“True. We have some cause.”
The cub nodded. “Do you think the Hawks will arrive in time?”
“I think they might be able to save one of the remaining two witnesses. I asked that the Hawks sent to provide protective custody be Barrani.”
“You trust them?”
“What did I just say? No. But unless they arrive to a cooling corpse, they have the best chance of offering substantive protection.”
“And if they fail?”
“That will give us information as well. Helmat is not pleased. The Hawklord is not pleased. In less than two days you’ve ruffled feathers—and in the case of the Hawklord, that description is literal. There is some chance the Barrani Hawks will have their pride on the line. Avoid bruising Barrani pride where you can.”
Severn nodded. He was, in silence, scanning the streets, his gaze flitting across the heights of buildings. Elluvian did not tell him that this caution was wasted. Caution, unless it devolved into fear, was never wasted.
Ybelline met them at the gate with a group of four Tha’alani guards as escort. She did not wear the flowing robes that were at home in the Tha’alani quarter; she wore, instead, the darker suits occupied by the Imperial Service. That, and the visible antennae, made her look far more intimidating to the mortals in the regular streets.
Elluvian tendered her a perfect bow. He nudged Severn, and Severn did the same, but it had not been his automatic response. Neither man held their bows; she was worthy of respect, not obeisance.
The four Tha’alani guards were green-eyed to a man. Or woman. They said nothing, but their antennae wove frantically in the empty air.
“No,” Ybelline said, her voice gracious, the word unadorned. She spoke it out loud; she meant it to be heard by those who had no access to the Tha’alaan. “I am certain I will be escorted back to the quarter when my work is done.”
The Tha’alani did not condescend to break the surface of their own silence. Common courtesy was not their priority at the moment.
“I am uncertain how long I will be absent,” she replied. “I will inform Scoros when I am done.”
She stepped away from the guards. For one moment, Elluvian wondered if those guards would obey her inaudible commands. They did, but their eyes never lost their deep green.
Elluvian was accustomed to being given a wider berth when he walked Elantran city streets. With Ybelline as companion, however, the streets were all but emptied; people literally pushed themselves up against nearby walls or windows to avoid even touching her shadow.
If he had thought Severn cautious on their walk to the Tha’alani quarter, he reassessed now. The cub was tense and focused. He did not miss an open window—or a closed one, for that matter. Ybelline’s eyes, unlike those of her guards, were hazel. If she did not want to be here, she was not upset about the necessity.
Still, they proceeded in silence toward the Halls of Law, and did not break the silence until they had passed the guards at the door and made their way to the Wolves’ offices.
There, Severn did one quick scan of the interior before he relaxed. He turned to Ybelline and offered her a bow that was suitable for High Lords, if one was a servant. He held that bow until she touched his shoulder.
“You are certain you wish to do this?” she asked, her voice softer, the doubt in it clearer than it had been when she had stood outside of the quarter she would one day rule.
He nodded. His pallor was off, but a rueful grin eased the effect of his color. “I’m sorry,” he said.
“Never say that,” Ybelline replied. “You do what you feel must be done. As do I. A simple apology changes neither fact.” She exhaled. “I have some information to offer from your first request. I have information from your second. The Emperor, however, had to grant his personal permission in the latter case, and the Imperial Service will not be best pleased with Helmat.” She closed her eyes briefly. “I was granted permission, but the Imperial Service bureaucracy is not without spite.”
“You can’t just give me Records access.”
“No. If you wish the information, I must give it to you as if you were a criminal.”
Severn said, “I probably am—I’ve just been lucky enough not to be caught.” He didn’t even look surprised.
“Is there an office we can use for the duration of the interview?”
Elluvian said, “You may use mine. It is seldom used; I dislike the enclosed space.”
Ybelline entered Elluvian’s office first; Severn followed her.
“Wait one minute,” a familiar—and annoyed—voice said. Severn considered closing the door anyway, but the voice was the Wolflord’s. He therefore held it open as Lord Marlin stopped in its frame.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded. The question was aimed in its entirety at Ybelline.