Cast in Peril. Michelle Sagara
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expression smooth and cool as winter stone. “Ask,” he said softly. When her silence extended for minutes beyond awkward, he smiled. It was thin. “I would not have all effort in this conversation be mine. You made a decision, Kaylin. You have come to my fief, my Castle, to ask a simple question. Ask. I will not lie.”
She exhaled. “There’s been a series of disappearances in Tiamaris.”
His expression didn’t shift. At all. “Continue.”
“One of the people who disappeared in the fief wasn’t a native. He crossed the bridge on a dare.”
At that, Nightshade frowned. “That is unfortunate.”
“Is it more unfortunate than the other disappearances?”
“Of course. That mortal was a citizen of the Empire over which a Dragon claims ownership.”
“And the others were citizens of a fief over which a different Dragon claims ownership.”
“A Dragon who is in the unheard-of position of also owing loyalty to the Eternal Emperor. I do not envy him the loss of an Imperial citizen within the boundaries of his fief; he will almost certainly be called upon to explain it.”
“An explanation has presented itself.”
She felt him stiffen, although nothing about his expression or posture changed at all.
“And that?”
“A Barrani Lord of some power appears to have been involved.”
“Ah. You call him a Lord?”
“The Barrani who have power aren’t generally content to let it remain unrecognized.”
His smile was slender, sharp, and laced with an odd approval. “True. Why do you believe a Barrani Lord to be involved?”
“Because you do,” she replied, the words as tight and sharp as his smile.
“Perhaps that is merely the arrogance of my kind.” He rose. “If events are of significance, of consequence, we assume our own to have a hand in them.”
“So do we. Your own.” She could find no warmth with which to smile. “I saw him.”
Once again he stilled. “You…saw him? The Barrani you accuse?”
“I saw him,” she repeated, “in the border zone.”
* * *
After a significant pause, Nightshade spoke. “You are so certain, Kaylin, that the individual you saw in the border zone was Barrani?”
In response, she folded her arms. “I am.”
“The border areas are often…amorphous. What is seen—”
“I don’t want to play this game.”
“Ah.” A brief smile. “Which game, then, would you indulge in, in its stead?”
“You’re aware that I’m currently resident in the Imperial Palace?”
The smile vanished. “I was not.”
“You are aware that the only home I’ve ever had I could truly call my own was destroyed yesterday?”
Silence. It was not an awkward silence—but it was. Nightshade resumed his seat, the table dividing them. “I was not.” He glanced at the small dragon. “How was it destroyed?”
“An Arcane bomb.” Her throat was inexplicably tight; it was hard to force words out. The small dragon rubbed the underside of her jaw with the top of his head.
He asked nothing, watching her.
“The magical signature left in the wake of the bomb is not currently in the records of the Imperial Order.”
He nodded, as if the information were irrelevant.
“But that same magical signature can be found in the fief of Tiamaris, near the border, where I saw the Barrani we believe to be involved in the disappearances.”
“And your question?”
“People have been disappearing from the fief of Tiamaris for the past week—that we’re aware of. How long have people gone missing from your streets?”
“If I say they have not?”
“I’ll redefine the word ‘missing.’” She pushed herself to her feet, feeling too confined by the stillness enforced by sitting. “Was the unnamed Barrani Lord buying people from your fief?”
“It is not, in the fief of Nightshade, an illegal activity. Imperial Laws have no jurisdiction here. Nor do they in any other fief; Lord Tiamaris may style himself after Imperial rule, but it is choice, not dictate.”
“Is Imperial gold currently in what passes for your coffers?”
“We use the resources we have, Kaylin, and we sacrifice the things of lesser import to us.”
She swallowed.
“You have done the same in your short past. Perhaps you comfort yourself by telling yourself you had no choice. If it will comfort you in a like fashion, pretend that I, likewise, felt I had no choice.”
“How?”
“Pardon?”
“How am I supposed to pretend that? You’re the fieflord here. If someone came to threaten you—in any way—the Castle would probably eat them. They wouldn’t make it out alive unless it also suited your purpose. You won’t—you probably can’t—starve. You won’t freeze. All-out magical assault probably couldn’t destroy these walls.
“Given all that, how am I supposed to pretend you had no choice?”
He raised a brow. “I am almost surprised that you’ve considered making that effort. Very well. Some two or three dozen of the people who live in the fief have been extracted from its streets, with my permission. I received compensation for their loss.”
“Where were they sent?”
“Why do you suppose they were sent anywhere?”
“Because there’s a door in Tiamaris that opens into the outlands.”
Nightshade’s eyes were indigo. “Do not go near that door,” he said, all pretense of civility lost. “Do not touch it.”
“It’s not in your fief, and yes, Tiamaris is well aware of its existence. He protects his citizens.”
“As the shepherd protects his sheep.”
Stung, she said, “No. As a decent ruler protects his people.”
“Is there no difficulty within this city that will not, eventually, entangle you? I ask it, Kaylin, if I cannot command it. You do not understand the danger.”
“I understand it better than any of the people who were lost to it!”
“Kaylin.” He rose, and the way he stood made her conscious of the difference in their height, their weight, and their reach. She stiffened, bending at the knees as if she would, at any minute, have to throw herself bodily out of harm’s reach. The small dragon reared once again, spreading his wings just behind her head, like a slender, glass fan.
Nightshade ignored him this time.
The small dragon had ways of making himself heard, at least when he wanted Kaylin’s attention; Nightshade, however, was not the kind of man one bit on the ear or chin. Instead of maintaining his rigid posture on her left shoulder, the familiar launched himself into the closing space between the fieflord and the Hawk, buoying himself up with the silent motion of delicate, translucent wings.
He looked, to Kaylin’s eye, tiny and fragile in his defiance, and she almost reached out to grab him and pull him back, but she didn’t want to injure those wings.
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