well. Before you ask, no, I do not know the specifics. I am not Hallionne. I have access to the Hallionne in a fashion, because I am Keeper, but the language of the Hallionne is notoriously difficult to learn, let alone master. Were I Barrani, or High Barrani, I do not think it would be this difficult; I am not. Nor is Grethan.
“The Hallionne Alsanis was altered by the children who were themselves altered by the green. This will likely make their passage through the portal paths safer for them. It will make any presence in Hallionne other than their own more difficult. I do not think the changes they made were made immediately. I am less certain that they were made unintentionally. I am not,” he added, at some twitch of Kaylin’s expression, “blaming them; it serves no point. They were captives, they were children, and they desired freedom.
“It is possible, however, that their sense of what ‘home’ is or means is radically different from your own. They were captives for far, far longer than they were Barrani children. Helen can create living quarters for Annarion. She is therefore confident that she can create those same quarters for the rest of Teela’s friends. She was, if I understand her history correctly, equivalent to the Towers that guard the borders of the fiefs, but the commands at her core were not the same.
“Discuss this with Teela. She will better understand the dangers.” He looked at the cooling tea. “What did happen this morning?”
Kaylin explained. She left out names, with the exception of Teela’s. Severn’s expression made clear that he didn’t think this was an appropriate discussion to have outside of the Halls, but he didn’t actively try to shut her down.
Evanton looked vastly less pleased when she’d finished. “I am almost sorry I asked,” he said, pushing himself up from his chair. “But politics are entirely political. Meaning they are not my problem.”
“Neither is my home,” Kaylin pointed out.
“If things go awry in your home, it could well become my problem, and I would like to avoid that. I am old, Kaylin. In the past decade I have seen more threats and upheavals than in the previous century, with one or two notable exceptions, neither of which can be blamed on you.”
“None of them can be blamed on me!”
“Grethan!”
Evanton’s apprentice appeared before the last loud syllable had died out. The familiar on his shoulder sighed and squawked before leaping off to land at his home base, Kaylin’s shoulder.
Evanton headed out the door into the rickety hall that led to the Keeper’s Garden. He turned in the door frame. “Understand,” he said softly, “that the world and the Keeper will almost certainly continue to exist if there are no people in it. My job is not actually to choose sides. The elements are adversely affected by Shadow, but not in the same fashion as we are. My job, such as it is, is to stop the elements from destroying the world in their attempts to destroy each other. There are no Shadows in my garden. Do you understand?”
Kaylin nodded.
“I am the Keeper. My power, where it exists, exists because of that. I am, however, partial to people in general. The location of the garden does not change, and I would rather have the occasionally irritating company—”
“Most people call them customers, in this part of town.”
“—than not. I understand what exists beneath the High Halls. Where I can, I will aid you, as I have always done. But the political—and yes, when we speak of politics with the Barrani it inevitably defaults to assassination or war—is not my arena.”
“It’s not mine, either.”
“Not yet. It will be. I’m sorry.”
“If I’m forced to enter that arena, will I have to be diplomatic?”
“Only if your commanding officers drop dead and someone who has never had to work anywhere near you is then put in charge.”
* * *
The first thing Kaylin did when they returned to the office from their shortened Elani patrol was stop by the duty roster to see if the Barrani were once again being assigned their regular patrols. The second was to visit the infirmary. Teela was no longer there.
Moran, however, was, and the long day hadn’t improved her temper any. The sergeant was glaring at a small mirror. If looks could kill, that mirror wouldn’t be in pieces—it would be melted glass with little rivulets of silver in it.
“Go home.”
“Moran—”
“I mean it.”
“Has anyone else come to visit your Barrani patient?”
“No one has been permitted to visit, with the exception of Teela.” Moran turned away from the mirror to face Kaylin directly. “Given how successful I was at getting you to ignore the politics of my entirely personal situation, I am not going to waste breath telling you to ignore hers. But kitling? I wouldn’t have broken your arms or legs.”
“Teela won’t—”
“No, she probably won’t. Being a Hawk has been a lark for the Barrani—or at least that’s the impression they’ve always given. It’s the reason that most of the nonpatrolling Hawks find it hard to work with them.”
Kaylin nodded again.
“It is not a lark at the moment. Teela may take a leave of absence when things get truly tense.”
Kaylin did not ask how assassination attempts in the Halls failed to qualify as truly tense. “At the Hawklord’s request?”
“No. The Barrani wear the tabard. He would not ask them to leave the office; it would send the wrong signals.”
Kaylin blinked.
“Having Barrani Hawks on the force give the Barrani an accessible public face. People are often terrified of the Barrani.”
“People are sometimes terrified of the Hawks. But most of those are criminals.”
“Most yes, but not all. Having Barrani on the street and wearing the Hawk makes them a little less frightening.” She was silent for a beat. “But surely you already know this.”
Did she?
She’d been a Hawk for seven years, unofficially. The Hawk had never terrified her the way Barrani in Nightshade had. It had never terrified her the way the howls of hunting Ferals did. It had never terrified her the way the cold did, the way hunger did. But the warrens were as close to the fiefs as anyplace inside the city could be—and if she’d been born there, and the warrens were her home?
Would she love the Hawk then? Would she be unafraid of it?
Fear of the Barrani made sense to Kaylin. Outside of the Law, they could kill most mortals on a whim. Barrani against Leontine was not as sure a thing.
“I don’t know,” she finally said. “There wasn’t a lot of difference for us between Shadows and Barrani when I was a kid. And if I’m being honest, most mortals of my acquaintance I tried real hard to avoid as well. You don’t understand what it’s like. If I met me from back then—”
“Yes?”
“I wouldn’t have given me a chance if I didn’t want my throat slit.”
Bellusdeo exhaled and moved to stand beside Kaylin. Moran’s glare did not—had never, apparently—included the gold Dragon. “It’s so hard to have productive discussions with you,” she said, but fondly. “Most men—most Barrani, most Dragons—when forced into the space you are standing in now might deflect. They might, if pressed in an unavoidable way, justify. They might give excuses—ah, pardon, I believe they would call them explanations.”
Kaylin shrugged. “Look, I’m not proud of what I once did.”
“No.”
“But I understand why