Chapter 09

09

It was the former Arkon who broke the silence that descended in the library. "You never do anything the easy way, do you?" His eyes were orange, narrowed, and familiar; Kaylin might have stepped back in time, and interrupted his work in the archives of the Imperial Library.

"I hardly see how it's her fault," Bellusdeo said, her tone the same tone Kaylin would have heard had she never taken command of a Tower.

"You have always been far too indulgent where the corporal is concerned."

"Indulgent? Hardly. Your facility with language has diminished due to the stress of the responsibilities you have undertaken. Perhaps, if you wish to be critical, you might try protective ."

"Overprotective."

Bellusdeo snorted. "I fail to see why Kaylin is being blamed for taking the more difficult path—it's not as if she chose it."

"That is true; I will not argue it. But just as Mrs. Erickson is a genuine threat absent any malicious intent on her part, Kaylin rivals Terrano for the chaos she causes, also absent malicious intent. If she had not been involved with Mrs. Erickson, Mrs. Erickson would never have been offered assessment by the Arkon, and the ghosts—which possessed the Arkon—would never have wakened. Kaylin would not have encountered Azoria. Were it not for Azoria's long research, she would not have encountered what she considers to be a dead Ancient—"

"Further research is required on that front," Androsse cut in.

"Mrs. Erickson would not now be living with Helen; were she not, Mrs. Erickson would never have encountered you. Had this not happened, you would not be aware that the dead that you loved are bound, in misery, to you.

"And she has only just begun."

Bellusdeo grimaced. "I will not fault your observations, but will counter them. It is true there would be no possession of the Arkon by unknown, foreign bodies—in theory dead as well—but had she not found Azoria, Azoria would have succeeded in becoming a threat to the Empire that none of us could easily counter.

"If she is without intent, her instincts have guided her to the greater benefit of all of us. If it weren't for Kaylin's stumbling, the Academia would not now be your hoard."

Kavallac's frown was impatience personified as her eyes narrowed on the chancellor and Bellusdeo. She returned her attention to Kaylin. "You aided Bellusdeo with the marks of the Chosen? What do you mean by that, exactly?"

"What I said. If you want technical details, I don't have them. Sometimes the marks of the Chosen react to events in ways I can't predict. Sometimes, the power from the marks is accessible."

"Accessible?"

"The only deliberate way I can use the power is healing. I've been able to do that since the marks first appeared on my body. I've used the power of the marks in other ways—but not without intent most of the time."

"Explain."

Kaylin shook her head. "Some of it's private. I'm known as Chosen—but the first time I heard that word, I'd had the marks for years. Someone knew that those marks existed, somewhere, in the fiefs where I lived. And many children were kidnapped, tattooed, and murdered because of it.

"The library is huge. You've said that anything written—notebooks, diaries, things like that—can somehow be found here. I don't know how. That many books from that many worlds should be the size of a world. But—I've never asked for research on the marks of the Chosen. Maybe you could find books that involve those marks. Research on their use. Or private journals of those who were marked before me.

"I knew Bellusdeo's name wasn't complete, but I can't tell you how or why."

Bellusdeo coughed. "There was one other element of the name that did not involve my sisters' names."

Kaylin nodded. "Maggaron. Your Ascendant."

"Lannagaros?" Arbiter Kavallac said, the word a question and a command.

"Norranir. I know little of the Norranir, but they have some ability to repel Shadow. They did not have Towers; if the Ancients graced their world with anything other than its creation, it has not been mentioned. But there was some resistance in the Norranir before the fall of their world.

"They are here, now, in the fief of Tiamaris; I am certain they will move to the fief of Bellusdeo in time. They live, always, nearest the borders that face Ravellon ."

"They are Immortal?"

"No."

"But they have names?"

"Again, I am not an expert in the Norranir. The closest you will come is Lord Bellusdeo, and her time has not been spent in scholarship, either in that world or this." He turned to Bellusdeo. "I believe we have necessitated a longer period of research for the Arbiters. There is little more that we can contribute at the moment."

Bellusdeo's nod was tight.

A door appeared to their right. Kaylin waited for Bellusdeo to move toward it, but the gold Dragon was still.

"Arbiter Kavallac," she said, voice soft, eyes copper, "as you suspect, we lacked a mentor; we lacked a mother. Children demonstrably survive without such parenting; we survived. Perhaps, had we the guidance a mother offered, the outcome of our war would have differed."

Starrante lifted his arms, weaving them in a dance before the gold Dragon. "It would not, Lord Bellusdeo. Perhaps your individual fate would have differed—but the fall of the world cannot be laid across your shoulders."

"I was queen."

"And perhaps because you were queen, the fall of the world was slowed."

"You are being kind to me, Arbiter."

"No. You are being unkind to yourself. We will retreat now—I fear we will cause some unrest among the students—and we will inform the chancellor of any further questions our research necessitates."

Kaylin thought he was done, and headed toward the freestanding door they had summoned.

Starrante wasn't done. "Kaylin. If you intend to return to Mrs. Erickson's former residence, be cautious. I do not advise you to attempt to explore whatever may be left of Azoria's home. If you must explore that home, avoid the path that leads to the dead."

Bellusdeo's eyes were narrow, but copper gave way to orange with flecks of red. Kaylin was certain that would be their optimal color until her sisters were somehow either happy or free.

She'd heard the story Starrante told, of the woman who had come—at the side of a dead girl—to accuse the girl's murderer. The author hadn't seen what had happened to his sister, because he couldn't see his sister at all. But the Arbiter was right. Mrs. Erickson could have done exactly what the nameless young woman had done. And perhaps that was her way of bringing peace to a dead girl.

Or perhaps it was her way of preventing any other such deaths at the hands of this one man—the man who should have been the girl's protector, her father.

Kaylin had no idea who her own father was. Fathers hadn't figured prominently in her life, except in one way: they were a source of envy. Maybe not all fathers were worthy of envy.

"You did well," the chancellor said.

Bellusdeo didn't answer. Instead, she turned to Kaylin. "He's talking about you."

What? "Me?"

"Yes. I realize I very seldom offer praise, but you did well. The Arbiters are intimidating, powerful presences; if you are standing in their library, you are at their mercy. The rules that govern the Academia do not govern the library. When the Arbiters close their library for research purposes, it is rumored to become a very, very odd place—a place that can be inimical for the survival of anyone who is not an Arbiter or a book.

"But I have never seen that expression on Arbiter Androsse's face before. If he were like Starrante, he might be moved to leave the seat of his power. You unsettled him. You unsettled all of us," he added, "but Arbiter Androsse has no experience with the chaos that is a constant presence where you are involved.

"I am uncertain how we should proceed from here."

"You don't have to proceed," Bellusdeo said, in Elantran. "This isn't your problem. It's ours."

Ours. Meaning hers and Kaylin's. Kaylin, who was mortal, and wasn't nearly as learned, as wise, or as powerful as Lannagaros. Or Bellusdeo.

"Evanton wants to visit us at home. By us, I mean Mrs. Erickson."

"Now?"

"Tomorrow." Or later, if she was lucky.

"Corporal."

"She's a really nice, really gentle old lady. I don't want her to be thrown into the deep end. I want her to spend time with Helen, to bake, maybe figure out what she wants to do when the dead aren't—" She stopped the rest of the words from falling out of her mouth, because Bellusdeo was listening.

"Perhaps," the chancellor said, "you might ask Mrs. Erickson what she herself wishes. There are too many things entwined with Mrs. Erickson at the moment."

"It's not her fault."

"No; I believe it is probably—somehow—yours. You have not been keeping up with magic lessons—"

"It wasn't my fault this time! You saddled Sanabalis with the position of Arkon! He's been busy!"

"I suggest you attempt to be more flexible and accommodating. There are other alternatives to his lessons, and you do not wish the Emperor to decide that your ability to understand and harness the power of your marks is of far more relevance to the safety of his Empire than fulfilling your duties as a Hawk."

Aside from the one moment in the meeting with the Arbiters, Hope remained draped across Kaylin's shoulders for the entire day. Bellusdeo offered to fly Kaylin home; it was late when they emerged from the library. Since the gold Dragon's version of offer was essentially command, Kaylin accepted.

It was far too late for dinner. Even if it hadn't been, Bellusdeo was not in the mood for more conversation; she dropped Kaylin off in Helen's landing tower, and headed to her own Tower.

"Is Mrs. Erickson sleeping?" Kaylin asked, as she headed for the stairs.

"She is. Her ghosts seem to be quiet as well. How was the Academia visit?"

Kaylin grimaced. "I don't even want to think about it tonight."

"That's good, dear."

Kaylin slowed her usual rapid descent of the stairs. "What's happened? Did the midwives' guild mirror?"

"Ah, no." After a brief pause, Helen said, "But you do have a guest, if you feel you are up to a visit."

"If it's Evanton, I'll see him."

"It isn't, but he did get in contact with me. I took the liberty of asking Mrs. Erickson if she would like to meet him."

"Did you explain his day job?"

"In very broad terms, yes. She was curious and she agreed. He'll be coming for dinner tomorrow, unless you have objections."

She did, but she didn't have any reasonable ones. "No, it's fine." Two more stairs. "If it's not Evanton, who exactly is it?"

"Lord Emmerian," Helen replied. "I believe he is talking with Mandoran in the parlor if you'd like to join them."

Of the Dragons, Emmerian was definitely the calmest. He was also the most considerate, which she found surprising on occasion, given the rest of the Immortals in her social orbit.

She went to her room to change before she headed downstairs. Or rather, bounced off Terrano, who was waiting for her. His eyes were bluer than they usually were.

Emmerian hadn't visited since the last disaster of a visit, which had involved the cohort, an enraged Dragon, and Helen's interference. "Is it bad?" she asked.

"Not in the way you're thinking. Look, of the Dragons, Emmerian is usually the least offensive. I would have bet he had no temper at all—but he does. It's just less easily triggered."

"Helen said Mandoran's with him now?"

"He is. The Dragon's worried, but not in a bad way."

"What's a good way of worrying?"

"He's worried for, rather than worried about."

Ugh. "Is this relationship issues?"

"We think so. He's keeping the conversation afloat by discussing Shadows and life with a Dragon-based Tower."

"That doesn't sound like a relationship problem."

"He hasn't mentioned the captain of the Tower once. And given that she's now Lord Bellusdeo, that probably takes effort."

Kaylin slowed. "You know I suck at relationship issues, right?"

Terrano shrugged. "You can't be as bad as Sedarias."

Helen's Avatar was waiting outside of the parlor door.

"Is he drinking?"

"Which he?"

"Never mind. Do you know why he came here?"

"Yes."

"And you're not of a mind to share."

"I believe Emmerian will speak of his concerns—it's why he chose to visit. But no, dear. If I can hear thoughts—and I am surprised at how clear his are at the moment, as he's usually much more careful—but he is a guest, and entitled to some privacy. If there is a danger present in those thoughts, privacy has less priority." She opened the door.

Emmerian stood when Kaylin entered. Mandoran didn't. Kaylin was grateful for the latter; bowing was a strata of manners that made her feel underdressed and ignorant.

"Please don't," she said, as she headed toward one of the chairs. Helen had chosen to decorate tonight's parlor with large upholstered chairs that had very soft cushions. Kaylin could spend all day on her feet, but preferred not to have to do it at home.

Emmerian sat only after Kaylin did. Mandoran had taken the opportunity of the Dragon's bow to make pleading eyes at Kaylin. She mouthed Bellusdeo at him, and he nodded. Mandoran probably didn't care all that much about Emmerian, but he did like Bellusdeo; he considered her a friend. Most of the cohort seemed to avoid friendships that didn't involve True Names and centuries of history. Mandoran was more flexible.

"I'm sorry I was so late to return. I was at the Academia."

"Are there problems there?" Emmerian asked.

"No—the librarians are doing a bit of research on our behalf."

"Yours?" The word was slightly sharper.

Kaylin exhaled. "Ours. Some of it involves our newest roommate, Mrs. Erickson. Some of it involves our former roommate, Bellusdeo."

The Dragon tensed, although the tension was subtle.

"Have you met Mrs. Erickson?"

"No, not yet. Helen said she was trying to catch up on the sleep she's missed because of her guests." His eyes blue, he nonetheless smiled. "The Arkon says she is charming and kind."

"Was that all he said?"

"He has some concerns which were, of course, shared with the Imperial Court. The Dragon Court," he added. "But he does not feel, at this juncture, that she would be best served by a stay in the Imperial Palace. He expected that she might have some difficulty adjusting to both a new home and new wards."

It took Kaylin a minute to realize that wards referred to the ghosts Mrs. Erickson had carried from the palace to Helen.

"Is the Academia research an attempt to better understand Mrs. Erickson's gift?"

Kaylin nodded. "In part."

"What concerns does Bellusdeo have?" The heart of his curiosity.

"Have you talked to her about it at all?"

"She has not been resident in the Tower. Karriamis has informed me that there is a problem, but would not disclose its nature."

No wonder he'd come here.

"It isn't a problem that's life-threatening or world-threatening."

"I'm not certain that statement is terribly comforting, dear."

"Probably not. It's personal, for Bellusdeo." Realizing that this probably wasn't comforting either, she added, "It's not about you. She's not angry with you or worried about you, or upset at something you've done."

Helen cleared her throat.

"That I'm aware of."

"Is it something you feel you cannot speak of to me?"

"To anyone," Kaylin replied, regretting it. "Anything discussed was not to leave the library—under no uncertain terms." She exhaled. "I don't have a lot of leeway—she's probably going to be following my Halls of Law schedule closely. And this isn't mine to talk about." She wanted to. She trusted Emmerian with anything related to Bellusdeo.

But it wasn't her trust that mattered here. It was Bellusdeo's.

Emmerian knew.

"I think she's not willing to talk to you about personal things because she's not ready to be a mother."

Emmerian swallowed and nodded.

"But inasmuch as she trusts any Dragon, she trusts you. Are you living in the Tower?"

"It is my current residence, but I am expected to fulfill my duties to the Emperor."

"I'm not the person you need to talk to right now. I think you should talk to the chancellor. He won't be able to tell you what to do, but... I think he understands Bellusdeo better than any of us, except maybe Helen.

"I only know her as she is now. The chancellor knew her in the Aerie. She remembers, and I think she's as comfortable around him as she is around anyone. She didn't expect to be here. She didn't expect to have no empire and no war into which she could throw her entire existence. The Tower is a start—but I'm not sure it's a good start." She felt guilty even saying this much.

Emmerian was silent.

"That's not what I mean," she finally continued. "It's a war that has to be fought—but it's almost like she thinks there's nothing else she's any good for now. She can't rule. She can't govern. The Empire is the Emperor's hoard, and he's a Dragon. She spends some time with the Norranir—but they're the people I think she feels she failed.

"She was never raised to be an Aerie's mother. She didn't think of parenthood at all. But she was a queen, and she understands why, if there are no other Dragons, she has to become that mother.

"But I don't think she'll be able to do that until..." Ugh. "Talk to the chancellor."

Emmerian nodded.

"Look, I trust you with Bellusdeo. Even the cohort does. Some of them might pity you, but they trust your intent. So does Helen. I'm certain the chancellor does as well.

"But it's what I said: this isn't about anyone else's trust. It's about hers. And she's just too raw right now."

Emmerian was not much happier than he had been when he'd arrived.

"She never intended to be a mother," Kaylin told him, voice soft. "But she intended to live with her sisters forever. Right now, it's the sisters that matter to her. Mrs. Erickson matters because of her sisters. We're trying to work through it all now, but Mrs. Erickson doesn't know what she can do, either.

"If you can, wait. Wait, listen if she talks—and she probably won't. She can only barely contain her rage at the Outcaste, her rage at Shadow. There's not a lot of space left. Maybe if she could have become our Emperor, it would be different; she's responsible enough that ruling would absorb all her time, all her attention. But she can't have that, either."

Emmerian nodded, but said, voice as soft as Kaylin's, "It's not because of her ability to repopulate our race that I was drawn to her. We survived believing that there would be no more Dragons. We could survive the lack." He swallowed. "She chose me because I was the best choice out of all the bad choices she was offered—but it was a choice she didn't want to make. I want that to change.

"And, Kaylin, you are correct. She doesn't speak. She won't talk about anything but Shadow."

She did, or had. But maybe not now. Maybe not especially now.

"Well, that was awkward," Mandoran said, after Emmerian had cleared both the door to the manor and the fenced gate that surrounded it—the true boundary of Helen.

"It was," Helen replied. "It is far easier for Bellusdeo to spend time with you because you want nothing from her; you have nothing you feel you could, or must, give."

"Maybe he should try that."

"If he could, I believe he would. Being a Dragon complicates things enormously; I believe she is the hoard he desires. That desire is not always destructive; it is what bound Tiamaris to Tara so strongly. Tara is what he desired—and Tara needed exactly that drive, that totality of commitment. It is not clear that Bellusdeo either needs it or would accept it.

"I like Lord Emmerian, and I am worried for him. I am worried for Bellusdeo. I believe the Tower is her true home in this world, but I think she moved out a bit too early."

Kaylin glanced at Helen.

Helen's smile was gentle. "She was at home here, with you—and with the members of the cohort who were willing to interact with her. She was learning to live in the world she now inhabits, if slowly. Those lessons didn't have time to take root and fully blossom."

"But..."

"There is a reason she came back, a reason she wanted to speak with—or to—you." Helen hugged Kaylin gently, drawing her away from the door. "Perhaps she would have gone to her sisters, had they lived. I think the best thing we can do for Bellusdeo now is to untangle Mrs. Erickson's power and ability. It was unfortunate that she saw the ghosts of those beloved sisters in the state they were in. But Emmerian and Bellusdeo have no chance if they remain trapped as they are."

Kaylin leaned into Helen. "Evanton wants to speak with Mrs. Erickson. And it's not about her sisters."

"I know. But now, sleep. You have work in the morning, and Evanton in the evening, unless there is some other unforeseen emergency to interrupt his visit."

There was no unforeseen emergency, or at least not one that woke Kaylin up in the middle of the night; she slept like a log. Why logs were supposed to be great at sleeping, she didn't know, but didn't think about it too much; Hope was her wake-up call, and he was loud.

It was funny; she'd've said that the absence of Hope would be a blessing, but the relief she felt at the grouchy dragonlet's presence made clear that she would have been wrong.

Mrs. Erickson was not at the breakfast table.

"She is sleeping. While her guests are not as extreme in their concern as they were yesterday, they are still vibrating their fear. She speaks to them and calms them, but communication with them is still somewhat difficult; she can hear them, but I believe the translation that comes with her natural gift leaves something to be desired.

"Regardless, they hear her clearly, or perhaps hear her intent clearly." Helen was worried. Of course she was. Kaylin was worried as well.

Kaylin could—and did—wake up at any hour of the night when there was an emergency, but she was younger than Mrs. Erickson, and lack of sleep didn't affect her as badly. She could go days without much sleep and still function.

"Not entirely well, dear."

"Well enough for government work."

Helen coughed. "Bellusdeo has just arrived."

"Again?"

"I believe she intends to shadow you while you work. And I think this is for the best, before you argue against it."

"I know." Kaylin finished breakfast and rose to meet the gold Dragon.

Kaylin started the morning, Bellusdeo in tow, writing the standard patrol reports. It was her least favorite duty, but once it was done she would finish the working day with the actual patrol. She didn't understand why reports had to be filed if nothing had gone wrong, and viewed them with the same distaste her sergeant did. Marcus, however, felt that if he had to file reports, everyone had to file them. No one argued.

The worst thing about the Barrani Hawks, in Kaylin's private opinion, was that they filed their damn reports perfectly and on time. It was seriously annoying.

"Don't look to me for sympathy," Bellusdeo told her. "Severn appears to file his reports on time."

"Why can't I just add my signature to his reports? We saw the same things."

"That is something you'd have to take up with your sergeant. I personally never required unnecessary reports, but I'm sure the Emperor has his reasons."

"Sadism."

"Is she whining again?" Teela said, from across the office. Kaylin hadn't been that loud, but Barrani could hear everything.

Bellusdeo's eyes lightened, and she left Kaylin to the tail end of her report. "Of course. It's how we know she's awake."

Hope snickered. Kaylin flicked his snout. She then finished writing her report.

Elani street offered no further emergencies. Evanton was working in his storefront, and looked up when the Hawks paused in front of his window; he waved them off. If he had more words, he intended to save them for his visit to Kaylin's house.

Only one mirror message had arrived at Kaylin's desk by the end of the day: it was from the Academia. Apparently, the Arbiters had a few further questions. Killian at the Academia had as dim a view of mirrors and the mirror network as Helen did, but understood that communication, when attempting to attract students, was a necessity.

Kaylin forwarded the questions to Helen. She wouldn't be able to answer any of them tonight.

"Did you want my company at dinner?" Severn asked.

"If you want to join us, you can. I don't expect there will be much difficulty."

"Bellusdeo?"

"I'm joining them," the gold Dragon told Kaylin's partner. "I don't care if you're there. Helen's not likely to mind, and Mrs. Erickson will be fine with it. I expect we'll get a number of cohort members as well—not many of them have met a Keeper." She spoke using the same tone orphanage supervisors used when talking about kids at the zoo.

Kaylin finished work on time and rushed home; she talked Bellusdeo out of arriving the "efficient" way, and was forced to march, at speed, back to Helen. If Bellusdeo had chosen to break the laws governing Dragons in the city, she was likely to survive it—but her clothing wouldn't; she'd have to join dinner in her natural armor. Severn chose to accompany them. Hope squawked, but it wasn't the annoyed or angry squawk, so she assumed he approved—not that disapproval would change anything.

Helen was waiting in the frame of the open door. She smiled at Severn, and offered Bellusdeo open arms; Bellusdeo walked into them, wordless. Helen matched her silence, but gently disentangled herself and drew her into the house.

"Evanton has not yet arrived," she told them. "I expect him soon. Would you like to wait in the parlor?"

"Depends. Is it empty?"

"It is. The dining room, however, is not; I believe most of the cohort in residence have chosen to welcome our guest." Which meant Sedarias would be present.

Kaylin wondered if Bellusdeo would be more comfortable if most of the cohort were elsewhere. But... Evanton wasn't coming to see Bellusdeo; he was coming to speak with Mrs. Erickson. At least one cohort member should be present; if Evanton wanted to hear about Mrs. Erickson's home—or the parts that Azoria had controlled—the cohort had better memory.

The cohort had causes of their own. Telling them to leave—when they lived here—because Bellusdeo might be uncomfortable didn't feel right.

"Mandoran did suggest a quieter dinner might be appropriate," Helen said.

"But he's still coming to dinner."

"Yes, dear—but I think he hopes to be a buffer of some sort, if a buffer becomes necessary."

Hope snorted.

Kaylin turned to Bellusdeo. "Did you want to join the zoo immediately, or wait in the parlor?"

"Best begin as we mean to continue," the Dragon replied, a glint of steel in her orange eyes.

The dining room was not a zoo. The cohort—in best dress, except for Sedarias, whose standing in the High Court elevated best to ridiculous amounts of jewelry and expensive cloth—were seated at the table. There were no floor cushions scattered around the room, and no cohort-size huddle of bodies reclining on them.

Left to their own devices, the cohort reminded Kaylin of Leontine children; they sought physical contact and absorbed it as if it were oxygen. Plated food was often eaten on the floor, passed among the cohort if they were hungry. They mostly shared a room, although Helen did have individual rooms available for use, should any of them desire privacy.

Today, however, they were all seated. Barrani tended to look perfectly groomed no matter how much effort they did—or did not—put in; the only exception Kaylin could immediately recall was Teela, in the wake of life-threatening combat.

Teela was absent.

"She will not be joining us unless something, as she put it, goes catastrophically wrong. Serralyn and Valliant have likewise chosen to be absent, although there is some chance that Serralyn will arrive before the Keeper leaves." Helen's voice was very soft; Kaylin assumed that she'd chosen to speak privately. "Yes, dear."

A swift glance around the table showed blue eyes to a man, although Sedarias's were darkest, Mandoran's lightest. Terrano's even had flecks of green in them. Neither Mandoran nor Terrano became darker eyed when Bellusdeo walked into the dining room behind Kaylin.

Nestled between Terrano and Mandoran was Mrs. Erickson. She'd come down early—of course she had. Kaylin thought her color was off—she was a bit on the pale side—but she seemed happy to be at the table. Kaylin hoped that would last. Maybe the reason Mandoran and Terrano seemed more at ease was Mrs. Erickson herself; they were speaking with her, and she was listening and smiling in that open way that encouraged talk.

If she found the rest of the cohort intimidating, it didn't show. She wasn't dressed as formally, probably because she didn't have much in the way of formal wear—but Kaylin wasn't, either. The cohort didn't care the way they might have had Mrs. Erickson been Barrani; they didn't expect much from mortals.

Maybe that was unfair. Kaylin thought Mrs. Erickson an older version of Caitlin; it would take the determination of a special sort of person to dislike her. There was a reason the dead children had been so worried about what would happen to her if they moved on to wherever it was the dead were supposed to go.

"No," she was saying to Terrano, "I haven't managed to make it back to my house yet. Things have been so busy here, I've barely visited the Halls of Law."

"She did send food," Kaylin pointed out. "And I did bring the empty basket home. Bridget told me to thank you—and to tell you you can visit the front desk at any time, without making her privates write long incident reports."

Mrs. Erickson's smile was one of gratitude and embarrassment.

"They just miss the food," Terrano said.

"That she went through the trouble of baking. There's nothing wrong with appreciating her because she feeds us."

"Us, is it? So all the time you come home ranting about front desk work and how you shouldn't have to do it—"

"People who do the work get to complain about it."

"Given how much you complain, you should be dead from overwork."

Helen cleared her throat.

Terrano glanced at the Avatar, and then folded his arms, his mouth a mutinous, thin line. Mrs. Erickson gave him a sympathetic glance, but no words.

"Kaylin, I believe your guest has arrived."

Kaylin rose. "I'll get the door," she told the almost silent table.