“Which, you must admit, is not difficult.”
“It is not difficult for Rosen to offend anyone.”
Elluvian chuckled.
“I heard that.” Rosen’s voice drifted into the back of the office. She had always had exceptional hearing, and her injuries had not changed that.
“I am not the person who voiced that opinion,” Elluvian said.
“You’re not discouraging it, either.”
“It is materially true.”
He could hear her snort; so could Garadin. Only one of them found it amusing. Time passed. Garadin maintained the connection. Severn remained closeted with Helmat. Rosen took a mirror transmission of her own, and then another.
Eventually, the mirror’s view widened to encompass two people. A young woman had joined Garadin. Her hair was the color of pale honey, but her eyes were not green; they were gold. She was not afraid, nor was she worried or angry. “My apologies for forcing you to wait,” she said, executing a bow that implied that she was his social inferior. It was a human bow. “I was not in a location to which the mirror network has easy access.”
“This,” Garadin said, “is Elluvian of Danarre. He serves the Imperial Wolves.”
Some hazel clouded the gold of the woman’s eyes. She could not, however, be surprised; she had known, before rushing to Garadin’s side from wherever it was she had been, who he was.
“And this,” Garadin continued, even more stiffly, “is Ybelline. She is a member of the Tha’alanari.”
“I do not believe I have encountered her in previous duty rounds.”
“I have been admitted to the Imperial Service within the last two years.”
“You are new, then?”
Garadin looked offended. Ybelline, however, did not. “No. I have been a part of the Tha’alanari since my coming of age.”
“Forgive me, but was that recent?”
She laughed. “By your standards? It could not possibly be anything else. But by our standards, no.”
“What are your duties—” He caught Garadin’s darkening eyes, and bowed. “Apologies, Ybelline. I have spent so much time with mortals that I occasionally speak my mind.”
“It is not customary among your kin,” she replied, still smiling, “at least not in my experience.”
He wanted to ask her what that experience entailed, but did not. “You have questions about our possible candidate.”
“I do.”
“Why?”
“Because I have asked permission to fill in the gap in our schedule.”
“You have not...”
“No. I have not served the Wolves before. But I have served. I understand the risks.” She glanced at Garadin and added, “Most of our work involves humans, and I am considered young by their standards.”
“And by your own race, surely?”
“Not in the same fashion. Youth frequently lacks authority to you. But it is understood among my kin that I am an authority. I do not have to argue or fight for the respect due my abilities; it is granted because it is clear to the Tha’alani that I possess them.”
He nodded then. “If you are offering to vet our recruit at a time of...trial to the Tha’alanari, you would have our gratitude, for what that is worth.”
Her smile was like bright, unfettered sun—but full of warmth, not scorching heat. “I will make my way to the Halls of Law immediately.” She left the mirror’s view, and the image once again shifted until it contained only Garadin.
“She is of great import to us,” Garadin said. His eyes were almost, but not quite, blue, a color that Tha’alani eyes did not adopt. “I wish you to understand this, Elluvian. She will be, in future, Rabon’alani. She will be our leader, our lord in your terminology. Any harm done her will bring incalculable harm to my people.”
“Then why are you allowing her—”
“She will be castelord. The time is coming when ‘allow’ will no longer apply to her movements.”
“And the current castelord?”
Garadin could have said it was caste business, because it was. Instead he said, “We are not Barrani. We are not human. There is no war for succession, and no great power accrues from the leadership itself. She will carry more of the weight of our fears and our hopes than any save our current leader, and he has done all he can to ease her passage into that burden. And no, he is not dying—but he is older, and he is weary. We would take him back into the heart of the people while he still lives; we would give him peace.”
“I am almost surprised that you chose to mention this.”
“I wish to make certain that there is no doubt whatsoever of her import. If you feel that your recruit is too broken, do not ask her to investigate the depths of his darkness. I will trust you in this.”
“You will not.”
“I will. You understand the burden we carry better than other mortals understand it. If you feel she will be at risk, mirror again. I will perform in her stead.”
“Is she not coming because you cannot?” Silence, then. “You have already lost Timorri.”
Garadin’s impatience was clear. “As I just said—”
“This loss—was it caused by the discovery of information about the Tha’alani?”
Garadin’s eyes were green. Had he been Barrani, they would have been indigo.
“Did Timorri contain his discoveries?”
After a long pause, Garadin exhaled. “I will not play games with you. His discoveries—and the visceral response to them—have been entirely contained within the Tha’alanari. That is our duty.”
“I do not believe Lord Marlin will be pleased with your choice of agent. If she is of import, I think it unwise to have you take that risk.”
“It was Ybelline who managed to contain Timorri’s impressions. Were it not for her intervention, he would be lost to us on two fronts. He cannot serve as Tha’alanari, but he survives to return to our people. I will leave you. I have said either too much or not nearly enough.”
* * *
Helmat left the confines of his safe but intimidating office at the side of the applicant. Severn did not seem to find this unusual, but the office—never loud or boisterous—fell into the silence produced when all of the people in it were straining to hear anything that might be said. In the offices occupied by the Swords, and the less numerous Hawks, silence was never complete; in the lamentable confines of Missing Persons, Helmat was certain that only instant obliteration would achieve that goal.