Cast in Honor (The Chronicles of Elantra) (8 page)

“Fine.”

“Moran—”

“I can’t get to and from the Aerie in my current state. I
won’t
abandon my responsibilities here while I laze about waiting to heal. I
will not
,” she added, in the same dire tone, “allow you to heal me—we’ve had this discussion before.” She exhaled. “And no, I’m not comfortable accepting hospitality in another’s home at the present time.”

“The Emperor is willing to let Bellusdeo stay with me.”

“Good for him.”

“He even said he’d enjoy seeing the Barrani attempt to assassinate her again. He doesn’t think they’d survive even the attempt.”

Moran stilled. “You’re paraphrasing.”

“I’m not Barrani—I don’t remember his exact words.”

“Wait. You’re claiming that you heard the
Emperor
say this
directly
?”

Kaylin snapped her jaw shut. Teela had, apparently, forgotten to breathe. Which was unfortunate, because Moran turned to the Barrani Hawk for the first time since they’d entered the room. “When did you let Private Neya speak with the Emperor? It was agreed—” She stopped abruptly, shaking her head. “Apparently the private isn’t the only one who’s forgetting herself. I’m going to pretend I never heard you say that—and you’re going to pretend you never said it. Records,” she added, speaking to the flat and nascent mirror, “note. Personal Records: infirmary.”

“My current home is Helen. She’s like the Tower in Tiamaris. She’s not as strong, and she’s not as aware of events that occur outside of her grounds—or walls, I’m not entirely certain. Inside her walls, she’s got the same control over architecture that Tara has: she can make and change whole rooms, stairs, ceilings, floors—you name it. I wasn’t lying about the aperture in the tower—we used it to join the battle outside the High Halls.

“I don’t want you to live in the infirmary. One: I was told it was almost illegal, and I want to believe that
everyone
has to live by the same rules. Two: it’s not a
home
. You never get to leave your place of work. Everything frustrating about it—and having seen some of your patients, I can’t believe there’s no frustration—is around you all the time.

“If you’re here because you won’t take a leave of absence—and I get that because I couldn’t afford to lose more than a week’s pay myself—”

Teela cleared her throat.

Kaylin forged ahead. “—then the Hawks are grateful. You’re scary—but anyone who wasn’t couldn’t be in charge here. People obey you instinctively. They obey you when you give orders.”

“Or when I tell them to get the hell out of my infirmary?”

Kaylin reddened, but plunged on. “I know Aerians don’t live in normal houses. I know the Aerie is nothing like any of the rooms we’ve seen in Helen so far. But Helen can make quarters that will at least be comfortable for you. It’s not far from the Halls, and there’s nothing wrong with your legs. If you’re likely to face assassins while walking to work, it’s not more of a risk than you probably faced while flying in.”

“Kaylin—no.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want—”

“I’m not at risk, Moran!” Kaylin was almost surprised at the strength of her emotional response—an emotion she was trying very hard to name.

Her efforts, as they often were when she felt too strongly about something, were apparently wasted. Moran’s eyes shifted back to gray, though. “Kitling,” she said—a word she seldom used with Kaylin, “—it’s not that I don’t appreciate the offer.”

“I’ve never
had
much,” Kaylin said, in a lower tone. “When I came here—when the Hawklord chose not to—” She swallowed. “I had the clothing on my back and the gear I’d used to scale the Tower. I had my weapons. I didn’t have a coin in my pocket. I didn’t have a home of my own.

“Not everyone loved me. Not everyone
liked
me. One or two people were offended by my very presence. But most of the Hawks were at least neutral, and some of them were even friendly. Caitlin helped me find a place of my own. I didn’t have the money to pay for it, so the Hawks did.”

“That came out of a very specific budget, I recall.”

“Yes. The mascot budget. Which was embarrassing, but—people helped
me
. When I needed help, they gave it.”

“I
do not
need help.”

“No?” Kaylin forced her hands to relax, because she had balled them into fists. “I know you won’t die without it. But you know what? I wouldn’t have died, either. I knew how to survive. This is the
first time
in my life I’ve been able to offer to help. To pay back to the Hawks what was given to
me
.”

“Kitling.” Teela’s use of the word was so common it might have been Kaylin’s actual name. She slid an arm around Kaylin’s shoulders. “Your age is showing.” When Kaylin failed to reply, Teela added, “No one helped you out because we wanted to humiliate you—if I recall the early days, you did that quite effectively on your own.”

“Thanks a lot, Teela.”

“No one helped you with the expectation that you would owe us, or be obligated to us, in future. Any kindness done to you in the past is not an obligation you must carry with you until you can—somewhat forcefully, I feel—discharge it.”

“It’s not really that,” Kaylin said, looking at her feet. “It’s just—I never had much. I have things now. The Hawks are the only family I have. Moran, you’re a Hawk.” She lifted her chin. “You’re like a terrifying aunt or older sister. Not Barrani-scary—if you’re angry at me, I know I deserve it.”

Teela cleared her throat.

“But I feel like—I feel—” She stopped. “I know this is not really about me.”

“But?” Moran unexpectedly prompted.

“I feel like somehow, still, after years of being a Hawk, and working hard, and becoming an adult—I feel like I’m not grown-up enough, or not
good enough
, to be allowed to help you.”

“Ugh,” Moran replied. “It has nothing to do with that. It’s not about
you
, you’re right. I just don’t want to involve you in my personal affairs.”

“And if Teela had offered?”

“I don’t want to involve
me
in
Teela’s
personal affairs.”

Kaylin laughed. “I don’t have much choice.”

“You really don’t,” Teela agreed. “The perils of joining the force as a minor, even as a mascot.”

“We can drop the mascot bit anytime now.”

“Kids,” Moran said. “You can have the rest of that particular discussion in the hall. I’ve heard it enough to know there’s nothing new for an audience in it.” They remained silent, and she looked down at the desk, where the familiar was still expectantly perched. “This is irresponsible,” she continued.

“You don’t have to decide right now,” Kaylin told her. “But—come with me when you’re off shift? You can meet Helen. You can see where I live—and where everyone else lives, if they’re okay with that. You can decide then.”

“Fine. Fine, I’ll visit.”

Kaylin wanted to cheer. “Now?”

Moran sighed. “I suppose we might as well get it over with.”

* * *

“You’re expected at the library,” Teela reminded her quietly as they exited the infirmary.

“I know,” Kaylin replied.

“Kitling—”

“She’ll change her mind. If we don’t get her home, she’ll change her mind. I can talk to the Arkon tomorrow.”

“Your funeral.”

* * *

“You live in
this
neighborhood?” Moran asked as they walked toward Kaylin’s home. Trees—well-groomed and towering—covered the street as if they were nature’s fences.

“I know, right? But it’s where Helen was built.”

“I’m still having difficulty with that.”

“With what?”

“With thinking of a building as a person. It’s not that it has a name—buildings frequently do. So do rooms. They don’t generally have people names, though.”

“Or personalities,” Kaylin agreed. “You’ll understand it better when you meet her.”

Out of the corner of her mouth, Moran asked Teela, “Why did I think this was a good idea?”

“You didn’t, that I recall. You just weren’t willing to accept the cost of refusing to consider it.”

Moran glared at Kaylin. “Teela doesn’t live with you, correct?”

“No. Two of her friends do, and she’s coming with me to check up on them.”

“So...I’d be living with Barrani.”

“Not technically. You might
hear
them, but at least one of them has been practically invisible for weeks. They’re not like normal Barrani—I think you’d actually like them.”

Teela coughed, but Moran smiled. When the Aerian smiled, she looked vastly more vulnerable—maybe that was why she did it so seldom. “Is there anything else I should know?”

“Not really. Helen likes flowers.”

Moran blinked.

“...And I’m shutting up now. You’ll see.”

* * *

Helen was waiting in the foyer by the time Kaylin entered the house. Like Tara, Helen understood Kaylin’s visceral dislike of door wards; she even considered it sensible, as no one
liked
pain. She smiled brightly at the sight of Teela.

“I’m so glad you’ve come,” she told the Barrani. “I’m not certain I can talk any more sense into Annarion; he is very, very worried. Mandoran’s been trying, but Annarion has shut him out completely.”

“Yes, I’d heard,” Teela replied. “Are they in the basement?”

“Mandoran is in his room. Annarion is downstairs.”

“If it’s all right with you, I’ll go talk to Annarion.”

“Of course, dear. I’m very worried about that boy.” Teela walked past her, but Helen had already moved on—though Helen could accompany Teela
and
simultaneously greet a guest without even blinking.

“Helen, this is Moran. She’s a Hawk, and she’s in charge of the infirmary. As a sergeant. Moran, this is Helen.”

“If it’s easier,” Helen said, extending a hand, “think of me as a particularly concerned landlord.”

“Kaylin talks about you a lot in the office,” Moran replied, offering her the smile she seldom offered anyone in the Halls, except Caitlin. Her wings folded more naturally across her back, losing some of their height; her eyes settled into a comfortable dark gray. “This is a very impressive foyer.”

“Do the Aeries have foyers?”

“Not like this, but yes, there are areas that would serve the same function. The oldest of ours features more weaponry, though.” She seemed hesitant to elaborate further.

“I was hoping,” Kaylin said, rightly guessing the reason for the hesitation, “that Moran could stay with us. Her wings were injured when the Barrani ancestors came to visit, and she can’t fly properly, so she either has to take a leave of absence—”

“—or find a place to stay while she heals?” Helen was looking at Moran’s wings. Kaylin guessed that she was assessing them from a different vantage point—from the front, very little of the actual injuries could be examined.

“Yes, that. And at the moment, she’s living in the—”

Moran cleared her throat. Loudly.

“Yes, I see. That won’t do. I do have rooms that I think might suit you, if you would care to look at them. I don’t, unfortunately, have a working connection to the mirror network yet. Kaylin has been quite vocal about the necessity. Would you also require it?”

Moran’s smile in response was almost feline. “No, actually, having no mirror connection would be a godsend.”

* * *

Kaylin followed her guest and Helen, trailing behind. She wasn’t certain what she should be doing. Moran’s rooms would be her rooms; they weren’t part of Kaylin’s living space unless Moran specifically invited her in. But Helen was Kaylin’s home, and in theory, it was Kaylin offering hospitality. Would it be bad manners to tag along? Bad manners to hang back?

Etiquette gave Kaylin a headache, in part because good etiquette demanded entirely different behaviors in almost exactly the same situations. And also because it was Diarmat who was teaching.

She lagged behind, small and squawky across her shoulders like a wet blanket. He didn’t even lift his head when Moran opened the door Helen indicated. Her room was nestled between everyone else’s in the hall of doors; the door was adorned by a very simple, but obviously winged, person in silhouette.

Kaylin wasn’t certain what to expect. She’d seen the Aerie in which Clint and his flight lived—or rather, she’d seen the large, public spaces the entire Aerie shared. It had looked like a giant cave, though with smoother walls and adornments. She didn’t recall windows, but didn’t remember the darkness of natural caves, either. She had no idea what Aerians did for kitchens; she knew they didn’t eat sitting in normal chairs, because their wings made it impossible.

She had no idea how they slept. The fledglings slept in traditional bassinets, though with more padding. Other creatures with wings slept sitting upright—or hanging upside down, in the case of bats. She’d never been stupid enough to ask the Aerians whether they did the same thing. Or perhaps she’d just been too self-conscious about
sounding
stupid.

Kaylin started forward and almost ran into Moran’s back. The Aerian was standing in the doorway, her right hand on the frame; her knuckles were white.

“Moran?” Kaylin asked.

Moran didn’t appear to hear her, which might have been because of the raucous noise of birds. Kaylin couldn’t tell if they were angry birds or not; she could only tell that there were a lot of them.

Moran turned in the doorway to face Helen, who waited in silence. She then looked at Kaylin. “Did you know?” she asked, her voice entirely unlike the harsh bark the infirmary required.

Kaylin shook her head. “I still don’t.”

Moran stepped into the room, indicating by gesture that Kaylin should follow.

* * *

This was not a room in the traditional sense of the word; it only had three walls, for one. The floor was harder than the one in Kaylin’s room; it was stone. Flat stone, mind, that had obviously been worked—but still, stone. Kaylin’s habit of falling out of bed when nightmares were bad or the mirror barked did not lend itself to hard stone floors.

The walls appeared to be made of stone, too—and the stone wasn’t cut stone or block; it was all of a piece. Arches had been worked into the walls, and Kaylin could see light from rooms to the left and right of this one. But this room was enormous. It was also not one in which Kaylin thought she could
ever
sleep, because it was missing a wall.