“One problem at a time,” he murmured, leaving the room. For now, that problem was Kalai’s situation. If Doctor Erica could help rid him of the doroxian’s effect, Tauran would sleep considerably easier.
The streets were full of people despite the early hour. The weeks following the harvest celebrations, traders, farmers and sellers gathered in the city to haggle their wares and produce. The wait for an empty coach could be long, so Tauran opted to walk despite the pain in his leg. He wasn’t sure if it was worse than usual, or if he was imagining it. Fortunately, the number of people in the streets with things to do and places to go meant very few cast him more than a fleeting glance.
He avoided Lavender Square where the thickest crowds were, choosing instead the narrower, shaded alleyways in the direction of Lilypetal Street.
At first, when fleeting motions at the corners of his vision drew his attention, he discarded it as paranoia. But then he turned a corner and came face to face with a flustered guard who offered Tauran a clumsy salute and rushed down a side street. Tauran stared after him, then quickened his pace. He waited until the crowd thinned, then spun and feigned observing a pair of giggling young ladies walking past. A few paces away and to the right stood two guards. When they realized Tauran had turned toward them, they slipped away, disappearing behind a rosewort hedge.
It was indisputable. Falka had ordered him put under watch.
A part of Tauran felt irrationally hurt by this. Tauran had been loyal to the Sky Guard since the day he donned the uniform. It was the most honest work he could imagine, and he never hid that opinion from anybody, least of all Falka. Tauran could understand the need for caution, but Falka couldn’t seriously think Tauran a rebel for questioning his actions? The thought came to him that Falka might be losing his grasp on reality, seeing rebels left and right. It was a wild thought, but it chilled Tauran all the same. If that was the case, then both Albinus and the archivist could have been innocent.
Tauran resumed walking. It wasn’t illegal for him to meet with Kalai, so even if Falka did have guards following him, they would have nothing to report.
Reaching the old archive, Tauran tapped his knuckles against the front door, but it wasn’t Kalai who opened it.
A guard in black and silver stood in the doorway. He looked at Tauran, offered a salute and stepped aside.
Narrowing his eyes, Tauran walked in. Another guard stood on the other side of the door. Kalai sat on the floor in the center of the main room, bent over a pile of papers. He looked on edge, and his expression didn’t change when he raised his head and met Tauran’s eyes.
“Mister Darrica,” Kalai said. “Good of you to come by.”
“What’s with the security?” Tauran asked, angling his thumb over his shoulder.
Kalai rested his arms on his thighs. He looked worn, and there was an edge to his voice when he spoke. He already knew something was up. “General Falka has been so kind as to supply me with added security after some break-ins in the area.”
Tauran looked from Kalai to the guards. So he wasn’t the only one being watched. Tauran’s effort to avoid implicating Kalai had been in vain. “You can stand outside,” he told the guards.
“No can do, sir,” the guard on the right said. “General’s orders.”
Tauran’s heart skipped. He kept his face carefully neutral. “Fine. Do as you must. Mister Ro-Ani and I have a planned outing, we’ll be gone for an hour or two.”
Slowly, Kalai rose. He looked uncertain.
When Tauran reached the front door, he realized why. The guards stepped outside, following close on their heels.
Tauran clenched his jaw, trying to quench the frustration rising inside him. He spun to face the nearest guard. “What are you doing?”
“We have orders to follow Mister Ro-Ani wherever he goes.”
Of course they had. Break-in security? Bullshit. “Well, I’m giving you orders to stay behind.”
“Can’t do that, sir,” the guard said.
Tauran bit back a sharp remark, and instead said, “I outrank you. Considerably. And I’m armed and more than capable of ensuring Mister Ro-Ani’s safety.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” the guard said, face blank as a white canvas. “General’s orders.”
“They followed me to the bakery and back before you came,” Kalai said, quietly. “They take their job very seriously.”