Cast in Chaos. Michelle Sagara

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СКАЧАТЬ that this was not a good thing in the opinion of Master Sabrai.

      “It is seldom that his large canvases are used for trivial affairs, but it does happen. The very large image of Lord Sanabalis might be considered one such event.”

      That image, as Master Sabrai called it, occupied the wall directly opposite the door. It was the largest painting in the room, and as Kaylin wasn’t much of an artist, one of the largest she’d seen. The Halls of Law did boast some sculpture and some tapestry, but it was mostly for show, and therefore tucked away where only important visitors could see it.

      “He will work until he’s done,” Master Sabrai added. “Inform Lord Sanabalis when you report to him. He has always expressed a clear interest in Everly’s work.” He paused and then added, “If you wish to remain, Private, you may remain to observe.”

      She watched Everly for another fifteen minutes, and then said, “We’ll come by tomorrow or the day after.”

      It was raining when they left the Oracular Halls. Master Sabrai was kind enough to hand them the transcriptions of the other possible Oracles, and he was foresightful enough to mention that anything discovered while under the auspices of the Imperial Court, however indirectly, could be legally discussed only with members of said Court.

      Then again, foresight—for a definition of foresight that included garbled confusion and mute painters—was his specialty, so it didn’t come as much of a surprise. The carriage was still waiting, the horses looked a little more bedraggled, and the streets had half emptied, which at this time of day—closing in on sunset—was about as much as you could hope for this side of the Ablayne.

      But as they drove toward the Imperial Palace, the rain changed. Kaylin thought at first it had just gotten heavier, because visibility plummeted sharply as they turned a corner. This pleasant bit of mundane wrongheadedness didn’t last, in part because the street around the carriage suddenly got a whole lot louder. People were shouting, screaming, and running for cover—not all at once, and not necessarily in that order.

      She glanced at Severn; Severn had already unlatched the door on his side of the carriage by the time the carriage rolled to a halt. The streets weren’t empty enough to negotiate while people were running all over the place in blind panic.

      Kaylin stepped into the rain and immediately understood why people were screaming.

      It was raining blood.

      Blood this watery and this red was usually warm; the rain was no exception. The clouds that were shedding it looked like normal green-gray storm clouds; there was no lightning and no thunder. Given the nature of what there was, on the other hand, the lack was probably a blessing in disguise.

      It was the only one they were likely to get.

      Kaylin headed straight for an actual store, tried hard not to drip on the bolts of cloth that seemed to take up most of its available space, and borrowed a mirror. She let Severn talk the establishment’s occupants down from the ceiling, because frankly, he was better at it.

      The mirror rippled, losing her reflection—and gaining, sadly, a sticky, wet palm print, which, given the cost of the mirror, was going to cause ructions—and Caitlin’s face swam into view, solidifying after a few seconds. Her usually calm expression stiffened instantly, and her eyes widened.

      “No, no—it’s fine, Caitlin. The blood’s not mine.” Realizing that this would not, in fact, calm the office mother down, she added, “We’re having a bit of trouble down on Lattimar road, near Gorran, and we need Swords out here. Now. Can you get Marcus?”

      The image froze on silence. When it began to move again, Caitlin said, “You’re not the only place that’s having trouble, dear.” At least she looked less shocked about the blood. Her image froze again. Kaylin waited until it started moving and said, “How large an area is this rain falling in?”

      “A large one, dear. Sergeant Kassan is here.”

      Ironjaw’s eyes were orange, and he was bristling. He was not, however, angry at Kaylin, and even if he were, she was well out of reach. “You said you were at Lattimar and Gorran?”

      She nodded. “It was at Lattimar and Gorran that the rain went…strange, sir.”

      “Get your butt back outside and see whether or not there’s a clear line of so-called strange.”

      “People are running around screaming in total panic.”

      Eyebrows rose; the tufts of Leontine ears were standing on end. “The Swords are already out in the streets, Private. It’s covered. Now get out there and get me some useful information.”

      There was a clear line of so-called strange, a point at which blood gave way to water. It wasn’t instant, but the blur between the two could be seen both on the ground and in the air itself. They had followed Lattimar past Gorran, heading toward the wall, and when they found the five yards of blur, Kaylin actually muttered what she hoped sounded like thanks to any possible deity who might be eavesdropping.

      It was wet, and the rain was cold; the blood-rain wasn’t, but in this case, Kaylin was willing to settle for cold. While the rain lasted, Kaylin and Severn followed its line, and marked the streets where clear water gave way to red fluid. Neither of them had the means to take more than a very small sample of this altered rain, if you didn’t count what could be wrung out of their clothing.

      They didn’t manage to trace the periphery of the area, which seemed to be roughly circular in shape, before the rain petered out. It was perhaps the only time she could think of that she cursed lack of rain—and in two languages, at that. But they’d circled a large enough part of the city, sans carriage, before they made their way back to the Halls.

      There were guards at the doors, which wasn’t unusual—even in the midnight hours, these doors were manned. But these guards had clearly not only seen the effects of the rain; they’d also been standing in it. They didn’t even lift a brow at the reddened mess that was Kaylin’s clothing. Nor did they engage in anything like small talk; they were silent in that grim, worried way, and they waved both Hawks through the unlocked doors.

      The Aerie was as crowded as it was during training maneuvers, and Kaylin glimpsed familiar wings in the artificial light that radiated down from the heights. Aerian shadows looked a lot like giant fish against the stone floors, and she watched them—briefly—before Severn tapped her shoulder.

      “Sorry,” she told him, as she picked up her walking speed.

      The office was not, as one would expect at this time of the day, empty. But the foul temper the orders from on high had caused had dissipated the way it always did when there was a distinct and obvious emergency. If people weren’t thrilled to be there—and judging from some expressions, they weren’t—they were awake and focused.

      They were all also, almost to a man—and one shockingly matted Leontine—in various shades of red. Patches of dried blood lay across the office floor, making a visible track between desks and mirrors; it looked as if Marcus had gone berserk.

      “Private!”

      Speaking of berserk… Kaylin headed straight to the Sergeant’s desk, and stood at attention, which was hard because he looked like a drowned cat. But huge. “Reporting in, Sir.”

      “Well?”

      “We СКАЧАТЬ