She stopped moving.

“I told you, I do my homework. You also, I believe, spend time at the foundling halls—”

“Leave the foundling halls out of this.”

“—teaching the orphans. To read. To write. You could barely stand to do this yourself, and I cannot think that this is an overt display of aggression. How, then, do you explain it?”

“I don’t.”

He nodded, as if the answer wasn’t surprising. “Very well. Let us change the course of this discussion somewhat.” “Let’s not.”

He raised a brow over golden eyes. So far, she’d failed to annoy him; there wasn’t even a hint of orange in them.

“I am aware that teaching or learning are not the only things you do, at either the midwives guild or the foundling halls.” He raised a hand. “I am advisor to the Emperor, Kaylin. I am aware of the power you do possess. Sadly, so are the rest of the Hawks. Secrecy is not a skill you’ve learned.”

“Emergencies don’t lend themselves to secrecy.”

“True. Power does. Do you understand that you have power?”

She hesitated; the ground beneath her feet was shifting, and in ways that she didn’t like. She thought better of her need to leave the confinement of the damn chair, and sat again, hard.

“Yes,” he said softly, the tone of his voice changing. “I know what you bear on your arms and legs. I’ve seen the records. I’ve even examined them. I know that you’ve healed the dying, on many occasions. But I also know—”

She held up a hand, palm out, and turned away.

He was a Dragon, through and through. “I also know that you’ve used that power to kill. To kill quickly, yes, but also to kill slowly and painfully. I understand that the Imperial Order of Mages can at times be insular. I understand that their insularity feels like condescension. I will not even argue that it is anything else, in your case.

“But you are playing games with something that you don’t understand.”

“You don’t understand it either.”

“No,” he said without pause. “And it is because it is not understood that it is feared. You’ve treated this as a game, Kaylin Neya. The time for games has passed.” His eyes were still gold, but his lower lids rose, lending opacity to the clarity of color.

“The Dragon Emperor is well aware of what you faced in the fief of Nightshade. We do not name the outcaste, and because we do not, I do not believe it has occurred to the Emperor—or his Court—that you can.”