01
Kaylin was late to work for the first time in weeks. Months, maybe. The intense betting pools about her time of arrival had died down to a tiny trickle. Tanner raised a brow as she made her way up the stairs. Clearly they hadn’t completely gone away. That was the expression of a man who was going to lose money.
“Lord Sanabalis is in the West Room,” he said.
Kaylin grimaced. “What day is it today?”
“Magic lesson day. Severn’s queued for your Elani beat after the lesson.” He paused, and then asked, “Midwives’ guild?”
She shook her head. There was no reason she’d slept in; no reason that she’d made her way past the breakfast table—against Helen’s admonitions—and out the door half an hour late. It wasn’t Mrs. Erickson, who was awake, and in whose hands breakfast prep now resided; it wasn’t the visiting gold Dragon.
Something feltoffin her house, and Helen hadn’t seen fit to complain about whatever it was. Kaylin had even asked, once. Helen’s lack of answer made clear that her instincts were right: something was wrong.
Terrano and Mandoran, often at the breakfast table, were notably absent, not that she’d intended to join them. She halfsuspected they were avoiding her. Neither of them was much good at keeping their thoughts to themselves.
If she had another day like this—or two, maybe—she’d have to ask more than once. She knew that if she demanded answers, Helen would have to give them. But if she forced Helen to answer—if she pushed through the barrier of preference and choice—she’d be damaging something important, and she might never be able to repair it.
She paused in the aerie—the towering atrium in which Aerian Hawks practiced their maneuvers. She had, in her earliest years with the Hawks, loved it here. Here, where she could watch and daydream and even yearn at a great enough distance that nothing she could do could break or destroy anything of beauty. She’d once believed that if she’d been born with wings, she’d have freedom.
She knew better now, but some hint of those old dreams lingered.
Hope squawked loudly in her ear. She covered it reflexively.
Back then, she’d had no familiar. She’d had few friends. She’d had very little in the way of responsibility. But she’d had the Marks of the Chosen, even then, and she could feel them almost vibrate.
That’swhat was wrong. It was subtle; they weren’t glowing. But it almost felt as if they were jostling for position against her skin, butting into each other, moving in a flat, unseen frenzy.
Ugh.
Hope bit her hand.
“Sorry. I just didn’t get enough sleep last night.”
Squawk.
“Or the night before. Or the night before that. Okay?”
He huffed and deflated, returning to his shawl position across her shoulders.
“Weallhave days like this.” She wasn’t sure if she was arguing with a winged lizard or talking to herself. Probably both.But: she was late for the first time in a couple of months, and this time she didn’t have an excuse.
The general mood in the office made it clear that people had persisted in betting; not as many as before, when Kaylin’s time of arrival had been far more flexible. But some were annoyed and some were cheerful.
“Are you coming down with something, dear?” Caitlin asked, as Kaylin drifted past her desk.
“I don’t get sick. You know that.”
“There’s a first time for everything.”
“I’m not coming down with anything that I’m aware of. No fever, no coughing, no chills, no anything.”
“And you haven’t been out drinking with the Barrani Hawks?”
“No.” Strictly speaking, this wasmostlytrue. But she hadn’t gone out in the past week.
Caitlin had that mother hen expression Kaylin found so difficult. She liked what it meant. Caitlin was worried for her. Her worry implied affection, even love of a kind. But she hated to be seen as a child that was in need of mothering. It hurt her pride.
You are a child, the condescending voice of Ynpharion said, which didn’t help. It had been weeks since she’d last heard Ynpharion. They’d been busy weeks, but still. The voice of this particular namebound didn’t make her day any brighter.