Chapter 14

14

Helen was silent. Helen must have known. Mrs. Erickson was not adept at hiding her thoughts—why would she be?

Kaylin was silent for a different reason. She was faintly horrified, and it took her a moment to come back to herself. Mrs. Erickson was the woman who baked for the Hawks who were forced to endure the public desk; she was the woman who had stayed—alone—in her home because the children couldn't leave. She was quiet, gentle, and generous. She cared about people—even dead people.

Maybe her true gift was the ability to see what other people couldn't see; to listen, to acknowledge, and to speak with people when no one else could.

None of that involved animating corpses.

"Did your mother know about Tilly?"

Mrs. Erickson shook her head.

"But she knew about Jamal."

"Yes."

"And that's why she thought you had magical ability."

"Jamal could prove he existed, even if they couldn't see him. But you know how that turned out. I had a good life. I had a happy life. I found my husband—and he believed me; he said I was too earnest to lie." This time, her smile was simple, gentle. "The children liked him, eventually. But at the beginning? I was grateful he couldn't hear them. Jamal had so many questions he demanded I ask.

"They were suspicious of anyone who wasn't me—but I think that's because they were children: they were afraid that I would forget them or leave them, or worse, that he would take me away. They couldn't follow."

Kaylin listened quietly; she could imagine what Jamal had been like.

"I did make it clear to my husband that I couldn't abandon the house—and eventually, told him why. But he loved the idea that I had these four staunch guardians, and he felt that their questions—which were harsh—were fair. They did miss him, when he passed.

"I missed him. I didn't have anyone else among the living who knew about my ability until the day I met you." Her smile deepened. "I'm sure all the Hawks thought I was just a dotty, lonely old woman."

"Yes," Kaylin said. "But you were our dotty, lonely old woman. Maybe a little bit of a mascot—that's how I spent my first several years with the Hawks, except I was the official mascot. I was too young to be an officer." It was her turn to hesitate.

Hope squawked.

"When you entered Azoria's old place, what did you see? You said the building looked fuzzy, or ghostlike, to your eyes. Storybook ghosts, not real ones."

"Yes."

"That's not what upset you."

Mrs. Erickson took some time to gather her words. She'd had no problem with them while speaking of Jamal. "No. When Tilly died—when I refused to accept that she was dead—she was blurry to me. I believed it was because I was crying; I was crying a lot, and it's hard to see through watery eyes. I believed it until the moment we entered Azoria's home.

"But it wasn't that. That blurriness—it wasn't because of my tears. It wasn't that I couldn't see. It was that I could see the same strange glow—no, that's the wrong word, maybe cloud is better—in the foyer. It was clearest near the new statues, and faintest near the gallery. The statues were made of white stone, but the odd glow made them look like corpses. Had I done whatever I'd done to Tilly, I'm certain they would have moved."

"They did."

"Yes, but...they would have moved as I ordered them to move. But as we approached the end of the hall—the empty, large self-portrait—that cloud became almost all I could see.

"Somewhere, there's a body, a corpse, something, and it wants to be animated." Having said this, she slumped back in the chair, as if the words had been a colossal physical burden. "I'm sorry I couldn't tell you. I'm breaking a promise I made to Jamal by telling you now: it was important to him that no one ever know. I'd already experienced mockery and abuse for seeing ghosts; no one believed me, and everyone began to avoid me.

"Jamal said it would be far, far worse. I was young. I believed him. And, Kaylin, I still believe him. I wouldn't speak at all—and I don't think you'd try to force me to speak—if Evanton hadn't disappeared."

"How did you see Evanton?" Kaylin asked, keeping her voice as neutral, as even, as possible.

"When I met him here? He looked like a responsible gentleman."

Not the way Kaylin would have described him.

"Even when we entered Azoria's. All of you looked the same. Terrano may have looked a bit odd, but I think he did that on purpose."

"What did Evanton look like before he told us all to run?"

"I couldn't see him clearly."

"Did you see the light? The white light that seemed to explode out from where his hand touched the canvas?"

"Not as light, and not the way I saw the corporal's weapon."

"What did you see? What do you think caused the rest of us to flee?"

"The same fuzziness I saw in the foyer—but denser, thicker. That's what was spreading, to my eyes."

"And the statues?"

"I haven't seen a lot of corpses, you understand. People came to help me when my husband passed, and we had a very modest funeral. I wasn't certain anyone would come, but people did."

"Did he—I know this is difficult, and I'm sorry. But did your husband's body look like—like Tilly's to you?"

"Yes. Yes, it did. But I could never do to him—to my memories of him—what I did to Tilly. I was no longer a child. I understood the absolute difference between life and death where the body was concerned."

"I'm sorry—just one more question. I should let you sleep, but I'm afraid I'm going to get seconded to the Academia tomorrow once word of tonight's events gets out. Did Evanton look like Tilly or your husband at the end?"

"I don't know. The last I saw of him—and I wasn't facing the painting when Bellusdeo helped me leave—no. But he was surrounded by those clouds."

"The same clouds that made the statues glow?"

"That is not one more question," Helen said.

Kaylin grimaced. "Did the statues look like Tilly looked after you'd tried to wake her up?"

Mrs. Erickson nodded.

"Could you have put them to sleep again?"

"I don't know. The statues weren't obeying me; they didn't start to move because I told them to move. In Tilly's case, I just...stopped telling her what to do." She set her cup on the table. "What do you think happened to Evanton?"

"If you couldn't see him at the end, it's actually a good sign. That probably means he was sent to the outlands by the painting."

Mrs. Erickson did not make it down to breakfast by the time Kaylin had to leave for work. Mandoran did. Barrani didn't need much sleep—if any, at all—but Mandoran looked like sleep was possibly his best option. He rose when she did.

No mirror call had interrupted breakfast to let Kaylin know that the Halls of Law wasn't where she'd be working.

"I'll walk you to work."

She started to say no, stopped, and nodded. She wanted to ask about Terrano, and what Terrano had seen.

"He's not back yet, is he?"

Mandoran shook his head. His eyes were a darker than normal blue for him.

"Sedarias is worried."

"You have no idea." He winced. "You spoke with Mrs. Erickson?"

"She didn't see much; it's hard to look carefully when you're being carried by a running Dragon."

"Fair enough."

"But I think Evanton is in the outlands. Azoria had a portal in her self-portrait that led straight there. I know that sentient buildings like Helen are partially rooted in the outlands; it's from the outlands that they draw their godlike ability to create at desire or need within their boundaries."

"You think Azoria was trying to become a sentient building?"

"No. Helen likes what she does, but she can't leave. If people don't come to her, she can't interact with them. I can't imagine Azoria would be willing to cage herself that way. But it's possible that was what she was trying to create."

"You require a living being to become the heart of a sentient building; the building is alive," Mandoran pointed out.

"Yes—but the living person doesn't have to be Immortal. They don't have to possess purely personal power. One of the Hallionne was constructed around a mortal, and I think the Tower of Tiamaris was also built the same way. If I knew nothing at all about sentient buildings, I'd assume you'd want to build on power, that you'd need someone Barrani or draconic. Experience with sentient buildings has made clear this isn't true." Kaylin frowned. "But only the Ancients possessed the ability to create a sentient building—I don't think any of the buildings I've spoken with were created any other way."

Mandoran shrugged. "Anything I've heard about Azoria implies she didn't accept limitations. If it could be done, she'd try."

"As long as she wasn't the one dying."

"Look, her name—and her line—are practically forbidden in the High Halls, her crime was considered so great. We know she was initially obsessed with the Lake of Life—she wanted to find her dead sister's name and somehow revive her. At least that's the story."

"I don't think, by the end, she was thinking about her sister at all."

"No. But she must have seen, or thought she'd seen, power. She was supposed to be smart, right? She knew that every individual word could literally bring a Barrani child to life. We don't think about it a lot. I mean, we've had our names for the entirety of our lives; they're not distinct or separate from us. It's why the Consort is almost never a political target—unless there's another Consort waiting in the wings. Then it can get ugly.

"But people don't understand how the Lake chooses a Consort. It's too risky. Azoria didn't care about risk."

"She clearly didn't care much about anyone but herself. And she's dead and she's still causing problems." Kaylin's frown deepened.

"Did Mrs. Erickson say anything about the dead? Azoria's not still haunting her home, is she?"

"If she is, Mrs. Erickson didn't see her." Kaylin looked down the street at the Halls of Law they were quickly approaching. "I have to head into work."

Mandoran nodded. "I'll just wait here."

"What, in the middle of the street?"

"Home's less safe at the moment; Sedarias is unhappy. If Terrano does make it back, she's likely to strangle him, or come close. Never make Sedarias worry."

"I'm not one of the people she worries about," Kaylin said, smiling broadly.

"Teela does."

"I don't know what you've been doing lately," Tanner, who was on door duty, said. "But it's good you're not late today."

Kaylin cringed. "Ironjaw?"

"He's going to need a new desk by lunchtime, according to Caitlin."

When dealing with angry Leontine, forewarned wasn't forearmed. Unless you could just run for the hills. Since she couldn't, she approached the inner office with a growing sense of dread. Angry bosses were bad. Angry Leontine bosses were worse. It was the bristling fur and exposed fangs. And claws.

Marcus had never killed anyone in the office since she'd been part of it; killing subordinates was illegal, and Marcus was a Hawk. But his territorial instincts sometimes made work less comfortable—unless upper-level bureaucrats were trying to shove something down their throats, in which case you could comfortably hide behind him.

Caitlin was right: it would be time to go desk shopping again.

"Corporal Neya. I see you're on time."

"Yes, sir." She moved to stand in front of his desk. There were fewer piles of paper on it; there were more on the floor nearest the desk legs.

"You're aware that your personal life should never interfere with your duties."

"Yes, sir."

"And your personal activities should not bring the Hawks into disrepute."

"Yes, sir."

"Apparently you've forgotten these rules. Corporal Handred!" He roared.

Severn came from around Marcus's desk to join Kaylin; he was less stiff.

"Your services have been requested by the Imperial Court."

Ugh.

"Apparently one of your evening jaunts—in your personal life—has caused what amounts to panic in the Imperial Court. The Dragon who currently oversees his fancy school and the Dragon that in theory oversees your magical studies have said that your current duties are now irrelevant ."

Kaylin didn't wince, but it took effort. She made no attempt to correct him, although she was certain Sanabalis had said no such thing.

It was Severn who spoke. "How long will the Imperial Court require our services?"

"Until," Marcus growled, "the situation is resolved."

Which meant they had no idea.

"The Lord of Hawks has been informed?"

"He wants to see you both before you leave."

"Corporal Handred has also been seconded?"

"Obviously." To Kaylin's great relief, Marcus didn't ask her why she was being temporarily transferred. "You need someone who can keep you out of trouble."

Kaylin exercised her linguistic skills as they climbed the stairs to the Hawklord's tower. Severn was sympathetic, but silent.

Remember the tower's acoustics.

"I don't care if they hear me. Marcus is practically blaming me, and none of this is my fault. It's Azoria's fault, and she's already beyond the reach of the law."

If we can't resolve it—as Marcus put it—there's no way Mrs. Erickson is going to be allowed to stay with you and Helen.

That was a bucket of cold water.

It's in her interests—and therefore both yours and Helen's—that we find Evanton and return things to a semblance of normal. We've just been given the opportunity to do that during working hours as well as off hours.

"I bet Mandoran knew. Somehow."

"Oh?"

"He said he'd wait outside the Halls of Law."

"He probably wanted to avoid Sedarias. If he's not there when we depart, it means Terrano managed to make his way home." Severn's eyes narrowed.

Kaylin's didn't; she could see that the doors to the Hawklord's room were already open. At least there were some things today she could be grateful for. Sadly, the tower's acoustics weren't one of them.

"I see you arrived in the office on time." The Hawklord gestured and both corporals entered his office; the doors closed at their backs. "You've no doubt heard about your deployment."

Kaylin nodded.

"The sergeant was informed that the matter was highly sensitive. I am not certain he believed it, given your involvement."

"He meant it was an emergency, sir."

"The Dragon Court seemed to think so. The Emperor in particular. He messaged me, personally, first thing this morning."

"I just got in!"

"I arrive far earlier than most of the office. Tell me, in your own words, what the emergency is."

"We went out with Evanton last night."

"We?"

"Severn, Lord Bellusdeo, some of the cohort, and me."

"And?"

"Mrs. Erickson, one of my housemates."

"I suggest that you do not attempt to lie by omission, Corporal. I have had a trying morning. You are aware of Evanton's function, yes?"

"He's the Keeper. Sir."

"And he was with you for a reason?"

"He insisted." She exhaled. "He insisted on accompanying Mrs. Erickson and me to Mrs. Erickson's former home."

"And the rest of your crew? Corporal Handred?"

"I offered to accompany them."

"Lord Bellusdeo?"

"She has personal reasons for being interested in Mrs. Erickson, and she wanted to make sure that no harm came to her. Sir."

"Very well. Why did Evanton insist on this visit?"

"You're aware that Mrs. Erickson is unusual."

"I have been aware that she is unusual for longer than you have been alive."

"Unusual in a different way. All those endless reports she made about things ghosts told her? They were true. Ghosts did tell her those things."

"And ghosts are largely mundane."

"Largely, sir. I think she has magical potential. Lord Sanabalis agreed. But he considered that potential both unusual and dangerous."

The Hawklord's brows rose.

"He chose to let Mrs. Erickson move in with me."

"Because your house is a sentient building."

She nodded. "But I thought Helen would like Mrs. Erickson. And she does. They probably spend way more time just talking and having tea than Helen and I do. And Mrs. Erickson uses the kitchen—she loves it. Look—she'd've been very lonely in her home."

"She's lived in it for all her life. What changed?"

"The ghosts she could see left. They've been her company. They stopped her from becoming lonely. She came to the Halls of Law because she wanted to have something to tell them. She's not dangerous. She's not."

"Tell me why Evanton wished to visit her house."

Kaylin swallowed. "He was looking for something. No, I don't know what—do you honestly think he'd tell me? He said the garden was becoming more chaotic; the elements were unsettled. It's happened before, and usually when it does, it means something big is about to go down. He knew of Azoria An'Berranin. When he found out that she'd lived invisibly beside Mrs. Erickson's house, he wanted to see it."

"He felt that something Azoria had done had caused unrest in the elemental garden?"

"Yes, sir."

"Very well." The Hawklord's eyes were pure blue—and blue was not a happy Aerian color. "Lord Sanabalis, on behalf of the Emperor, has summoned you to the palace. You will work at his behest as if he were the Emperor himself. If Evanton returns to his storefront, Lord Sanabalis will rescind his request. Not a moment before.

"If he does not, things will be far more dire than the Halls of Law can handle. We are trusting you, Corporal. I have been assured that your particular brand of diplomacy will not be made an issue. Do not cross the line."

"Yes, sir."

"How'd it go?" Clint asked, glancing at Tanner.

"What was the bet?" Kaylin's expression was sour.

Clint chuckled. "No bet."

"Well, Ironjaw definitely needs a new desk; Caitlin was right about that. And Severn and I been seconded to the Imperial Palace. Where we're going now."

Tanner whistled. "He'll definitely need a new desk. Depending on how long you'll be off your beat, he might need a few."

Mandoran grinned when he caught sight of Kaylin and Severn as they exited the Halls of Law. "Where are we headed?"

"Severn and I are headed to the Imperial Palace; you're welcome to join us."

Severn glanced at her.

He won't. None of the cohort enter the palace except Teela—and she only goes if her job demands it. I wouldn't have made the suggestion if it were Terrano; he'll go anywhere.

Mandoran shrugged. "I'll keep you company on the way. Sedarias says Bellusdeo dropped by the house after you left for work. She's talking to Helen now—I don't know if she intends to speak with Mrs. Erickson. Also: her eyes are an orange-red mess."

"How is Helen?"

"Her eyes are pitch-black, if that's any indication."

"Did you tell her that I'm now working for the Imperial Palace until we find Evanton?"

"I don't think she'll care. Terrano still hasn't made his way home. Serralyn suggests that the next time the Keeper asks you for a walkabout, you say no."

"When you say Terrano isn't back, does that mean you can't contact him at all?"

Mandoran nodded. "It's only been a day. He's lost contact with us while experimenting with his form and his location before. Just not as spectacularly."

"Oh, I'm sure it was spectacular—there were just no witnesses."

To Kaylin's surprise, Mandoran not only walked them to the palace, but accompanied them in, which made things a bit trickier. As Kaylin had been ordered to report for duty, she was immediately allowed entry, but Barrani visitors were rare enough that Mandoran caused a holdup. It was hard to explain his presence, and eventually, she asked Severn to wait with the Barrani cohort member while she went to get permission from Sanabalis.

The Arkon was clearly not in the mood for random, chaotic visitors; his eyes were an orange that verged on red, and she could swear there was paper ash on the floor. Luckily, Lord Emmerian was also in the room; his eyes, while orange, rested in a much more neutral expression.

"Where is your partner?" Sanabalis growled.

"He's waiting in the outer hall with Mandoran."

For a moment, the Arkon looked at her as if she'd spoken a language he wasn't familiar with.

It was Lord Emmerian who spoke. "We have had rudimentary reporting from Lord Bellusdeo. Our current information comes directly from her. She did mention that one of your housemates appears to have been lost at the same time as the Keeper. While the absence of the Keeper is considered the pressing emergency, Bellusdeo understands that the absence of your housemate will have very real and deleterious effects on your home life." He turned to the Arkon. "It is best that you allow one member of that group to attend, if you can tolerate his presence. Mandoran is neutral and he makes no attempt to interfere.

"If not Mandoran, we might ask Serralyn to join us instead."

"This is not a picnic," Sanabalis snapped.

"No, Arkon." Emmerian's tone mirrored Kaylin's tone while speaking to Marcus or the Hawklord almost exactly.

She turned the resulting snicker into a cough that probably fooled no one.

"Shall I tell Severn to come in?"

"Lord Emmerian can go in person and escort them both in."

When Emmerian left the room, Kaylin was on the receiving end of a full draconic glare; there was no one else to split it with.

"Before you say anything, Evanton asked if Mrs. Erickson would allow him to visit her home, with me in tow. He considered it important; the garden has been chaotic, to paraphrase, in the past few weeks. I mean—no flooding in the store, which has happened before. He's managed to keep the garden contained.

"Bellusdeo has a pressing interest in Mrs. Erickson; she informed us that she would join us. Terrano likes anything that seems interesting. Serralyn had a request from one of the Wevaran, who joined us as well. Severn came because he's my partner, and Mandoran followed because he was bored. So we all descended on the house. It was fine until we opened the door to Azoria's manse—Evanton said the door itself was bound to the family painting Mrs. Erickson hasn't seen in decades.

"The interior had changed. I don't know what Bakkon made of it—I haven't spoken to Serralyn, and the cohort is frankly too worried about Terrano to consider her report important enough to pass on."

"Breathe, Corporal. And speak a little more slowly."

"I assume you heard about Evanton from Bellusdeo."

Sanabalis nodded.

"And that's the reason I've been put on Imperial Court duty."

"No, actually. The reason you are now on Imperial Court duty is Lannagaros. The librarians wished to speak with you, and that desire increased in urgency last night."

"I was going to go to the Academia after work."

"Ah. Well, now you will go as part of work. Lannagaros did not know what the concerns of the Arbiters are. They wished to speak with you."

"And Mrs. Erickson?"

"They only demanded your presence." Sanabalis exhaled smoke. "I am not rethinking my placement of Mrs. Erickson. I am, however, considering confining you to house arrest for the next three months."

"Me? Why?"

"Even when events do not involve you personally, you seem to be at the heart of them. And I am still transitioning into the role of Arkon. I could use a few months of peace."

The door opened; Emmerian, Severn, and Mandoran entered the room.

"I was just telling Corporal Neya that your first assignment is the Academia," Sanabalis said, in a much more reasonable tone of voice.

Severn nodded.

"Will you expect a report?"

"Yes. Verbal reports are acceptable in this case."

Well, that was a silver lining. "When?"

"When you have finished speaking with the Arbiters and the chancellor. I do not care about the hour; Dragons require very little sleep, and even if we did, I wouldn't be getting any of it."

To Kaylin's surprise, Emmerian joined them. His eyes were a wary orange, but there were no red flecks in them. Fair enough. Emmerian had always been the calmest, the most rational, of the Dragons.

They approached the bridge of Tiamaris in silence. Mandoran was the first to break it, although Kaylin and he opened their mouths at the same time.

"How's living with Bellusdeo treating you?"

The Dragon's eyes developed the tints of red they'd been missing. "Perhaps if she were in residence more often, I would have an answer to that question." Unlike his usual polite and neutral tone, this one had undercurrents.

"Did she tell you about Mrs. Erickson?"

Emmerian shook his head.

"But you heard."

"The chancellor had choice words to say about it. I do not believe he was amused by my attempt at handling the situation." Emmerian exhaled. "The last disagreement I had with Bellusdeo required intervention from Karriamis, who was displeased enough with both of us that he asked us to leave the Tower until we could speak like rational beings."

"So Karriamis hasn't spent much time around Bellusdeo?" Mandoran was grinning.

The red in Emmerian's eyes retreated. "I've never lived in a Tower; I find Karriamis very interesting—but he is an ancient Dragon by our standards, and he is very rigid in his thinking."

"What were you arguing about?"

Emmerian shook his head. "It seems irrelevant now, and Bellusdeo requires privacy."

"She didn't seem to care much about it when she was living with us."

"No, I imagine not. Living with other Dragons is clearly different." He exhaled. "I know that she chose me because I was the least distasteful of her available options. I know that the choice itself was made because the future of our race is now a possibility."

"It's not what you want?" This time, Mandoran lost the cheeky grin. "You didn't want her to choose you?"

"Of course I did. But not like that. To be the best of the worst is never something to which I have aspired. I do not wish my presence to be merely tolerable. Or worse."

"Yeah, that would suck."

"And I feel that perhaps I've become the focal point of her resentment at being forced to live a life she does not want." He exhaled. "But in the past few days she has forgotten that resentment, and she is in a far worse state." His smile was pained, but rueful. "I would like to make her life better. But I would also like to be treated with, if not affection, respect."

Mandoran raised a brow but didn't comment.

Kaylin frowned. "Are there any Barrani romances or love stories?"

He nodded. "I'm not sure you'd enjoy them, though."

"I don't generally enjoy human ones—what's the difference?"

"They generally end in war, murder, or suicide."

Kaylin was not up to asking the same question of Emmerian, but the Dragon said, "Then it appears our races have that in common, if little else."

"Is this the part where you both remind me that human love only has to last a measly few decades?"

"Wouldn't dream of it. You've got enough to rant about today."

Bellusdeo did not join them at the Academia. Kaylin assumed she was with Helen and Mrs. Erickson, either of whom—absent the pain of her lost sisters and the guilt their pain induced—were calming, gentle influences. Her sisters absorbed all her focus—of course they did. What she wanted right now was for those sisters to somehow be at peace. What she didn't want was to have a clutch of baby Dragons.

Kaylin considered duty and power as she walked. Had someone told her that she, Kaylin Neya, was the sole hope of humanity—but she had to bear a bunch of children in order to save it—she wasn't certain what she'd do. She couldn't imagine she would ever be that important, that singular.

Even if she in theory wanted to save the human race, becoming a mother wasn't part of her future. Because being a mother involved an actual child. She was fine with the idea that saving humanity—or the rest of the world—was part of her responsibility as the bearer of the marks of the Chosen, but she expected that salvation to be gained by the dint of martial arts.

She wasn't certain she could even be a good parent. But there were more practical problems. Babies didn't just somehow grow on their own; they required a father.

Ugh. Her sympathy for Bellusdeo soared as the Academia came into view.

"Let's get this out of the way."

"Isn't that Killian?" Mandoran asked, Barrani vision being better than hers.

"We haven't even reached the building yet."

"He's standing in the middle of the quad."

Hope sat up, his claws digging into her right shoulder. He lifted a wing and placed it—gently for him—across one eye.