He appeared to watch out of concern; he seemed to relax, marginally, after he had been tailing them for a while, as if he desired the simple sight of An’Teela’s young companion. It was An’Teela he didn’t trust. But Elluvian understood, watching the unpredictable Lord of the High Court, that she meant Kaylin no harm. Would allow no harm to be done to her.
The boy’s understanding of that truth appeared to take longer, but it did settle. He followed less frequently, but he would appear in the crowded flow of mortals from time to time.
Today was no different.
Ah, no. Today wouldbedifferent. The Wolves had need of a recruit, and the youth had shown skill at both eluding detection and following his quarry, sight unseen. Certainly, on a different field, he would not have escaped An’Teela’s notice, but he was one of a dozen mortals—or more—in the immediate vicinity.
In his condition, age was hard to estimate; he might be younger and worn by life on the streets, or older. He had some basic skills that Mellianne had once lacked, but the rest? Elluvian was uncertain. Eight decades past, he might have been irked to be forced, yet again, to start over, but he was now resigned to it. Even had he been completely successful in his choices those decades past, he would still be required to start over. And over. And over. Mortals did not last.
He was drawn from his thoughts and deliberations by a mortal shout; it was not the type of cry that surprise or panic raised. Inebriation, yes. The poor fool appeared to be attempting to pick a fight with the Hawks. The streets did not empty, but the flow of traffic changed almost instantly: passersby both slowed and moved to the sides of the street. The drunk man did not appear to notice.
Ah, no, he had. “What are you looking at? Hey!”
His belligerence caused the people observing to compress further, but they did not feel threatened. Hawks were in the street. There was only so much damage this angry, drunk man could do before the Hawks intervened. And given that the Hawks appeared to be his target, they felt safe enough watching the drama unfold, as if it were a play performed for their entertainment. If they were wrong, they would pay; Elluvian did not feel any responsibility for the consequence of their choices.
What drew his attention was An’Teela. She ordered Kaylin, by name, tostay out of it. The girl had apparently managed not to hear the words—and it was possible, given her expression, that this was genuine, if appalling. An’Teela, however, did something extraordinary.
She dropped the flat of her palm across the top of the mortal girl’s head. An’Teela’s companion moved in to deal with the fool who wished to aggravate the Hawks, as if their tabard gave the drunkard immunity to Barrani.
Elluvian turned his attention to the young man he had been observing. A knife flashed in the youth’s hand; the whole of his body tensed as he bent into his knees. His eyes scanned the crowd, flicking from side to side; they returned, always, to the girl.
Elluvian managed to reach the youth’s side before the boy could—as it appeared he intended—move toward the mortal girl currently restrained by the Barrani Hawk. It was not as simple as it should have been; the boy was quick—he made use of any possible opening in a crowd through which a certain stillness had expanded, like rings in liquid will when a stone is dropped through its surface. He did not pause or stop but looked now for the advantage that the crowd might give.
Elluvian caught the boy’s knife wrist, but in order to do so, he had to step into, step through, the shadows cast by the unfortunately high sun. The tiny, tiny ripple of magic its use caused would have been beneath the notice of most of his kin. Most of his kin, however, were not An’Teela, and she froze instantly.
“Kaylin.”
Something in her tone—the word was softer and shorn entirely of expression—finally caused the girl to freeze. An’Teela lifted the hand that held the girl more or less in place and turned to scan the crowd while her partner dealt with the much noisier, much uglier mortal foolish enough—or drunk enough—to tangle with Barrani.
Elluvian held his position, but his grip around the young man’s knife wrist tightened. He was not terribly surprised to see a second knife join the first—the second knife, now wielded in the free hand. “Unwise, boy. I am unarmed, and you now carry two knives. Should you attempt to use one to injure me, you will—of course—fail to do so. In order to preserve your life, I will be forced to break one, or both, of your arms. It will, given the presence of two weapons, both yours, be entirely legal.
“I wish to speak with you. If you attempt to stab me and flee, I will break one of your legs. Anger me further, and I will break it in such a way that your future mobility is not guaranteed. Do you understand?”
The young man sheathed the left-hand dagger without apparent effort. But his eyes flicked, once again, to the mortal and her two Barrani companions.
“You are concerned about the mortal girl that An’Teela calls Kaylin?”
The boy’s arm tensed once again.
He did not answer. Would not, Elluvian thought. This was a different type of rebellion. Against his better judgment, he found himself saying, “You do not understand what you have seen. That Hawk is An’Teela. Your mortal quarry ignored the first command An’Teela uttered—and among our kin, there would be no second command. If An’Teela not only accepted insubordination, but also condescended to touch—without intent to harm—the mortal girl, that girl is safe. She is safe from anything that would be incapable ofquicklykilling An’Teela and her companion.
“And boy, An’Teela is among our best. There is very, very little that could threaten that child at the moment. And you, with your mortal dagger, are not among those things. Who is that girl to you?”
He again failed to answer; merely looked down the bridge of his nose to the place where their two arms were joined. “I wish to speak with you,” Elluvian said again.
“About?”
“I have no interest in the child. It was not the girl I was following.”
“It wasn’t the Hawks, either.”
“You are observant. Good. The Hawks, at the moment, are irrelevant to me. The girl would have been beneath notice.”
“What do you want?” The young man waited.
Elluvian smiled. He released the young man’s wrist. The young man remained stationary; he met, and held, Elluvian’s gaze. The altercation that had caused the Hawks to pause had apparently ended; foot traffic once again resumed. So, too, the more cumbersome traffic of wagons, carts, carriages.
“I am considering offering you employ. I am, however, undecided.”