The Dragon glinted red as he nodded. He didn’t return to the air or his own fief, but he didn’t cross the almost invisible line that marked the edge of the border zone, either. Then again, his breath had range. Kaylin’s daggers—or Severn’s weapon—lacked that.
Together, the two Hawks walked toward the building Severn had indicated from the air. One wall was a blackened mess; stones—for it was a stone building—had cracked and fallen, both outward and inward. She passed over headless bodies, choosing a path that wasn’t littered with the dying. Dying Barrani could still take out two human Hawks if that was their intent.
She counted twelve bodies. She wanted to sprint ahead, but training overtook impulse.Ynpharion, what’s the smallest unit of a Barrani war band? What are the numbers?
Between twelve and fifteen, historically.
Twelve to fifteen. She counted twelve and glanced at Severn.
“It’s a war band,” he said, hearing the question she hadn’t put into words. Maybe hearing the question that followed—how do you knowthis?—but ignoring it for now.
Barrani played games of politics—their polite word for assassination—but this was different. There was no subtlety in it. Someone had sent awar bandinto Nightshade.
They could not afford subtlety if they intended to remove Nightshade, Ynpharion said. His interior tone had sharpened, not in his usual condescension, but almost in earnest.
Do you recognize any of the dead?
No.
Does the Consort?
She is our Lady.This meant yes. Ynpharion’s next question made clear that the Consort was far less concerned with the war band.Can you sense Nightshade?
Kaylin frowned.I’m not certain. I think—I think he’s in the ruins of that building. It would be a better place to deal with greater numbers of assailants, but a worse place to use his sword—it’s too large, and buildings this size weren’t meant for all-out combat. Not that way.
The sword, Ynpharion said in the same urgent tone,was not the only reason he was feared.
Severn tapped her shoulder, as if aware of her ongoing conversation with Ynpharion. He probably was.I want to enter the building first—I have some protection against magic.
I have Hope.She poked the familiar. Hope sat up. His eyes were wide open, his head scanning the streets.
“Wing,” she told him.
Hope lifted a wing and placed it across only one of her eyes. He didn’t even smack her with it, which meant he knew it was serious. She had seen the bodies of the Barrani only when she landed. If a spell of concealment had been cast, it was large enough to cover the whole of the building and the streets surrounding it. The magic that had been invoked seemed to be a barrier of some kind—a way of keeping the immediate battle from being noticed by anyone not involved in it.
The rest of the smoking building looked normal from the wing-eye view.Has my cheek stopped bleeding?
Severn nodded.The mark is still there.
Would it vanish if he were dead?
I don’t know. If I had to guess, I’d say yes.
There had been whole years when she wished Nightshade dead. Years in the streets of his poorly ruled, neglected fief. Years. Sometimes, though, she didn’t think about him at all. She was an orphan, protected by another orphan; there was no reason she’d ever cross even his shadow.
There are worse fieflords.
There are way better fieflords, Kaylin shot back. Severn had never resented Nightshade—person or fief—as much as she had.
Although she had Hope, she let Severn move a yard or two in front; Hope was scanning the streets, as was she. The windows of buildings across from this one seemed closed; she caught no glimpse of assassins there.
The door that Severn approached had been blown off one ofits hinges and listed in the blackened frame. Given the state of the walls, the door should have been destroyed.
Severn stationed himself on the hinge side of the doorframe.
Have you found him?Ynpharion’s voice was sharper. Too sharp.
Kind of busy right now.Kaylin matched his tone.