Page 15 of Cast in Conflict

“No thanks.”

“And you can stop me, how?”

“Helen can stop you.”

“Not permanently, and you know you’re just going to piss off Sedarias. Look, I like the Dragon. I shouldn’t, but I do. She’s not unlike us, except for the scales and the fiery breath. I hate to be serious, and if I am, it’s entirely on you—but she’s not happy here, and if fighting Shadows and constantly risking her life is what makes her happy, who am I to argue? But I don’t intend to be one of her targets. If you decide to accept this job—”

“It’s not a job. It’s a command.”

“Fine. If you decide to obey this command, one of us should go with you.”

“Sedarias just wants to know what’s going on.”

“And your point is?”

“Fine.”

Mandoran shrugged. “One of us is going. You’d rather it was Annarion?”

“Why are those the only choices?”

“Yeah,” Terrano said. “Why only you two?”

Kaylin had a headache, probably because she was clenching her jaw. “You win,” she said. “But don’t tell me anything else. I’d like at least a smidgen of plausible deniability.”

When Kaylin arrived at the office the next morning, she was surprised there was still a working door, because Marcus was glaring at it, fangs exposed, when she stepped over the threshold. To be fair, he said she’d done nothing wrong, but she was clearly at the center of whatever it was he found nearly enraging.

She wasn’t terribly surprised when he sent her, without comment, up the tower at the Hawklord’s request. Severn joined her before she reached the stairs.

“Did Marcus tell you what the Hawklord wanted?”

“No, but from your expression, you’ve probably got a decent guess.”

She nodded. “I’m being seconded to the Imperial Palace. Sort of.”

“Seconded to who?”

“Technically? You know, I’m not sure. Emmerian, probably. He was the one who made the request.”

“Lord Emmerian, if we’re speaking of technicalities—which we will be, when we enter the Hawklord’s tower.”

“Fine. Lord Emmerian asked.”

“What did he ask of you?”

She shrugged. “He wants me to tail Bellusdeo and Maggaron.”

Had they not been climbing stairs, Severn would have stopped to stare at her; as it was, she felt the edge of both surprise and concern, although neither were voiced.

“I don’t know what he’s said to the Hawklord, but I guess we’re about to find out.”

03

Severn was kind enough to place his palm over the door ward of the very closed doors. The Hawklord, who knew Kaylin’s allergy to wards—or their allergy to her—frequently left those doors open when he summoned her to the tower. That they weren’t open wasn’t a confirmation of his mood, but it was a sign that he was either heavily distracted or displeased.

No one wanted their boss to be pissed off at them, but Kaylin forced all signs of anxiety off her face. Her arms and shoulders were probably stiffer than normal, but...he was the Hawklord. She wasn’t, as a corporal, expected to be entirely relaxed in his presence.

The doors rolled open; the Hawklord stood to one side of his large, freestanding oval mirror. It didn’t reflect him. In the mirror, she could clearly see Lord Sanabalis. Which was better, she supposed, than Lord Diarmat.

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