LITMIR.BIZ

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      No, Kaylin.

      She thought of Mandoran. Of Barrani children, and Barrani childhood—artifacts, all, of ancient wars. He’s alive. He’s here. He’s—he’s like Teela. He’s Barrani. He—he wasn’t, for a while.

      He is not, now. Silence again, and then a measured curiosity. Kaylin couldn’t understand the question it contained—and that had never happened in the Tha’alaan before. I understand how you see this...Mandoran. I understand that you see the name to which he wakened.

      But it is not, now, all that he is, and he brings danger with him. I sense his kin in the heart of the green; they are safest there. Send him back.

      I’ll talk to him.

      Speak with care, Kaylin. You do not understand what he is.

      Does he?

      Silence. Then, I...do not know. I think—I think he attempted to speak with me as he might once have spoken. I offer my apologies to the Keeper, she added. But it is best that Mandoran refrain from entering the Garden until either you understand what Mandoran has become, or until Mandoran does.

      Where is he?

      Ah. He is with the Keeper.

      Kaylin didn’t ask where he’d been until now. Instead, she opened her eyes. The air was once again clear; she was on the back of a golden Dragon whose scales gleamed in the aftermath of an impromptu shower. Grethan was rigid in Teela’s arms, and Teela was the color of alabaster, except for her eyes, which were the expected very dark blue.

      The water itself was once again confined in the deep, still pond; the brazier in the fire looked no worse for the deluge. The breeze was warm, but gentle.

      Evanton, however, was soggy. He resembled an elderly, bedraggled rat, but with less hair. “Do not give me that look, Private; I assure you I am drier than you are.”

      Bellusdeo, relieved of passengers, snorted smoke. “It occurs to me,” she said, “that the Imperial Court is unlikely to be impressed.”

      “You didn’t go dragon in the city streets,” Kaylin pointed out.

      “No. They’d be instantly aware of that transgression. I’m more concerned about the clothing.”

      “...Clothing.”

      “Don’t make that face. I’m not about to parade naked through Elani street. I am, however, about to be reduced to wearing armor—a military look that I fear the Emperor doesn’t favor.” She cleared her throat, loudly.

      “I think she’s telling you to turn around,” Teela said.

      “Right.”

      * * *

      Everyone was bedraggled except for the Dragon; Bellusdeo looked as if she were about to stride to war as an army of one. An impressive army, admittedly; she looked like the idealization of a warrior queen, more sculpture or painting than life. Teela was busy ringing water out of the perfect length of her hair, having done the same for her tabard. Mandoran was sitting on the ground, his knees folded into his chest, his chin resting on top of them. His eyes were ringed with shadow, but they weren’t any darker than Teela’s. Then again, black wouldn’t have been much darker than Teela’s at the moment.

      Evanton placed a hand on Mandoran’s shoulder; the Barrani youth looked up.

      “It can’t be helped,” the Keeper said, in an incredibly gentle voice. Kaylin felt her jaw slide open; she’d expected fury and death threats, as well as forcible ejection. Evanton’s frown reasserted itself as he looked at her. “I would, of course, be extremely angry if you did something this foolish in my garden.” His tone implied that he expected Kaylin, at least, to know better.

      Mandoran, however, slumped.

      “Lord Teela,” Evanton said.

      “Keeper.”

      “Take Mandoran home. He will require both food and rest.”

      “What happened?” Kaylin asked. From Teela’s expression, it was clear she already knew. “Evanton? Did you expect this?”

      “Hardly.”

      “You don’t look surprised.”

      “At my age, I seldom do. I can manage outrage, if you insist.”

      Since she had an idea of who that would be aimed at, she changed the subject. “I don’t suppose you have a dress a Dragon could wear?”

      “No.”

      “Access to one?”

      “No.”

      “Are the Imperial spies still sitting across the damn street taking notes?”

      “Yes. I imagine they were impressed that you brought Bellusdeo to visit.”

      Kaylin wanted to start the day over. The small dragon squawked.

      “They’ll be more impressed,” Teela said, “when they see the results. You look like a warrior queen.”

      Bellusdeo was not immune to honest flattery, and smiled, inclining her chin. She clearly didn’t have to deal with quartermasters.

      * * *

      “What did bring you here today?” Evanton asked Kaylin. She’d removed and wrung out her tabard, but that hadn’t helped much. She was sloshing as she walked.

      “You were waiting for us,” Kaylin replied. “You don’t know?”

      “I am not an Oracle. You’ve been absent from your beat for almost two months.” His eyes narrowed. “I had, of course, heard of Bellusdeo; I doubt there’s a thinking being in the city who hasn’t. I also heard—although in this the grapevine is less reliable—that you are now out of a home.”

      “An Arcane bomb,” Kaylin replied. “It was intended for Bellusdeo; I was collateral damage.”

      “You both appear to be healthy, if a tad on the bedraggled side.”

      She nodded and glanced at the small dragon, who was flopped across her shoulders. He lifted his head—only his head—to stare at Evanton. He then squawked. Several times. “The Arcane bomb destroyed a quarter of the building I lived in. We were at ground zero—but he put up some kind of magical shield, which saved our lives.”

      “Yes, I noticed your companion.” He bowed—to the small dragon. “My apologies for my lack of greeting. All Kaylin’s companions this afternoon are worthy of note; I am too old to deal gracefully with a crowd.”

      The small dragon nodded.

      “You are her familiar?”

      Squawk.

      “Ah. An interesting choice. I hope you don’t expect a peaceful, tranquil life.”

      Snort.

      “Evanton—can you understand him?”

      Evanton’s white brows lofted upward. “You can’t?”

      “I can figure out what he means—it’s pretty obvious. But...none of his squawks sound like language, to me.”

      The Keeper’s frown was a complicated network of lines. The small dragon squawked some more, and ended on a hiss that sounded very much like laughter. It didn’t help when Evanton chuckled in response.

      “Where did you find him?” Evanton asked.

      “Long story.”

      “You are not notably shy about an excess of words on most days.”

      “I’m not usually in the company of a Dragon and a Barrani who can piss off the heart of the elemental water just by speaking to her.” She grimaced. “I’m not usually a guest in the Imperial Palace, on a desperate hunt for a new home that won’t have the Emperor turning me into a small heap of ash.”

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