Cast In Secret (14 page)

“Not really. I like Evanton. Evanton likes me. Well, he bites my head off less than other people when
I
ask him questions he considers stupid.”

“What questions would those be?”

“Any questions at all.”

“Since Evanton is easily offended, Sergeant Kassan thought there was little risk in sending you to handle the investigation. Very well. Pardon my intrusion and continue with your story.”

“I – The water was deep.”

“Deeper by far than you can imagine, Kaylin.”

“I couldn’t see the bottom.”

“That
is
what I just said.”

“But I could see the surface clearly. The water there is very still, even though the breeze is strong. And yes, I’m not an idiot. I understand that the air and the water do not mix in that place.

“I saw – I thought it was my reflection, at first.”

“And he did not stop you from approaching the water?”

“No – there were footprints in the moss bed that led to the edge of that pool. I followed them there.”

At this, Lord Nightshade stilled, as if he had received his first real surprise of the day.

“Not Evanton’s.”

“No. We wouldn’t have been called for otherwise.”

“How many?”

“This is official business – ” she began.

“And the information you require of me is for official business, as well. That is the way of the Law, to ask for the aid of those who understand its underside. You bribe people,” he added. “And each of us, in our fashion, is susceptible to bribery.”

The problem was that it
wasn’t
official. But she’d be damned if she now admitted this. “All right, but the people we often ask for information are trying their best to stay out of the Hawks’ eye. You – ”

“Yes. I rule here, Law or no.”

“But if you – ”

“You are my
Erenne,
” he told her softly. “And you will give new meaning to that word, in time. New meaning, and old.”

She forgot what she had been about to say; the tone of his voice was almost intimate, and it traveled the length of her spine, making her stiffen, causing her hands to draw in toward her lap, in easy reach of her daggers.

Not that they would do much good.

“What you do, however, is private, now. No information will be given, Kaylin, to anyone. What you know and what I know are no longer separate, and I will not weaken my house.”

She nodded, her mouth dry. She took a gulp of liquid to wet her lips and wine burned its way down her throat, causing her to cough. A lot. All in all, it hadn’t been her most dignified day.

“I saw the face – the bruised face – of a girl who was maybe ten. Possibly twelve. It was hard to tell. She wasn’t standing in a lot of light.”

“And you remember her face clearly?”

“Completely clearly.”

“What did she say?”

She started to play that game, to ask him,
Who said she said anything?
But she couldn’t play games here, not with this man. “My name,” she whispered. “I think she was asking for help.”

“Where was she?”

“I couldn’t see. Believe that I tried.”

“How long did you have?”

“Long enough for a Hawk.”

He nodded. “It is interesting that you went to the water, or that the visitors that Evanton did not himself lead into the garden also went there.”

“Why? Sanabalis – Lord Sanabalis – asked me about my interest in water, as well.”

“Because there are portents,” he told her. “As Lord Sanabalis must have told you. In the Oraculum. And elsewhere.”

“End of the world portents.”

“Something close.”

“I have to find that girl.”

“That is my belief, yes.”

“I mean – ”

“I understand what you meant. But she is not the only missing child you must find. I cannot say for certain that Grethan took the child. It is not an act that I would have considered within his capabilities. But I can tell you where Grethan went before he returned to the enclave.”

“Was it across the bridge?” she asked.

“Yes, Kaylin. It was not within the fiefs. Very few of the wise here – and they exist, but hidden – would risk the journey from one fief to the lord of another.”

“Give me a name,” she said briskly. “Um, and a race.”

“He is human,” Lord Nightshade replied carefully. “And he is a member of the Arcanum.”

Kaylin wilted visibly, although the Castle itself did not seem to be affected by the heat of the sun and the humidity that the ocean cast across the city.

“I will write it down for you,” he added.

“Why?”

“Because he is careful, and because speaking his name can act as a summons.”

“To you?”

“Indeed.”

I loathe magic.

Then you loathe yourself, Kaylin.

Something Severn had also said. She took the paper he offered, wondering where it had come from.

“I will see you soon,” he told her quietly.

“I don’t – ”

“You will be back.” It wasn’t an order, and it wasn’t a request. It was a simple statement of fact.

And she couldn’t deny it.

She didn’t hurry out, but she didn’t linger; he escorted her to the portal that was, as far as she could tell, her only exit. She had once seen him jump through a mirror, but the Castle was his.

When she reached the portal, she hesitated, and only partly because she disliked throwing up on principle. “Did he come back to you?”

Lord Nightshade raised a perfect brow. His smile was cool, but genuine. “Yes, Kaylin. Briefly.”

“When?”

“Recently.” More than that, he would not say; she knew it. Wanted to press, anyway, and would have had he not been standing so close.

“Why?”

“Because the deaf – the mortal deaf – have a desire to
be
understood, and I understood him. I still do.” He paused and then said, “He does not desire love, for that, we are not capable of giving, and he understands this, now. But he desires a place that is his. He wants to belong.”

“To what?”

“To the dream of the Tha’alaan, Kaylin. And that was a poor question. You could answer it yourself.”

“I wanted to see what you would say.”

He raised a brow again, but this time, his lips turned down in a slight grimace, and she found herself changing the subject.

“Did he ask for your help?”

Lord Nightshade said nothing.

“Did he bring the child with him?”

“No.”

“And if he had – ”

“There are some things, Kaylin, that should never be put into words. I have killed children in my time, and I have seen them killed. But… you will find him, I think. Whether or not you will find him in time remains to be seen.”

She paused for ten minutes outside of the castle walls, mostly because she wanted her stomach to stop heaving. The portal’s method of swallowing her and spitting her out – in either direction – was fast becoming something she planned on fixing. Where fixing involved large hammers and a small army of people intent on destruction.

It was night, of course, and the moons were high; the air was still humid, and the humidity clung to the heat of the earlier day. Leaving at night was not the wisest of choices, but staying – staying seemed less wise.
Had
seemed less wise.

It had been a long day. A tiring day.

And the image that returned to her at its end made her blush slightly. Two bodies rolling in a fountain, surrounded by splashing children and nonchalant parents. And was that so bad? She had always dreaded a world without privacy. Had always hidden small weaknesses and small imperfections of which she was ashamed.

But it had never occurred to her that a world without privacy might just accept those flaws in the same way she accepted rain; might not only overlook them, but embrace them. And in that world, why would love be hidden when nothing else could be? If nothing could be hidden, there could be no lies, and no need for lying.

It was a world that should have been alien to Nightshade, and perhaps it still was; perhaps that was why the boy had interested him at all. Or perhaps they were both outcasts – still alive, but unable to connect with their own people.

She drew her dagger as she headed down the wide path from the castle and into the nighttime fief. Listened carefully for the familiar and unwelcome howl of hunting Ferals, and thought better of her desire for home.

And a shadow moved in the moonlight, a single shadow. She shouldn’t have recognized it in the darkness, but she did. Something about the way Severn moved would always be familiar.

“How long have you been waiting here?” she asked as she approached him.

He answered with his characteristic shrug. “Long enough.”

“It’s not safe – ”

“It’s always been safer in packs,” he replied. “It’s always been safer not to be alone.”

She looked at him for a moment. “Aren’t we, though?”

“Alone?”

She nodded.

“Sometimes, yes,” he replied softly, understanding the whole of her question. “We aren’t the Tha’alani. We’ll never have that perfect understanding, either of ourselves or of each other.”

“I think I want it.”

“You wouldn’t, if it were offered to you now.”

“Why?”

“Because there are things you – and I – have done, Kaylin, that the Tha’alaan could not accept.
We’ve
learned to, or we’ve tried. What they see in the deaf
is
there. But this is the only way we can live, because we’re not Tha’alani.”

But I can speak to you.

He startled, and then turned to face her.

And you can call my name.

“Yes.”

She wanted to say more. But she held it back, because in the end, there were some things she didn’t even know how to put into words, and without the words to contain them, she wasn’t even sure she understood them herself.

“Did you get what you came for?”

She nodded. Reached into her shirt and withdrew the folded paper. “A name.”

“May I?”

“I doubt you’ll be able to read it in this light.” But she handed it to him anyway.

“Probably not. But we’ll go where there is light.”

“And not where we can sleep?”

“You won’t,” he replied. He was, of course, right. She was tired, but not so tired that she could leave this until tomorrow.

Because time was an issue. Nightshade had said so.

Marcus, to their great surprise, was still at the office. He was absently retracing old furrows his claws had put in the hardwood surface of his antique desk. Well, that was what the merchant carpenter had called this particular desk –
antique
sounded a lot better than
cast-off
or
used
. To some people. To Kaylin, given the desk, it was one and the same, and she’d been perfectly willing to insult the smug little man in order to get the price down. Which was why, of course, Marcus had taken her. Marcus seemed to need new desks a lot, and the Quartermaster didn’t dock
his
pay.

Among the Leontines, the women were usually the ones who bartered. Men were either above that sort of petty squabble – which Kaylin doubted – or prone to take offense and kill the squabbler. Which was, as everyone in the office knew, technically illegal, if tempting.

The sergeant looked up when they entered, although given Leontine hearing, he’d heard them a good ways off. “You’re back,” he said, and gestured to the two chairs that just happened to be placed facing him, in front of the intimidating piles of paper that
always
adorned his desk.

Kaylin slumped into one chair; Severn took a seat more fluidly and gracefully. He did, however, hand Marcus the piece of paper he had taken from Kaylin’s shaking hands.

“What’s this?”

“The name of a man who has connections with the fief-lords,” Severn replied.

“And it came from?”

Severn shrugged.

Kaylin said quietly, “Lord Nightshade.”

“You were sent to visit Evanton this afternoon. Whatever it was you found missing there, it must have involved a misplaced… person.”

Apparently news of their visit to Missing Persons had, as it often did, traveled.

“While technically I would appreciate a report, practically, I won’t actually
read
it unless it involves a kidnapping or a murder. And Evanton doesn’t have children.”

Kaylin hesitated and Marcus growled, but without much fang in it. Clearly, it
had
been a long day at the office. “It must have something to do with children, Kaylin – you never head to Missing Persons unless it does. You whine about records access otherwise. Pretend I’m not stupid. It’s a career-advancing move.

“You returned and managed to weasel your way around the idiot in charge of records – ”
idiot
was about as kind a term as Marcus ever dredged up for the man ” – and came up with nothing.

“However, there is currently in that division a Tha’alani who is seconded to the Imperial service. I believe you were seen speaking with him, Kaylin. More than that – someone said that you allowed him to actually touch your face.”

“We all have to grow up sometime,” she said, adding a growl to the words that she hoped made them sound like Marcus. He recognized her mockery, but said, “You sound like a drowning kitling.”

She gave up, although gods knew he’d said worse things about her attempts to use Leontine. Swearing, of course, came naturally – but it was hard to get that wrong in any tongue.

“I took the liberty – at some personal expense – of reviewing your inquiries into Records,” he added. “The fact that you’re here strongly implies that you didn’t find what you were looking for.”

“Nothing’s ever that easy in this damn place,” she muttered. Damn, she was tired.

“Kaylin, where did you go afterward? Straight to Nightshade?”

“No.”

Marcus nodded, as if he already knew the answer and was hoping to catch her out in a lie. Given his mood, Kaylin didn’t want to become a desk substitute for those claws, and as far as lies went, she was only
slightly
better than Marcus at telling them.

“And where did your investigation take you?”

“Actually,” she said quietly, “it wasn’t part of the investigation. It was a – I was – we were paying a social call.”