“I disagree.” Morningstar swirled his wine. “I tried to hire Master Yarl decades ago when he was a graduate student at Faraday College. A professor friend recommended him. I had gone through several secretaries and was struggling to fill the position.”
“Six in one year, if I recall,” Yarl added.
The corner of Morningstar’s mouth twitched. “Yarl had just returned his dissertation, demanding points be taken off for a grammatical error that the teaching assistant had missed. My friend said he might actually be more irritating than I am.”
Cathrynne choked on her wine. Her eyes watered, but she managed to swallow. “Fine,” she croaked. “Go on.”
Morningstar was staring at her, which only made it worse. “However,” he continued, “Yarl refused my offer.”
“I had other interests,” Yarl explained. “My area of research was Sinn physiology and behavior. I was passionate about pursuing field work.”
Cathrynne went still. She glanced at Morningstar, but he had looked away.
“After graduation,” Yarl continued in an animated tone, “I spent years traveling to every corner of the empire, studying the various species in their natural habitats. My first published article was on the dwarf mosswing of Kirith. Beautiful creatures with scales like autumn leaves.”
“You’ve actually seen one?” asked Mercy, the avid hiker.
Yarl nodded. “In fact, I am proud to say that my research helped promote conservation efforts. They’re protected by law in Kirith now.”
“As they should be,” Mercy replied firmly. “Damned poachers nearly drove them to extinction, selling the claws and teeth for quack potions.”
“Indeed,” Yarl said gravely. “It was a terrible crime.” He brightened. “I also studied the ringed skimmer found in marshlands. It mostly eats frogs. The spiny thresher and mottled shellback are both deepwater species. Those I only saw from afar. It wasn’t easy to convince a vessel to get close.” He leaned forward. “The great northerns of Sundland are the second-biggest. They delve through ice and snow and build tunnels that go for miles.”
“Which are the biggest?” Mercy asked.
“The blue emperors, of course,” Morningstar put in. “Glorious beasts with scales of molten silver and tongues like sapphires. They’re the ones that burned Kota Gelangi to the ground.”
The boyish enthusiasm in Yarl’s eyes dimmed. “I was one of the few to document their migration patterns. But then I got a bit too close. My own fault. I was young and terribly brave, and I’d gotten lucky for long enough that I was convinced of my own invulnerability.” He touched his pinned sleeve. “It cost me my left arm from the elbow down.”
“Wow,” Mercy said. “I’m sorry about that.”
“Thank you, but I consider myself fortunate,” Yarl replied. “Others who have met great northerns never lived to tell of it.” He paused to swallow a gulp of wine. “After the accident, I could have taught at Faraday, or any other university of my choice. But I wanted a fresh start. So I wrote to Lord Morningstar, who hired me at once.”
“I was still in need of a secretary,” Gavriel said dryly. “And my professor friend was right. We were perfectly suited for each other.”
Yarl winked. “That professor changed careers herself. She is now the consul of Kirith.”
“Cyranthe Dagan?” Mercy exclaimed.
“The very same.”
She grinned. “Now, that is a good story!”
“I still keep up with the literature,” Yarl said wistfully. “Much has been discovered in the last forty years, although we still know little about how they communicate or why they are so hostile. I had proposed that their aggression was a response to ours, but that provoked a firestorm of criticism.” He grinned. “No pun intended.”
Mercy began bombarding Yarl with questions. Did the aquatic Sinn breathe flames, and if so, could they do it underwater? Were the desert varieties truly growing immune to magic? Could a blue emperor derail a train if it wanted to?
Yarl answered each query with exhaustive detail. Morningstar added anecdotes of his own, having encountered various Sinn species during flights across the empire.
“Cathrynne? You look pale.”
Mercy’s voice broke through her reverie. She forced a smile. “Thank you, Yarl, for a delicious meal. I’m just tired. Still adjusting to the time difference, I guess. Leave some dishes in the sink, I’ll do them in the morning.” She turned to Mercy. “Can I have second watch?”
“Sure,” Mercy said gently.
Gavriel’s eyes met hers. Something in his level gaze suggested he understood her reticence.
“I regret that either of you must lose sleep over me,” he said. “So don’t worry about the dishes, I shall wash them myself.” He pushed his sleeves above his elbows and began collecting plates.
