Cast in Honor (Chronicles of Elantra, #11)(37)

“In my experience,” Helen replied, with a gentle smile, “there is never a good or a bad time. There is only time. Please, eat. You haven’t had dinner yet, and neither has Kaylin.” She turned to Tain. “I don’t believe we’ve met, and I am not always conversant with the social customs of my guests.”

“This is Tain,” Kaylin immediately said. “He’s Teela’s partner in the Hawks.”

Tain’s eyes, which had lightened a bit while talking with Bellusdeo, darkened instantly. Helen ignored this.

“I’m Helen. Kaylin has agreed to make her home with me, and I have agreed to make that home safe and secure. Her friends are, by her choice, her family; you are welcome here. I apologize if ancient buildings are not comfortable for you. I cannot change my nature, but I will attempt to give you the privacy you crave.”

Tain nodded slowly.

“Will you join us for dinner? And Corporal Handred?”

Severn, fiefborn, nodded. Kaylin looked with longing at the food, but pushed her chair away from the table. “Did you leave small and squawky with Annarion?”

“Yes. He thought it best that he remain.”

“I’m sorry, Moran—I’ll be right back.”

“I hope so,” the sergeant said, in her usual clipped tones. “I can hear your stomach growling from here.”

*

Helen did not leave the guests when Kaylin did. But Helen’s disembodied voice joined her as she made her way to the stairs that led to the basement. “Is there anything you would like me to do?”

“I think you’ve done enough. Thanks for dealing with Annarion.”

“I don’t think Moran was expecting Severn or Tain.”

No, she probably hadn’t been—but to be fair, neither had Kaylin. Tain had been an intermittent fixture in her early life with the Hawks, which was probably Teela’s doing, since Tain wasn’t particularly nurturing on his own. Kaylin grimaced. Then again, neither was Teela.

Severn was Severn. Both of them were so much a part of her life that she didn’t blink an eye at their presence. But...Moran had never just walked into Kaylin’s old apartment. Moran had never dropped by to check on her. Clint had, in the early years. Marcus had, and so had his wives.

Then again, Marcus would probably rip out her throat if she tried to force living quarters on him—even if he had none. She’d have to stand behind Kayala, the first wife, in order to safely make the offer.

People were complicated. If someone had offered Kaylin shelter and a safe, clean space—with food!—she would have leaped through the door, gratefully. The only thing that would have held her back was the lack of trust that anyone living on the edge of survival developed. If she trusted the person offering her safety, then what reason would she have had to refuse?

And yet, clearly, Moran had her reasons.

The door to the basement opened before Kaylin could touch it, but at this point, such things didn’t spook her. She wasn’t looking forward to dealing with angry, blue-eyed Teela, and that was dread enough.

“She isn’t angry,” Helen said.

“Fine. Scared or worried Teela. In case it’s not obvious, that’s worse.”

“She should be worried. I am worried myself. Annarion can be contained; he is struggling to control impulses of which he is only barely aware. If he decides that they are no longer a concern—or a primary concern—I do not think I can keep him here without harming him.

“And no, Kaylin, quite aside from your own concerns, that is not what I wish. He knows the debt he owes you and the people of your city. Teela has made that quite clear.”

“But that wasn’t his fault—”

“Fault? Perhaps not. But he cannot claim ignorance a second time. It is only the terrible sense of guilt at what transpired that has kept him here these three weeks. He has worked without stop. But he cannot completely contain his fear.”

Fear for Nightshade.

*

Teela was blue-eyed and stiff as a board; absent was the usual sense of grace that even motionless Barrani naturally exuded.

To Kaylin’s eyes, Annarion was not in anything resembling a jail cell. He was sitting in the middle of the room—a Barrani room, by the look of the furnishings—his eyes the same color as Teela’s. Mandoran was beside him, arms folded, shoulders slumped. There was a window in the far wall. The view outside it looked very quiet and very peaceful.

It was the only thing in the room that was the latter.

Kaylin took a chair, because there just happened to be one that suited her. Whether it had existed in the seconds before she opened the door, she didn’t know, and it didn’t really matter. “Teela told you about our morning.” Teela’s glare drilled the side of her face, but Kaylin continued, “I still can’t reach your brother. I can’t hear him. But I don’t think he’s dead.”

“On what are you basing that assumption?” Annarion asked.

“Instinct.” She had a clear idea how much he valued mortal instinct, but he was better behaved than Mandoran and kept his thoughts to himself. “Did Teela also tell you about our visit to the Keeper?”

Mandoran lifted a dark brow. “No.”

“And you didn’t notice we were there?”

“Teela’s pretty good at keeping things to herself. What were you doing at the Keeper’s?”