Cast in Flame. Michelle Sagara

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СКАЧАТЬ starvation, disease, and homelessness. Among other things.”

      A golden brow rose in a distinct arch at Kaylin’s snappish reply. “I touched a nerve.”

      She had. Kaylin’s response was a fief shrug. “It’s not easy being a mortal.” Before Bellusdeo could speak, she added, “It’s not easy being immortal, either. I’m coming to understand that. But our fears aren’t your fears. I think there’s overlap. Anyone, of any race, gets lonely. Anyone, of any race, can feel both grief and loss.

      “But most of our lives aren’t taken up with war and larger-than-life magical conspiracies. We die anyway, no matter what we do. And you won’t. But the lives we live aren’t insignificant to us; if we only have a handful of years, we want them more.”

      “I will not even argue that. Perhaps life is like friendship.”

      Kaylin glanced at her.

      “If you have many, many friends, friendship is a given, a matter of fact. If you have—at most—one or two, it is rare, it is precious. The loss of a friend in that case is shattering because one cannot assume that there will necessarily be others. I did not mean to diminish either your fears or your experience.”

      “...No.” Kaylin exhaled. “I used to think that people like you had it easy.”

      Bellusdeo didn’t seem surprised by this.

      “You’re beautiful. You’re charismatic. You never get old, or fat, you’ve never been plain—or ugly. You don’t get diseases. The cold won’t kill you. You don’t need to sleep. You’re never going to starve. If worse comes to worst, you can hunt. I used to think—when I was a child—that if I were Barrani, I would never, ever have to be afraid.”

      “The Barrani are not without fear.”

      “No, I know that now. Neither are the Dragons—they just fear different things. All the things that terrified me as a child in the fiefs would never have been able to hurt me had I been you or Teela. It didn’t really occur to me that other things could. My life was a desperate, mortal life. Until the marks appeared on half my body.”

      “And yet you do not seem to be comfortable with them.”

      Kaylin grimaced. Honestly, if she didn’t stop doing that, her face would get stuck that way. “A dozen children were killed because these marks existed. Two of them were my family. I’d trade the marks, even now, if I could have them back.

      “But I love my life. I mean, I hate parts of it—don’t get me started on Sergeant Mallory or the idiots who demand nothing but paperwork—but I was helpless when I was that child. I couldn’t have imagined living the life I have now; even escaping the fiefs was a daydream, something that other people did.”

      “What you love about your life now is that you can make a difference?”

      Kaylin’s nod was so instant and emphatic, she should have gotten whiplash.

      “Even if that difference involves total strangers?”

      “It’s why I’m a Hawk.”

      “I will say that the only thing that makes me reconsider my opinion of the Emperor is the Halls of Law. It’s the Hawks, in particular. There are many, many ways he could have approached ruling a city of this size. Or the Empire outside of it. To most of my kin, these laws of yours would be incomprehensible. They were made for mortals, designed for them, and are enforced by them.”

      Teela coughed. Loudly.

      Bellusdeo chuckled. “Mostly enforced by them. In the Aeries of my youth, the suggestion would have been a joke—at best. Only the sentimental, the naive, or the foolish would have dared to suggest it.”

      “So...you think better of the Emperor because he’s sentimental, naive or foolish?”

      Teela coughed again. It was louder. “Do remember, kitling, that you’re likely to be observed, hmm?”

      “It’s a joke.”

      “Yes. And Immortals are famous for their well-developed sense of humor.”

      Mandoran said, in all the wrong tone of voice, “I’m amazed that my kin have consented to be ruled by a Dragon.”

      “And I’m amazed,” Bellusdeo replied, as Kaylin cringed, “that a Dragon has consented to rule Barrani, given the damage they’ve done to our people.”

      Kaylin turned to look over her shoulder; Teela had fixed her with a glare so pointed she should have spontaneously started to bleed. “Good job,” she mouthed, in Elantran.

      Arrogant, annoyed Mandoran was probably better than grieving, morose Mandoran. Probably. On the other hand, arrogant, resentful Bellusdeo?

      * * *

      By the time they returned to the office, Mandoran and Bellusdeo were figuratively bristling; had they been Leontine, it would have been literal. Color had returned to Mandoran’s face, but it wasn’t what Kaylin would consider particularly healthy. Color had mostly left Bellusdeo’s lips, they were compressed so tightly. They had descended—ascended?—to raised voices half a dozen times; Bellusdeo apparently considered the loss of Kaylin’s home and the possible loss of Kaylin’s life almost unforgiveable. Kaylin’s attempt to point out that Mandoran had not in any way been responsible for the Arcane bomb, given he wasn’t even resident in the Empire, fell on selectively deaf ears.

      It would have worked had Mandoran not called the bomb’s lack of success regrettable. The fact that he apologized for the sentiment—to Kaylin—didn’t appear to help much.

      “I take it back.” Teela’s teeth were clenched so tightly it was a miracle she could wedge words between them. “You were definitely less of a concern than Mandoran, even when you were thirteen.”

      This wasn’t much of a surprise to Kaylin. Mandoran was Barrani, after all. “Let’s just never, ever take him drinking, okay?”

      * * *

      The guards—Clint and Tanner—that manned the outer doors of the Hall were on alert. Anyone would be, given that Bellusdeo’s eyes were a shade of orange that could almost be mistaken for red, and Mandoran’s eyes, a blue that could almost be mistaken for black. They didn’t shift much in color as the small party made its way to the office, either.

      Given that three of the four were still damp—which was a charitable description—silence descended on the office, rippling outward as people stared. It was broken by the usual whispers that implied gossip, but even that took longer than usual to start; no one wanted to piss off a Dragon or a Barrani. Well, except other Dragons or Barrani, apparently.

      Marcus’s facial fur—and ears—rose a good two inches as the Hawks made their way toward his desk. “Report,” he demanded, growling on both r’s.

      Kaylin glanced at Teela. Teela was staring at a spot about six inches above the Sergeant’s eyes.

      “We had a bit of a mishap at Evanton’s,” Kaylin said. She tried to keep her voice as quiet as possible.

      “Wonderful. You’re aware that Lord Emmerian is waiting for you in the West Room?”

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