Harvest Moon (22 page)

Kaylin, on the other hand, suddenly thought she understood why Teela was deliberately trying to annoy the younger mage, and she felt grateful. She also felt her skin begin to tingle. It wasn't as immediately painful as it had been the first time, which meant he was using a different spell or she was getting used to his magic.

She watched as the blue marks began to emerge. They weren't runic in the way they had been across the walls; it was as if the runes or sigils were so large they couldn't be contained in shape and form by something as small as the patch of floor.

She coughed gently; he grimaced. “I
am
trying,” was the curt reply. It was strained, and if she looked carefully, she could see sweat beading his forehead. The blue didn't get any brighter, but it didn't dim. She
began to examine the floor as carefully as he appeared to be examining it. “There,” she said.

“I see it. I'm surprised you could. Well, more surprised.”

“Does it look like cloth to you?”

“Very much, but fine, fine cloth. Its color?”

“The same color as—as the magic on the dead girl. But it looks like it's circular.”

“Keep watching. Watch
closely
. You will not have much time.”

She nodded. The blue light moved. It
rose
. As it rose, she could see that it was attached by threads, or trails of sharp light, to the floor itself. But beneath it she could see her golden smudge: it was not as bright as the blue light—she thought, when cast, it had never been as bright—but it was infinitely more complicated: it had the shape of the runes on her skin, but the lines, the strokes, the rounded curves, were finer and more dense. She recognized it, although it seemed more solid: it was the same mark as those that had risen from a dead girl's eyes in the morgue, but written over and over again until it comprised a closed circle, surrounding the blackened rock.

Looking up, she met Ceridath's eyes; he was watching her intently.

“It's the same,” she said softly.

He nodded, and then said, “Corporal?”

Teela crossed the damp floor. Farris was behind her, and behind Farris, Tain. “Well?”

“I find evidence of the Arcane bomb here. It's likely that at least one was detonated
in
the holding cell. It obviates any possibility of any other magic. This was not unexpected,” he added. “Farris?”

“I do not feel it is a good use of either our time or our power,” was the clipped, curt reply.

“Then please, feel free to tell the Emperor that,” Teela snapped.

Farris was silent; he met and held her gaze. Her gaze was now very blue, with very little green in it.

“You are the only person in the Imperial Order who is likely to find something I cannot,” Ceridath pointed out. “And the Magister made clear that the Emperor is now almost…angry…with the lack of progress in this case.”

Farris nodded.

Kaylin waited for the familiar bite of magic. She kept her expression neutral and concentrated on keeping her breathing even, but she didn't move to stand behind either Teela or Ceridath; instead, she watched Farris. His casting was not the slow, steady cast of the older mage; it was quick and sharp. The effects were instant; the blue light that adorned the ground grew by degrees, and the quality of it looked different, to Kaylin's eye. She glanced at Ceridath, who was absorbed in the manifestation of the spell's progress. This time, Kaylin could see the faint smudge that marred the otherwise solid blue, distorting its edges. She watched, waiting for Farris's reaction.

It was a long time in coming, but the smudge never got any clearer; it was lost entirely to the blue light at the end. Farris turned to Teela. “There is nothing here that I can detect. The magic from the Arcane bomb is too strong. Ceridath?”

Ceridath hesitated for just a fraction of a second, and then nodded. “If that will satisfy you, Corporal, our work here is done.”

Teela didn't look satisfied. But she nodded. “Do you gentlemen require an escort, or can you find your own way home to the ivory tower?”

“Oh, given Imperial concern and the amount of work you'll no doubt have to do here, I'm sure we can find our own way,” Farris replied coldly. “Ceridath?”

“I am fatigued, and I would like to leave this place as soon as possible.”

“Good. Have a good day, Corporal.”

 

Teela waited in silence for five minutes after the mages had departed. It was exactly the wrong kind of silence, and Kaylin backed away from it as if it were an unsheathed sword. Tain, who knew her better, did the same.

“She's not fond of mages,” he told Kaylin.

“Is anyone? I don't think the Sergeant likes them much either.”

“He doesn't. Our line of work is seldom as interesting—to mages—as their own. It is also work they feel any undereducated idiot could manage. Being put under our command annoys them, as it devalues their time. I don't care one way or the other,” he added. “Teela doesn't appreciate it.”

No kidding.

“But that's not what's made her angry at the moment.”

“No?”

“No. Come on, we're heading back to the office.”

 

Teela was angry enough that she didn't go to the office by way of the locker room, which meant Kaylin was still wearing two daggers—and a layer of dirt and dust—when they marched past the board with the
Hawks' duty roster toward the Sergeant, who was still sitting behind two large stacks of paper looking like an embattled, giant cat. Caitlin raised her head when Teela stormed by. She quietly did something to the mirror on her desk, and then rose; no one else appeared stupid enough to dare.

The Sergeant looked up as Teela reached the business end of his desk. Something about the Barrani caused his golden eyes to shade to an instant orange. “You found something.”

“Yes and no,” Teela replied. “We're about to head up to the Tower. I thought you might as well join us because you're going to get called there anyway, and it gives you a break from the paperwork.”

“Hawklord?”

She nodded.

“How serious is this?”

“Very.”

The Sergeant left his desk. When he joined Teela he stopped and looked at Kaylin, who'd been quietly standing behind Tain. “Wait with Caitlin,” he told her.

Teela, however, shook her head. “We'll need her upstairs.”

“I don't like it.”

“Doesn't matter. You'll have enough to worry about after the meeting. You won't remember that you didn't want her there later.”

 

Lord Grammayre was in the Tower. Kaylin had seen the inside of the Tower once, and once was enough; she approached it with dread. Dread, however, didn't make her walk slowly; she couldn't. Teela all but flew up the stairs, setting the pace. Teela also pressed her
hand against the door ward—if you could call pounding it so hard they could probably hear it a Tower away “pressing.” The doors rolled open immediately.

The man everyone called the Hawklord was standing in the center of his Tower, facing a tall, oval mirror. Kaylin had never seen so many mirrors in her life, but even if she had, she would never have seen so many that offered no reflection to the person standing—or sitting—in front of it.

Teela saluted. It was crisp, sharp, and absolute. Tain did likewise, but it didn't have the intensity of Teela's gesture.

The Hawklord nodded. “How did the site investigation go?”

“We had two mages. Ceridath and Farris, the latter of whom is every bit as irritating as you'd expect a much older mage to be, without the excuse of age.”

The description, while accurate, didn't seem to amuse the Hawklord. “What occurred?”

“Our initial sweep was correct—Arcane bombs were used.”

The Hawklord waited.

Teela turned to Kaylin and very treacherously nudged her toward the man who commanded them all. “Kaylin can tell you,” she said.

The Hawklord's wings shifted slightly as he resettled them across his back. “Very well. Kaylin?”

She stared at him, mouth dry, aware that this was the man to whom she had to prove herself. And prove herself in order to do
what?

“Kaylin?” he said again.

“Magic was used there before the Arcane bombs, sir.”

“You saw evidence of its use?”

She nodded.

“How clearly?”

“Not very clearly at first. Ceridath did something that made it clear enough that I could see the trace of it as a rune or a sigil.”

“Ceridath did?”

“He was trying to get the information,” she said quietly. “While trying to hide that fact that I was helping him. But he did something—I think it was hard—he looked a lot more tired after he'd finished. That made it clear to both of us.”

“Both?”

“Ceridath and me.”

“You are certain Ceridath saw what you saw.”

“I'm certain he saw what he saw.”

The Hawklord raised a brow. “I see you
have
been speaking with a mage. You are certain, then, that you are interpreting the same trace?”

She nodded firmly.

“I fail to see how this is a difficulty.”

“There are two,” Teela cut in. “The first is relatively minor—it's the same sigil as the sigil found on one of the victims. It's more cohesive because the tissue is not organic and not decaying. In and of itself, it gives us no new information. We knew a mage was involved, and it, in fact, seems to be the
same
mage.”

“I fail to see why this is a difficulty.”

Teela glanced at Tain; Tain glanced at the wall. “You'll note the moon's position.”

When the Hawklord failed to reply, she spoke a sharp word, and the long, oval mirror to one side of the Hawklord began to glow, as if it were a window into the clear
est of nighttime skies. In its center, too large for the oval to contain, was the moon; it was tinged a pale red.

“Noted,” the Hawklord said. “Why is this significant?”

“The mortals call it the Harvest Moon. The Barrani call it the Hunter's Moon. But when the
Barrani
call it the Harvest Moon, it has significantly different meaning—the Barrani do not till fields.”

“The previous deaths on record did not occur during a particular phase of the moon. With the exception of magic—a magic that might well have gone undetected—there is no obvious difference in the operation. We are, in my opinion, clearly dealing with the same criminal element.”

Teela fell silent. It was not a comfortable silence.

“I require some proof, Teela. Interracial crimes, especially those that concern the Barrani, are difficult in ways you of all people should understand. What is your second difficulty?”

“Ceridath, as expected, lied about his findings.”

The Hawklord nodded.

“I had some doubts about the usefulness of that lie in preserving his granddaughter's life. Those doubts are significantly reduced now.”

“Oh?”

“He had a known reason to lie. The second mage, to our knowledge, did not.”

Both wings now rose as flight feathers expanded outward. “You are saying that the second mage lied.”

“I am.”

“Do you think he's aware of Ceridath's difficulty?”

“Oh, I'm certain he is. But not through Ceridath. I'm certain Ceridath was surprised.”

“You did not confront the second mage.”

“No.”

“Good. Dismissed. Sergeant Kassan excepted. Corporal, put a
quiet
alert out to the Barrani Hawks. I may have need of their services on very short notice.” He turned to the mirror and said something that Kaylin didn't understand—again!—and the gray in the mirror folded in on itself to reveal a man in what looked like armor.

Teela's brows rose, and she caught Kaylin by the shoulder. “Time to leave,” she said. “But—”

“You heard the Corporal,” the Sergeant literally growled. “Go with her to Caitlin's desk and
stay there
.”

 

“I don't understand,” Kaylin said as they made their way down the stairs. The Barrani could walk quietly so naturally hers sounded like the only footsteps, and they echoed all the way up the spiral staircase.

Teela stopped walking so quickly Kaylin ran into her back. It was, notably, Kaylin who bounced. Teela turned to her; the Hawk's eyes weren't quite green, but they weren't quite blue, either.

“You may have indirectly given us the only break we've had in this case. All joking at your expense aside, we needed you there. We thought the Hawklord had lost one too many flight feathers when he dumped you on the Sergeant. Now we're wondering what the Hawklord knew that we didn't.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Tain chuckled. “Come on. If we don't get you down to Caitlin's desk, Ironjaw will sharpen his teeth on us.”

“Or try,” Teela added.

“But what's going to happen? And who was that guy?”

“That guy in the mirror, as you call him, is the Lord of Wolves. There aren't as many Wolves in the Halls as there are either Swords or Hawks, and with some reason. But they're good at a couple of things. Ground hunts. Surveillance. I bet someone's heading over to the Imperial Order now—or as soon as their conversation is finished. The Lord of Wolves isn't a very chatty man, but he's rumored to be hideously efficient.”

“Wait,” Kaylin said as they began to walk again.

“What?”

“You bet?”

“Pardon?”

“You just said ‘I bet.'”

“It's a human turn of phrase. It means I'm fairly certain—”

“No, it doesn't.”

“Really? And what do
you
think it means?”

Kaylin, at home for a moment in a subject she understood, began to explain.

 

“I really do not think that's a good idea, dear,” Caitlin said firmly. She had folded her arms across her chest and was looking pointedly at Teela and Tain, while ostensibly talking to Kaylin.