“What? Am I saying something rude?”
“No,” Bellusdeo answered. “It’s not rude. I wouldn’t advise that you ask that of any of the Barrani—or most mortals over a certain age—that you meet. For some reason I do not understand, they frequently take it poorly.”
“And you don’t.”
“No. But for Dragons, sizeispower.”
“The outcaste,” Teela said in a cooler voice, “is very unlikely to be present.”
Bellusdeo did not reply.
* * *
A Dragon and a dozen out-of-uniform Aerians rose from the carriage yard into the open skies. Beneath her feet, Kaylin could see the people in the streets below as they looked up, and up again; several pointed. Not all of the people were aware of what was going on above their heads, but that was understandable; when Kaylin wasn’t on duty, she sometimes forgot to look at anything higher than her shoes.
“Are we ready for this?” she asked Teela, shouting to be heard.
“I am.”
“You’re enjoying it.”
“I’m not bored.”
“Boredom is underrated,” Tain told her. “I’ve only come to realize it in the last year. I could do with another two decades of quiet before I found it boring.”
“I don’t like the quiet,” Teela replied. “I can be quiet when I’m dead.”
“Which is going to be sooner rather than later at the rate Kaylin’s been going.”
This was hugely unfair. This situation had nothing to do with Kaylin. Not directly.Why is it always my fault? she asked Severn.
She could feel his amusement, his affection.It isn’t, of course.
Then why do they always blame me?
It’s like the conversation after dinner the night the Emperor visited. You’re safe to tease, and it gives them something in common. All of your friends in the office have always teased you.
Caitlin doesn’t.
No, but she’s more like a substitute mother. Imagine what Teela would be like if she didn’t.
Teela as a mother filled Kaylin with instant dread.You win.She fell silent as the Aerie came into view.
* * *
From the ground, the Southern Reach looked like a lot of fancy cliff side. Up close—and Kaylin had been a visitor on a handful of occasions, most in her early years at the outskirts of the Hawks—it was more complicated. There were caves, and the caves were natural; she wasn’t certain how they’d come to exist, but didn’t question it. She didn’t really question why there was ground beneath her feet when she patrolled, either.
But the caves had been worked, the way rough stone was; some of the working had been magical in nature. She could see the muted colors of faded sigils. The Reach was divided into social tiers by both centrality and height. The more important your flight, the higher up the cliff face you lived, the single exceptions being the outlying caves, which were almost entirely natural.
Those had been Moran’s early home.
The rooms that Helen had provided for Moran had been very much like that early home. Kaylin imagined what Clint’s reaction to seeing them would be, and snickered. If he now considered Moranpraevolo, he’d probably find them insulting or inappropriate.
Or maybe not. Maybe he’d understand that it was where Moran felt most at home. She hadn’t really had a home for a long time.
To no one’s surprise—or at least not to Kaylin’s—the Aerian they were to meet had either residential or meeting rooms at the peak of the Southern Reach. At this height, winged guards patrolled the skies; two of them, armed, headed out to intercept Bellusdeo. When they drew close enough, Kaylin could see that their eyes were Barrani blue—and no surprise there, either. Aerians against a Dragon had about as much chance as an untrained human against a Barrani or Leontine.
These guards were trained, however. They flew maneuvers that were tight, they kept a respectful distance, and they stayed in their patrolling formation.