Chapter 10

10

Helen, mindful of Kaylin's extreme dislike of door wards, had created a wardless door. Evanton knocked on it, and Kaylin answered. He was wearing an actual jacket with matching pants, a shirt, and shiny shoes. She blinked. What had she expected? Evanton in his working apron, with a jeweler's glass glued to his eye?

"I apologize for being a bit late; the garden was unusually active today."

"You're not late," she said, moving out of the doorway. "Come in. Oh, I think I should warn you. Our entire household was so excited about meeting the Keeper in person that everyone who lives here is joining us for dinner."

"Ah."

"And Bellusdeo."

Evanton, living up to his reputation as a man who did not desire social company, turned to Helen. "If I visit again, I would prefer not to do so for dinner."

"They understand what the Keeper is," Kaylin told him. "They're going to treat you with respect."

"There are many questions I cannot—or will not—answer. I hope respect precludes aggressive curiosity."

"This," Kaylin said, as they entered the room, "is Evanton. He's the current Keeper of the elemental garden."

Everyone—except Mrs. Erickson—rose. Mrs. Erickson followed, noticing that all of the others had left their chairs. Kaylin exhaled. She hated formality, because she was so bad at it; she wanted to tell the cohort to sit when their names were called, because she had to introduce them all, and Evanton might have some chance of remembering their names. Evanton, being human, if not exactly mortal, had a normal person's memory.

"These are my housemates. Sedarias An'Mellarionne, Terrano Allasarre, Annarion Solanace, Mandoran Cassarre, Allaron Boranin, Torrisant Immolan, Fallessian Torcannon, Karian Reymar. Bellusdeo, you already know. And this is Mrs. Imelda Erickson."

"Pleased to meet you," Mrs. Erickson said, smiling.

The rest of the cohort offered Evanton deep bows; Terrano's was sloppier than the others as he seemed distracted.

"Teela is good friends with them, but she's busy tonight, so she won't be joining us."

"Unless something catches metaphorical fire," Terrano added, grinning.

There must have been some law of nature that kept Terrano's and Sedarias's moods balanced; when he grinned, she frowned.

Evanton's seat was at the head of the table, not exactly close to Mrs. Erickson's. Helen didn't rearrange the seats—and the people sitting in them—to change that.

To Kaylin's surprise, Evanton started the conversation. "I admit I'm surprised to see that Kaylin has so many housemates. How did you meet her?"

Silence gathered at the table; Kaylin was certain the cohort were now having an interior group discussion about how to answer that question. Terrano even opened his mouth three times but shut it without ejecting words.

It was Sedarias who answered. "We met in the West March. Kaylin had been sent there to participate in a rite known to the Barrani as the regalia ." This was a highly sanitized version of the events that had led Kaylin to the West March, but Kaylin understood why; she had no desire to correct it.

Evanton nodded. "It is not normally a rite offered to mortals." His answer surprised Kaylin; it made clear that Evanton knew about the regalia .

"It is not. If you know Kaylin at all, you know she frequently crosses lines she cannot perceive." Sedarias's smile was reserved, but genuine.

"Oh, I do. I absolutely do. She has certainly interfered with the garden in the past few years, denying me the peace and quiet of a tranquil sunset. I'm not certain the marks of the Chosen are not responsible for much of her interference. It is probably why she has managed to survive."

"She interfered with the garden?"

"She added another element to the whole."

Every set of blue eyes turned to Kaylin.

"It was that or have the world end," Kaylin said.

"Indeed," Evanton agreed, smiling. "But she met you in the West March? All of you?"

"We were imprisoned in the Hallionne there," Sedarias spoke slowly, as if measuring each word. "She freed us. But our period of confinement had been many centuries, and the world itself was not the world from which we had been sequestered. We are grateful that she offered us a home, and that Helen was willing to allow it. We are all exceedingly fond of Helen."

"I found them because of Teela," Kaylin added. She found lies—even lies of omission—difficult because it meant she had to sift every word before she actually spoke. "They were Teela's only childhood friends. Or her only surviving friends."

"And how long have you been resident in our fair city?"

Sedarias answered this more readily. "Not long. These days have been much occupied with the High Halls; they have been radically altered—although some merely say they have been restored."

"I was aware of the change—it was quite sudden." His gaze narrowed as it once again returned to Kaylin. "Perhaps, at a later time, you can tell me the story around that restoration, for I perceive that you understand why the change occurred."

Terrano rolled his eyes.

"And, Mrs. Erickson, forgive me if I seem intrusive, but I would be interested to know how you met Kaylin as well. I assume she did not free you from a prison."

Mrs. Erickson nodded.

To Kaylin's surprise, Helen brought food into the dining room. Usually she just caused plates to magically appear, but today she was determined to be more formal. She began—at the head of the table—to put plates in front of the various diners.

Mrs. Erickson wasn't raised with fourteen forks and spoons and knives, but she didn't look too intimidated. Kaylin did, but she'd learned manners—with Bellusdeo—and could now eat without using the wrong utensil, even if she resented the need for all of them. A fork was a fork, right? Why did there have to be so many of them?

Why could Severn use all of them so naturally he might have been born with utensils in his hands?

"I first met Kaylin in the Halls of Law," Mrs. Erickson said, smiling. She liked the Halls of Law. Kaylin loved her job, but conversely didn't love the office as much as a lonely old woman whose only friends were ghosts had. "I visited the front desk frequently."

"The front desk?"

"It's the desk where the officers listen to the concerns of private citizens." Mrs. Erickson looked at her food, and then looked at how others were eating before picking up a small fork.

Kaylin expanded Mrs. Erickson's overly positive explanation. "It's where people report vampire sightings, werewolf sightings, missing dogs, cats, and the occasional person. Oh, also arguments with neighbors over fences, in the hope that there's no further crime that will need to be investigated."

"You met Kaylin while she occupied that desk? And you befriended her?"

Mandoran and Terrano snickered; even Bellusdeo's eyes lightened, although they wouldn't reach full gold this evening.

Mrs. Erickson's smile was gentle. "Of course I did. She's a Hawk, and she takes her duties seriously. And I suppose I should confess that I was there to report the findings of my various ghostly friends as well."

"Which no one took seriously, I assume."

"There were few occasions when my reports would be considered urgent—but Kaylin did take my concerns seriously."

"She just wanted the baking," Mandoran pointed out. "Mrs. Erickson is a really good baker, and she always brought baked goods with her when she made her reports."

"Oh, it's not just that—the Hawks were very helpful. I broke my leg, and I live alone—it was the Hawks who came to check in on me when I didn't show up."

"And how—if it is not too intrusive to ask—did you come to live with Kaylin?"

Mrs. Erickson glanced at Kaylin, as if for permission.

"I asked her if she was willing to live with Helen and me."

"Not the rest of us?" Terrano's grin was practically contagious.

"I may have forgotten to mention it's a package deal."

"I'm quite happy to be living with all of you," Mrs. Erickson said, smiling. "And Kaylin asked me to join her because she thought I would benefit from Helen's company."

"And that is the only reason you chose to accept?"

The silence was brief, but it was clear Mrs. Erickson was now less comfortable. She once again looked to Kaylin. This time Kaylin kept her voice soft as she spoke to her newest housemate. "Everyone in the house knows already. Bellusdeo knows. I'm sure Sanabalis—ugh, the Arkon—would discuss the matter with Evanton if Evanton could be moved to visit the Imperial Palace."

Evanton's snort made clear that this wasn't going to happen anytime in the near future.

"It's a bit of a long story," Mrs. Erickson then said. "And if everyone else already knows it, I'd hate to take up their time by repeating it."

"I'm certain they won't find it boring," Evanton replied, his tone taking on some of the steel he reserved for difficult customers.

"I won't," Terrano said.

"I wouldn't mind hearing it from a rational point of view," Mandoran added. "I mean yours, in case that wasn't obvious. Kaylin swears too much."

Mrs. Erickson's smile deepened. "Well, she is a Hawk."

Evanton did eat, but his gaze was now focused on Mrs. Erickson. She had one of nature's quiet voices. If the cohort had not fallen silent, it would have been harder to hear what she had to say.

She spoke about the children first: Jamal, Esmeralda, Callis, Katie. Evanton nodded; he did not interrupt her almost nostalgic musing. Only when she spoke of the beautiful artist who had painted the Swindon family's portrait did his eyes narrow, but he nodded regardless.

Mrs. Erickson, having spent so much of her time telling stories of her daily life to the children trapped in her house, had a good sense of narrative. When Kaylin tried to tell people what had happened, she often had to backtrack, to fill in things she hadn't mentioned earlier. Most people did. Mrs. Erickson didn't.

"Kaylin got involved because some of your friends—friends that no one else could see—were interested in her Corporal Handred."

"Yes. But Kaylin could see them, and she didn't think they were ghosts." Mrs. Erickson's smile deepened. "They were worried that Severn was somehow a servant to Azoria, but they didn't say that at the time."

Severn, as usual, said nothing.

"Pardon me for interrupting. Please continue."

"I think Kaylin will have to tell this part of the story," Mrs. Erickson replied, almost apologetically.

"It's what eventually led us to Azoria An'Berranin," Kaylin said. "Because the two Barrani we met weren't dead; they were trapped, their bodies separate from the rest of them in paintings Azoria had created when she lived in the High Halls. The detritus of her life there had been preserved by the High Halls itself. But we believe she was capable of creating those odd pocket cells because she had tapped into the power that the High Halls—that any sentient building—uses to create and sustain themselves."

"And Kaylin believed the children in your home were ghosts."

Mrs. Erickson nodded.

"They were ghosts whose bodies died some ten to fifteen years after they did," Kaylin added.

"Pardon?"

"Something else possessed those bodies. We're not certain if it was Azoria, although that's the most likely. Each of the four bodies eventually met their end through the justice system; they had, to a person, murdered their families. Before that, they'd been caught for breaking and entering, petty theft."

"I see. Please, continue."

This was the hardest part for Mrs. Erickson, but Kaylin thought it was possibly the most important. "Kaylin believed that I had magical potential." She said this as her shoulders began to sink. "I'd been tested, as an older child. The results of that test were negative."

"Why were you tested?"

She tensed but shook her head. "My parents—my mother—thought I might have talent."

"For what reason?"

"I don't know." Her voice was very small now. "But I was told I didn't, and I went home. Kaylin, many decades later, disagreed with the testing. I went to the Imperial College," she added, as if that meant anything.

Evanton's expression matched Kaylin's for a brief moment.

"Kaylin's a Hawk. The Halls of Law works with mages from the Imperial College. She approached a member of the college—one of the Dragon Court. I believe he is now the current Arkon. The Arkon agreed to reassess my possible abilities."

"It is difficult to say no to the corporal when she very earnestly pursues a goal. I have tried, in my time. Very well. The Arkon chose to test you personally."

"Yes."

"And his conclusion?"

Mrs. Erickson once again fell silent. This time, when she looked to Kaylin, Kaylin could see the ghost of a young girl in her eyes. Afraid of being judged. Afraid of being useless or disappointing. It made Kaylin wonder if anyone could ever outgrow those feelings.

She once again took over. "The test wasn't finished. It wasn't really started. When Mrs. Erickson entered the room in which the tests would be done, she found new ghosts. They weren't human ghosts. They weren't ghosts of any race I'd recognize. They'd been trapped until they sensed Mrs. Erickson entering the room. And they possessed the Arkon."

Evanton, being human—at least to start—didn't have eyes that changed color; they did change shape as his brows rose.

"She didn't, obviously, tell them to possess a Dragon. But...they could. I'm not sure what would have happened if not for Mrs. Erickson's intervention; she could speak to them, they could hear her, and she could coax them out of Sanabalis. The Arkon wasn't keen on letting Mrs. Erickson return home—because the ghosts she'd talked into abandoning Sanabalis were now following her.

"But the Dragon Court is aware of Helen; Bellusdeo lived here until very recently. They trusted Helen with Bellusdeo's safety, and they didn't think Mrs. Erickson was an intentional threat. Sanabalis was willing to have Mrs. Erickson live with me."

"And the ghosts?"

"They live with me, too. The only person who can communicate with them is Mrs. Erickson."

"Tell me, Chosen, what did you see, if you saw the ghosts at all?" Evanton's question was somber.

Kaylin exhaled. "Words. True Words."

Evanton was silent as he considered what he'd been told. "Mrs. Erickson, I would like—if possible—to be introduced to your new friends."

The old woman was surprised. "I'm not sure you'll be able to see them. Kaylin can't, without her familiar's interference."

"But she could see the children clearly?"

Mrs. Erickson nodded. "She could speak with them as well. She could hear them."

"Do you see these ghosts as words?"

"No. They look like people to me. Younger people. They aren't as visually clear; to my eyes, they look like what ghosts would be expected to look like in stories. My usual ghosts looked like people to me—hair color, eye color, skin color."

"I see."

"But why are you asking?"

"Ah. Yes, I suppose I should answer that question, inasmuch as it can be answered. I am what the ancient world knew as the Keeper of the elemental garden. It is my duty to calm the elements upon which the stability of the world depends; the elements have will, and desires, as any living thing does. Left to their own devices, they would burn, drown, or bury everything in their need to display their primal abilities.

"The garden was created by the Ancients to contain the heart of the elements, and to allow them to coexist in relative peace. But the elements, if housed in the garden, are only theoretically constrained there; they exist in the world. Mages who summon them touch some part of their awareness.

"The elements are contained—but they are not the only things the garden can shelter. It is a liminal space; its edges touch the world in which we live, and the places in which elements of our world are based. The elements, as an example, are aware of the green in the West March; they are aware of the reformation of the High Halls; they are aware—peripherally—of Ravellon when it stirs.

"I, as Keeper, can be aware of those things, with greater or lesser effort. Often it is the restlessness of the elements that indicates that something has gone wrong or will soon go wrong. The ability to sense such things is a function of the office itself.

"The reason I wished to meet with you is a direct result of that. When Kaylin dropped by my store, she was accompanied by Lord Bellusdeo. Lord Bellusdeo is much occupied with concern for her dead. One thing led to another, but when Kaylin mentioned that she had a new housemate, I thought it possible that some of the uneasiness in the garden might be indirectly related to you.

"Let me emphasize that: indirectly. Kaylin can be very annoying at times, but her instincts are good. She clearly holds you in great affection. She does not consider you a threat or a danger; indeed I believe she feels that you should be protected from all threats or dangers. She therefore considers questions surrounding you and your abilities to be of lesser import unless those abilities might have immediate, pragmatic use. She is interested in solving Bellusdeo's difficulty, as an example.

"The name Azoria An'Berranin is not unknown to the elements, which is not generally considered a good sign, at least in my job. I believe there were perturbations caused by that woman, who I am assured is now dead. I would like to hear about that," he added.

Kaylin fell silent, joining Mrs. Erickson.

Terrano took up the rest of the story because no one else wanted to touch it. Kaylin's reasons were no doubt different from Mrs. Erickson's, but Evanton was right about one thing: she wanted to protect the old woman who baked for the Hawks and whose company Helen so enjoyed.

Terrano, however, hadn't seen everything Kaylin had seen.

He had, however, seen the dead Ancient.

So he could speak about the events—could speak about the trapped, enslaved dead that Azoria had gathered in the home that was magically attached to Mrs. Erickson's small bungalow. He could speak about Azoria's end. He could not speak about Mrs. Erickson's promise to Jamal, or rather, her attempt to get him to make an exception.

That promise, Kaylin didn't know—but given events, she was certain her guess was right. Mrs. Erickson had promised, sometime in her childhood, not to command the dead. Not to use the power of command. It was the one thing Kaylin didn't want anyone else to know—not yet. Not when the question of Necromancy hung in the balance.

Evanton listened without interruption and without further questions. All of the interruptions came from the cohort as they tried to add clarity to Terrano's chaos. Both Mrs. Erickson and Kaylin kept words to themselves until Terrano was done.

Evanton's gaze had moved from speaker to speaker, but when Terrano was finished, it returned to Mrs. Erickson. "You have not, by chance, sold your house?"

Mrs. Erickson shook her head.

"Very well. If it is acceptable to you, I would like—with your company, of course—to visit that house."

Mrs. Erickson seemed surprised, but not upset. "It would have to be in the evening—Kaylin has work during business hours. Oh, but she said you had a store, so you must as well."

Evanton could close the store at will, and frequently did; Kaylin often wondered why he bothered to run a shop. Then again, she had daggers that made no sound at all as they were drawn from their sheaths, courtesy of Evanton's store. Teela had taken her there, the first time; it would be years before Evanton's store became part of her regular beat. When she'd first started tagging along with the Hawks, she'd shadowed Teela and Tain—and the Barrani didn't get put on Elani.

She shook her head. "When did you have in mind?"

"Tomorrow," was Evanton's prompt reply.

"I'd like to join you," Bellusdeo said. She had spoken very little, absorbed in listening.

Evanton frowned. "I am uncertain that it will prove of interest to you." This was the polite way of saying no.

"I am certain it will," Bellusdeo replied, rejecting the rejection. She smiled.

"If she's going, I'm going," Terrano then said, his grin deflecting the glare Bellusdeo turned on him.

"It really isn't very interesting," Mrs. Erickson told them both, her hands in her lap, her head slightly bowed.

Terrano shrugged. "I've seen at least half of it before. It was certainly interesting then. Serralyn asks, if we're taking visitors, if she can join us as well."

"Of course!" Mrs. Erickson said, clearly pleased at the prospect.

Evanton's expression had become his front desk why-are-you-bothering-me-now look. But he accepted what he could not easily change—not without argument. "Fine. I will come here tomorrow to pick up Mrs. Erickson."

When Evanton excused himself—early, as he was an "old man" who required some rest—Bellusdeo hung back. The cohort dispersed. Mrs. Erickson remained by Bellusdeo's side until the hall contained the Dragon, Kaylin, and the old woman.

"Are they still crying?" Bellusdeo asked Mrs. Erickson, when the last of the cohort were out of sight. Being out of sight guaranteed nothing where Terrano was concerned, but Kaylin assumed the gold Dragon knew this.

"No, dear."

"Are they happy?"

Mrs. Erickson shook her head. "It's hard to get them to speak much, but... I think they are at least now aware of each other."

"Are they aware of me?"

"They're aware that you exist, they're aware that you are alive. But they feel as if they can't reach you."

"They can't," was the Dragon's flat reply. "I've listened. I've tried to speak of what I remember of their lives—and mine, in case it lessens the sense of isolation. But I hear nothing. I see nothing." She exhaled. "Karriamis, the heart of my Tower, would like to meet you as well, but says it isn't urgent. Nothing he has done—and Towers are far, far more flexible than I had initially realized—has allowed me to see or converse with my dead.

"I understand that the Keeper's concerns take precedence." Bellusdeo swallowed. She opened her mouth, but no further words followed.

"Kaylin works during the day, but I don't," Mrs. Erickson told the gold Dragon, her voice gentle. "If you want to visit, I'm sure Helen would be happy to see you, and I would be happy to try to further converse with your sisters."

Bellusdeo nodded. "I just—I want to know why they're in so much pain. If I understood it..."

"I'm used to talking with ghosts," Mrs. Erickson said, placing a hand on Bellusdeo's shoulder, as if the taller Dragon were the frailer person. "I do miss it, sometimes. Perhaps you could visit tomorrow during the day, while Kaylin and Evanton are occupied with work."

Bellusdeo nodded.

Kaylin lay in bed in the dark, staring in the direction of the ceiling.

"This is so messy," she said.

Hope, seated on his pillow, squawked.

"Do you know what Evanton is afraid of?"

Squawk.

"I just don't want anything bad to happen to Mrs. Erickson. The rest of us are used to fighting; we're trained for it. And we're not physically fragile. She can't be the source of Evanton's worry. She just can't."

Squawk.

"She can't, can she?" Kaylin turned on her side and poked Hope. "Can you keep her safe?"

Hope failed to answer. She'd grown accustomed to the familiar; his squawks, while wordless, had tone. His silences had texture. "Is protecting one old lady something I have to make sacrifices for?"

The air around the familiar grew cold, as if the translucent form was now composed of ice. She could see mist in the air as the cold expanded.

You understand the danger , Hope said. She is like a tidal wave, an earthquake. Knowledge will not change the threat she poses.

"But she doesn't! I swear she's never hurt a freaking fly—she'd probably try to catch it and let it go outside her house!"

Yes. That is your conflict. But you know that she is a Necromancer. You saw it, when she commanded Azoria. She has that power, and it is bound and contained by a promise she made to a dead child. If those children were sent to watch her, to spy on her, they grew attached to her, and it is because they did that she never dreamed of becoming what she might become.

"That promise holds weight to her."

Yes. But, Kaylin, promises can be broken in emergencies. Promises can be broken when the cost of keeping them seems, in the moment, too high. Think. There is a reason Azoria was interested in Mrs. Erickson. There is an Ancient who claims he is dead living or standing in Azoria's figurative backyard.

There are ghosts who can possess Dragons—the Arkon, in fact. These would be at her control; they would obey her, should she choose to give them commands.

If you wished to keep Mrs. Erickson safe, agreeing to accompany her to her home with the Keeper in attendance was not the wisest option. But if you wish to keep the rest of the world safe—as the Keeper does—it might be necessary.

"Starrante didn't mention Necromantic activity in the few stories he found credible."

No. And you have gone out of your way to hide what you believe.

"I have no proof."

Mrs. Erickson understands that the abilities Jamal sealed by her promise are dangerous enough that she, too, has failed to mention them. Terrano, you will note, edited his account slightly to leave out the one salient point. I believe the cohort is fond of Mrs. Erickson; they know you are.

Kaylin was now cold, but that was purely physical. She wrapped herself more tightly in her blankets before she continued. "Could she somehow use that ability—the ability to command the dead, rather than communicate with them—to somehow free Bellusdeo's sisters?"

Hope was silent for long enough, she thought he wouldn't answer. Perhaps, but the question you must ask yourself is: Will removing the dead injure—or kill—Bellusdeo?

"She's alive."

She is. But she is alive because of your intervention. What you did defied common sense; it is accepted because you are Chosen. Perhaps Bellusdeo is whole because you bound the dead—dead you could not see yourself—to her. If you unbind the dead, will her name survive?