LITMIR.BIZ

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of it.”

      “With the deaf?”

      “With, as you say, the deaf.”

      Onnay shook her head forcefully. “That’s not possible,” she said at last.

      “Why?”

      “He lived there some time.”

      “We are aware of this.”

      “And he came back—” She shook her head. “He lived a nightmare there. Here, he could wake and be at peace. He was happy to be home,” she said. “And we were happy to see him return.

      “He shared some of his life on the outside with us.” She could not suppress her shudder, and didn’t even bother to try. “And it hurt us,” she whispered. “We did not ask him to share all. I do not think—”

      Nevaron shook his head. “It was not easy for him to share, and it was not easy for us. Onnay did not touch him, that day. I did.” He lifted his chin slightly. “I am of the Tha’alanari.”

      “You will find work on the outside,” Severn said quietly. It was not a question.

      “Even so.”

      Severn nodded. “And you kept much of this from the Tha’alaan?”

      “They would be—what is the word?—darkened by it.”

      Severn nodded again. “In the memories that you touched,” he said softly, “were there no happy ones?”

      “None that I would call happy, if I understand the Elantran word correctly.”

      “And he met no one, found no one, that he might consider a friend?”

      “Friend,” Onnay said, and looked at Nevaron.

      “It is an Elantran word,” he replied, carefully and politely. “Ybelline sent them,” he added. “It means people who care.”

      “Then we are all his friends.”

      Nevaron’s antennae danced away from Onnay’s for a moment and her brows lifted. She smacked his chest. Kaylin laughed. “My apologies,” Nevaron said gravely, “but Onnay doesn’t pay much attention to racial differences.”

      “Well, it isn’t as if I will go Outside.” Onnay frowned.

      Kaylin laughed again. “Oh, Onnay,” she said, at the girl’s quizzical look, “no one ever really knows what they’ll be doing until they’re in the middle of it.”

      “And the Tha’alaan contains very little about Outsiders,” she continued, obviously still annoyed.

      “True,” Severn said, before Nevaron could dig himself into a deeper ditch. “But if he has left the quarter, he must have had some destination in mind.”

      Nevaron hesitated for a moment longer, and then said, “I can show you where.” And Severn, as if he did this every bloody day, bowed his head and bent his face down so that it was within reach of Nevaron’s antennae.

      He stiffened suddenly, but did not withdraw, and Kaylin could see, in the clear lines of Nevaron’s expression, some shock. “You know this place?” he asked, his voice low.

      Severn’s brief chuckle was so dark, Kaylin knew instantly what the answer would be.

      “Yes,” he said quietly. He turned to Kaylin, and his expression gave her no hope at all.

      “Nightshade,” she said softly.

      “The fief, yes,” Severn replied. And then, after a moment, added, “And the fieflord, Kaylin.”

      CHAPTER

       5

      Kaylin was silent on the walk home. She didn’t even try to lead; she followed Severn as if she were his shadow, a part of his movement, impossible to separate from it.

      “Kaylin?”

      She shook her head. “I’ll go,” she said quietly.

      “Alone?”

      “I think it—I think so.”

      “I despise the fieflord,” Severn said in a flat and neutral tone, “but his taste has never run toward the mutilation of children. Not her age.” He paused, and then added, as if it were dragged from him and he was unwilling to let it go, “I do not think, even if it did, that he would pursue it while you lived. There are some things that you do not forget.”

      “Did Nevaron give you all of Grethan’s memory?” She felt almost dirty asking. Like a gossip, but worse. And she hated herself for it; she was doing what she herself feared might be done to her. Hypocrisy and Kaylin were not close friends.

      “No,” Severn replied. “It was not his to give. He is Tha’alanari. He understands why barriers must be placed, and where.”

      She nodded. The answer was both a frustration and a comfort. “Just an image?”

      “More than an image, but not a whole story,” he replied. “The image of Mayalee is not the same as the description of the girl you saw in Evanton’s … shop. I do not think they are the same child,” he added, “although neither have been reported as missing. As neither have been officially reported,” he added quietly, “I’m not sure we’ll be allowed to officially investigate, either.”

      She nodded absently. “Subsection of the human rights code v.8 states clearly that—”

      “Those who are incapable of stating a case are still protected by the dictates of law.”

      “It was meant to make provisions for—”

      “Abused children, or those sold to brothels by their parents, often for transport to the fiefs.”

      “You’re good,” she said with a half smile.

      “As are you, which is probably more surprising given your general academic history.” His smile was fleeting, but genuine. “But the first case almost certainly involves magic.”

      “And the second?”

      “It involves Nightshade,” Severn said quietly. “What do you think?”

      “Magic.” She said the two syllables with the emphasis she usually reserved for Leontine cursing. “Gods, I hate magic.”

      “Don’t start, Kaylin.”

      “All right. I won’t.”

      “And speaking of magic—”

      “Yes, damn it, I know.”

      “You’re late.”

      “Did I not just say I know that?”

      “Have you ever been on time for one of your lessons?”

      “Once. I think it almost gave Sanabalis a heart attack. If,” she added darkly, “Dragon lords have hearts.”

      “I believe they have four.”

      “Probably because they ate three.” She started to run because Severn had begun to jog.

      “I have a few questions to ask the sergeant,” Severn said. “I’ll meet you after you’ve finished.”

      Lord Sanabalis of the Dragon court had that aura of aged wisdom that had not yet declined into dotage. She found him both comforting and frightening—but then again, she’d seen a Dragon in its serpent form, so that was understandable.

      He was also, in his own way, kind. The day she had been on time, he had been late. In fact he had taken to arriving about half an hour to an hour later than their scheduled appointment, probably to put Marcus at ease. It was not something she thought other Dragons would do; even Tiamaris, technically still seconded to the Hawks, would not have condescended to show that much consideration for the merely mortal.

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