A quick glance—when she could tear her gaze away from Sedarias—showed that most of the cohort hadn’t chosen to dress up for dinner. Mandoran and Terrano in particular; Terrano hadn’t bothered to change his clothing. Serralyn hadn’t bothered to change hers, either.
To her surprise, Teela was seated at the table. She wore green, a resplendent, bright color that reminded Kaylin, conversely, of the long, long imprisonment of the rest of Teela’s friends. This didn’t, in Teela’s case, mean Teela supported Sedarias, but it did indicate that she considered Sedarias’s information to be of formal importance.
Allaron wore his usual clothing, but Torrisant was dressed in very similar fashion to Sedarias—as were Fallessian and the usually utterly silent Karian. Torrisant had chosen more formal wear, but it matched Teela’s choice, not Sedarias’s. Clearly battle lines had been drawn before she’d set foot in her home. She was grateful that Serralyn had chosen to stay, and envied Valliant, who remained in the safety of the Academia.
But Severn had chosen to remain as well, and he occupied the seat directly opposite Sedarias’s. Kaylin walked into the dining room, heading toward the chair that was farthest from the door. Teela rolled her eyes. “We are not going to eat you. Sit down.”
“Why are you dressed like that?”
“Clothing does not define the meal.”
“No. It just destroys the appetite.” She dragged her chair out and sat in it. Since her ability to eat wasn’t dependent on her appetite, Kaylin decided to clear the air immediately. “So why did you call a meeting?”
“We lack necessary information. I therefore approached allies of Mellarionne and asked that they seek that information. Two of the informants have failed to report in. A third is dead. Our assumption, in the absence of bodies, is that the two are likewise deceased.” This might explain the color of her eyes. “When information presents a danger to Barrani, caution is required in its pursuit—but if three of those allied with Mellarionne have been killed it implies the killers either have no fear of Mellarionne or their fear of Azoria, or someone of rank in the High Court, is stronger.”
“In theory she’s dead,” Kaylin said.
“Yes. Regardless, some response on the part of Mellarionne is now required. Had the interested parties approached me first, I would not have considered this action one that deserved reprisal. This did not happen.”
Kaylin had a headache. A Barrani-sized headache. But she understood Sedarias’s anger now. She understood the clothing of those members of the cohort who had chosen, in their own fashion, to stand behind her, and lifted a hand, palm out. “If you have information that’s going to get me killed, I’m not certain I want to hear it right now.”
“That’s unfortunate. For you. At this point, it seems the use of the name merits—in the eyes of an as-yet-unknown enemy—death to Barrani; I imagine the laws of exemption would make your otherwise certain death far more complicated. Our people do not call upon the laws of exemption in life or death. Any retribution from Mellarionne is therefore entirely outside of your remit—and it will stay that way. Mellarionne, as any Barrani family of note, has no wish to fall afoul of those laws.”
“I concur,” Teela predictably said. “This is a Barrani matter.”
“If Azoria was somehow involved in the death of those children—or the kidnapping—it isn’t. You said Azoria is dead, as is the whole of her line. The implication was that her death has been fact for a long time.
“But either that’s inaccurate, or some other person chose to purchase land in an area entirely occupied by mortals—by humans like me—under her name. The building that she bought doesn’t exist anymore.”
“It was destroyed?”
“No. It never existed, except in tax Records. In its place, a much, much smaller building does. That building was either built or bought some eighty to ninety years ago—by mortals.” Kaylin turned toward Teela. “Mrs. Erickson’s parents.”
“Mrs. Erickson’s parents are the only owners in taxation Records.”
“And the location of fourteen and a half?”
“It appears to have been built when, or just before, the Swindons assumed ownership and tax responsibilities,” the Barrani Hawk continued. Kaylin wondered if she were lying.
She isn’t, Severn said. What Records contains is the information she is now offering.
Could those Records be tampered with?
Almost anything can, but tampering with Imperial Records requires upper level intervention or permission. Or turning a blind eye at a very specific time.
Or the Emperor’s direct command?
The question surprised Severn, but it also amused him. Or that, yes. Is that what you suspect?
I don’t suspect anything yet. But...I don’t believe that Azoria is dead. Her family, maybe. I think it would be hard to hide an entire family line if most of it hadn’t been wiped out. But Larrantin implied that the father—An’Berranin—had no real interest in Azoria’s studies; he encouraged her and supported her.
Teela cleared her throat. Loudly. Kaylin reddened. “Sorry. Is there any land grant recorded? Any transfer from the former owner of the lot?”
“As you no doubt suspect, no. The land itself was transferred in its entirety to Mrs. Erickson’s parents, the Swindons, and upon their deaths to the Ericksons.”
“From who?”
“From the Imperial office. A government stamped transfer.”
“A transfer’s an interaction between two parties. It goes to the senior Swindons, but it has to come from somewhere.”
“Indeed. It comes from the Imperial Palace; it is a land grant.”
“But the taxation Records...”
Teela nodded again. “Those were not altered. There does not seem to be a codicil to the ownership. The record—the one that mentions house fourteen and its owner—appears to be a Records artifact. It has no bearing on the Records related to property, ownership, and the laws created to cover them.
“There is no legal reason that a Barrani—lord or no—could not own property in the city of Elantra should they have the money to legally purchase a property. It is not done, of course—to live as a mortal among mortals would be considered a social disgrace.”
“Tain does.”
Teela’s smile was cool. “Indeed. But Lord Tain was considered a disgrace when he declined to take the Test of Name, and in truth, I admired his conviction. He joined the Hawks when I did; he joined, I believe, because I did. His adoption of what you consider a ‘normal’ abode was his way of making clear—to anyone who might question him—that he served me and my interests, no matter where they might lead.
“Most Barrani would be far more willing to commit murder than to lose public face. Tain, however, is not most Barrani.”
“But Azoria—a woman whose name strikes dread in powerful Barrani Lords—was perfectly willing to buy a merely mortal dwelling.”
“Be careful,” Teela said, voice soft, eyes dark. She meant that as a warning; it wasn’t a threat, but a request.
“I’m always careful.”
Mandoran choked on what he was drinking, causing a spray of liquid—and coughing—that did not amuse Sedarias. It did amuse Terrano, but he was outside of the spray radius.
Teela ignored it. She did, however, choose to speak in High Barrani, not the Elantran with which she usually addressed Kaylin. “I would tell you to abandon this inquiry, but I know you too well. Perhaps, if the trapped children were adults, you could do it—it would spare many lives in the end.”
“You think there will be more deaths?”
“Don’t you?”
Sedarias remained silent, leaving the discussion in Teela’s hands, which wasn’t like her.
“If you cannot leave it be, let me accompany you,” Teela continued.
Kaylin froze. She felt Severn’s amusement, although it was a quiet, black amusement. She’s always kept an eye out for you.
The Barrani aren’t supposed to investigate this—they’re not supposed to mention her name at all—and Teela isn’t subject to the laws of exemption if she’s killed in action.
I wouldn’t be so certain of that; she’s an Imperial Hawk. I’m certain, given her history as An’Teela, that she will not be approached with the cold-minded carelessness that the Mellarionne allies were. If she were, the assassins would be the ones to die.
“I won’t be going anywhere immediately.”
“You’ve been escorting Mrs. Erickson home when you’ve finished desk work.” Not a question.
Kaylin nodded. “Not because of Azoria, whoever she was or is, but because Mrs. Erickson’s neighbor is—” She paused and then pulled out a Leontine obscenity for good measure. “According to Jamal and Esme—Esmeralda was her full name—he’s forced himself into the house at least once. They made him leave. Jamal can...interact with physical objects, but as he can’t be seen, the neighbor believes the house is haunted.”
“So the neighbor isn’t entirely stupid.” This, in Elantran.
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“You generally dislike acknowledging the strengths of people you otherwise despise, yes.”
“No, that’s not what I mean. He thinks Mrs. Erickson has something that belongs to him—that she maybe stole it or something. And he’s hell-bent on getting it back, which is why he tried to force himself into the house the one time.”
“What exactly does he think she stole?”
“She has no idea. He never said. I highly doubt he’d tell us, either.”
Teela’s answering frown was much more familiar—and oddly comforting—to Kaylin. “You want to get into a brawl with him.”
“He almost hit me,” Kaylin replied, which everyone present took as yes. “But Jamal scared him off.”
“I will accompany you when you escort Mrs. Erickson home.”
“She’s harmless. I don’t want you intimidating her.”
“Why would you think I would do that?”
Kaylin snorted. “You’re Barrani. You intimidate people just by breathing in their direction.”
Teela raised a single brow. “I will, of course, be wearing the tabard of the Hawks.”
“It’s after hours,” Kaylin snapped. “We’re not on duty.”
“Oh. And you therefore went in civilian clothing?”
“I will be, today. Look, she’s a harmless, gentle old lady who brings us food. I mean, we all thought she was a bit dotty, but if she is, so am I.”
“No argument there,” Mandoran cheerfully added.
Sedarias, eyes far too dark, said, “We are trusting An’Teela and ask that you do the same. You are Lord Kaylin, but you are not Barrani.”
“I approve of that,” Mandoran said. “Most Barrani are boring if they’re not trying to kill you—present company excepted, of course.”
“I might consent to be less boring if you do not stop interrupting me.” Given the color of Sedarias’s eyes, she wasn’t joking. Mandoran rolled eyes, but fell silent. “Teela understands what will—or will not—cause political difficulty, both for us and for the Barrani.
“But we don’t expect that this is entirely political; there is too much cohesion of approach. Azoria is not a name that is spoken aloud among those of our kin who did not spend centuries jailed in a Hallionne. If Teela judges whatever it is you can, or cannot, see to be truly dangerous, she will ask you to stop your investigation as it touches upon Azoria.
“She won’t stop you from attempting to somehow free the dead. The mortal dead are not our dead; they are—or were, to our minds—children’s stories. We are willing to believe that you—who bears the marks of the Chosen—can see them; we are therefore willing to believe that they exist. But if they can be somehow set free without perturbing or terrifying the rest of the Barrani, please, please do so.”
“If it can’t?”
“If it can’t, we will at least have forewarning and we can plan our own defenses at that time.”
“There’s only one thing.”
“And that?”
“Tomorrow I’m not escorting Mrs. Erickson directly home.”
“Oh?”
“I have an appointment with Lord Sanabalis.”
“The Arkon,” Teela added. “You should learn to use the title.”
“Fine. The Arkon. I have an appointment with the Arkon. I’ve asked him to assess Mrs. Erickson for magical potential.”
After a brief silent pause, Sedarias grimaced. “I would hardly think that would be worth his time, given both her race and her age.”
“Luckily, I haven’t asked the cohort to assess.”
“It’s Sedarias,” Mandoran said, earning a glare from Sedarias herself. “She thinks about things in a purely utilitarian way.”
“If I did that, I would have gotten rid of half of you already!”
Terrano snickered. “What? I’m allowed to laugh—I’m part of the half she’d ditch. Sedarias likes a smooth and obedient chain of command.”
“It’s a wonder she never strangled you.”
“To me, too. But I was the most...flexible of all of us. I was the first to be able to escape Alsanis.”
Since his escape had caused a lot of damage, Kaylin wasn’t certain this was a good thing. But if he hadn’t, the cohort wouldn’t be here, and that would, in the end, be a loss. “Fine. I’ll take Teela. I don’t want Terrano to tag along.”
Terrano’s smile was bright and almost childlike. “Well, sucks to be you.”
“Terrano,” Sedarias snapped.
“You can’t stop her from being Kaylin, and she’s mortal. What makes you think you can stop me?”
“I can beg Helen for a favor.”
“Not that one.” He grinned. “I wouldn’t mind if Helen tried to keep me trapped here; it would be a bit of a challenge. Assuming she wouldn’t just kill me.”
“I would not,” Helen’s disembodied voice said. “Nor would Sedarias truly wish for your death.”
“Could I perhaps wish for his silence?”
Terrano laughed.
Serralyn said, “I’d vote for that, if it were possible.”
“Helen, they’re ganging up on me.” Terrano’s eyes were green.
Helen materialized physically; Kaylin suspected it was because she wanted the gentle smile on her face to be seen.
Kaylin spent the morning at a busier-than-usual front desk. Six of the reports were about ghosts. There were often reports about hauntings of various kinds, but perhaps because of her recent experiences, she was tempted to take them seriously. There were another two reports of vampire sightings, and she made a mental note to check for bodies in the morgue; sometimes people came up with unusual explanations for deaths they’d heard about in the rumor mill.
Her facial muscles were cramped by the time Mrs. Erickson made her appearance; it was hard to treat every complaint with respect when the people who were making those complaints were hostile. Politely accepting overt hostility had never been one of Kaylin’s core social strengths, and it was theoretically a requirement of this desk.
Her smile, however, was genuine when Mrs. Erickson—basket over arm—came into view. The old woman took a seat, as she did when there were people who had arrived before her. Her clothing today was more staid, more stiff, and she actually wore bits of jewelry; if Kaylin had wondered if Mrs. Erickson remembered that they were going to the palace, she had her answer.
Mrs. Erickson was vastly more patient with the passage of time than Kaylin—and neither had a patch on angry, busy Dragons. But there was no one else that Kaylin could wave over; most Hawks avoided front desk duty as if it were contagious. And deadly.
She was therefore in a bit of a rush when she was finally finished. She barely looked at the basket Mrs. Erickson was carrying. But everything smelled good, and after the day she’d had she deserved a bit of a treat.
The sergeant appeared as if summoned the moment Kaylin opened the basket. On most occasions, this would have given rise to humorous comments, not that Bridget was terribly forgiving of them. Time, however, was a problem now. Kaylin said, “We have an appointment with the Arkon at the Imperial Palace. Today.”
“We?”
“Mrs. Erickson and me. We have to leave now or we’re going to be late.”
Bridget nodded. “Can you leave the basket here today, given that Kaylin’s ‘or’ should be replaced with ‘and.’ No one wants to be late to meet a Dragon; they have bad tempers and notorious memory.”
Mrs. Erickson nodded. “I have three others at home. I’ll pick that one up when I come by tomorrow.”
Teela was waiting for them on the safe side of the public office door, arms folded, shoulders against the nearest wall. Barrani could do this without appearing to slouch. She peeled herself off the wall. “I thought you said your appointment was at 4:30.”
“It is.”
“I thought so. I’ve taken the liberty of calling for a carriage.” To Mrs. Erickson, she added, “I’m Corporal Teela, a friend and mentor of Kaylin’s. You must be the Mrs. Erickson she talks so much about.”
“Oh, dear. I hope she hasn’t said anything bad.”
“About you? Not at all. She is not, I’m afraid to report, impressed with your neighbor.”
Mrs. Erickson winced, and in an effort to change the topic, added, “Are you going to introduce the young man beside you, or is he not with you?”
Kaylin stared at the empty space to Teela’s left. “The young man is Terrano. He’s one of my housemates.”
Terrano looked flummoxed, an expression he retained when he materialized so that Kaylin could see him; she was certain Teela had been aware that he was present.
“I’m sorry—have I said the wrong thing?” Mrs. Erickson asked Terrano.
“Sort of?” Terrano replied. “Kaylin couldn’t see me.”
Mrs. Erickson winced. “I’m sorry, dear—I didn’t realize you were trying to be invisible.” She apologized as if invisibility was a condition one could achieve by wishing for it.
Terrano’s glance at Kaylin said, Is she for real. Kaylin glared in response—safely behind Mrs. Erickson so the old woman couldn’t see her expression.
“Kaylin talks about you a lot,” Terrano then said. Kaylin’s glare became a death glare. “So I wanted to see what you were like.”
“Oh.”
“She’s right, though—you’re definitely different. No,” he added quickly, “it’s a good different, not a bad one.”
“You mean I can see ghosts.”
“And not just ghosts,” he replied. “Because I’m definitely not dead.”
“I’m sure something could be arranged,” Kaylin muttered.
“Not by you,” Terrano shot back, having regained equilibrium. “So...we’re going to the Imperial Palace?”
Kaylin was certain her brows had disappeared into her hairline. “No. We’re going to the Imperial Palace.”
“The Imperial Guard won’t see me.”
Kaylin cleared her throat. “Mrs. Erickson will.”
“I’m accustomed to pretending I can’t around most people,” Mrs. Erickson said, in a tone that implied she felt sorry for Terrano, or at least for his exclusion.
Before Kaylin could speak, Teela said, “No.”
Given Terrano’s expression, she wasn’t the only member of the cohort to say so. Kaylin was fairly certain that Terrano would make the attempt regardless, but sometimes he surprised her; he listened to Sedarias. Given that Teela, a member of the cohort, intended to escort Kaylin, Terrano’s presence wasn’t required; Sedarias would be able to see and hear via Teela. And none of the cohort really wanted to anger a Dragon.
Teela did not drive the carriage, so Kaylin and Mrs. Erickson arrived at the palace in one piece, without losing anything they’d had the time to eat before the ride. Teela was giving Kaylin the stink eye for much of the ride because Kaylin’s attitude toward Teela driving was well-known. It was also well deserved in the cohort’s opinion, although Mandoran and Terrano were more ambivalent; Teela driving was never going to be boring, after all.
The palace steward’s face was made of stone, given his expression, but he did check his appointment book, and he did call for a page to escort the trio to Sanabalis’s office. The office itself hadn’t changed location; Sanabalis clearly hadn’t chosen an out-of-the-way room with a door that appeared by magic but couldn’t otherwise be seen. The former Arkon was famously grouchy when interrupted; Sanabalis wasn’t.
Given his expression when he opened the door, however, that was probably likely to change.
Kaylin didn’t understand the function of an Arkon within the Dragon Court. Given that Immortals had perfect memory, a keeper of history seemed almost irrelevant.
“Come in. Or stand outside in the hall while I close the door on you.” Sanabalis was speaking Elantran, not the High Barrani generally used by Imperial bureaucrats. Given how suspicious they were of Barrani, Kaylin had often wondered why High Barrani was the language used for almost all legal or bureaucratic work.
Then again, given how much she hated both, maybe that was the answer.
The orange-eyed Dragon looked at Kaylin, the gaze pointed.
“This is Mrs. Erickson of Orbonne Street. And this is Corporal Teela of the Hawks.”
Sanabalis turned to Mrs. Erickson. “I am Lord Sanabalis, Arkon of the Dragon Flights.”
Mrs. Erickson tilted her head as she studied the Dragon. She looked intrigued, not intimidated.
“Might I ask a question?”
“Certainly,” he replied. “You are the reason I allowed the corporal to interrupt my day’s work.” He smiled, and the orange in his eyes lightened.
“Is it not uncomfortable to contain quite so large a form in a body our size?”
His brows rose slightly; this was not the question he’d expected. He recovered quickly. “It is not uncomfortable at all; it was, when I was very new to adulthood.”
Mrs. Erickson nodded, as if that had answered a question. Kaylin guessed both that it had, and that the question hadn’t originated with Mrs. Erickson; she suspected Darreno was the original source. If Darreno was to be believed, he had been born during a time before the first Draco-Barrani war, but the antagonism between the two Immortal races had had long roots prior to that war’s start.
“Did Kaylin tell you why she wished me to meet with you?” the Dragon asked.
Mrs. Erickson looked down at her feet while she answered. “She wanted you to assess my magical potential.” She lifted her lined face and added, “I did tell her that I was tested for magical ability when I was a child, and the Imperial Mages said I had no potential, but she didn’t believe their assessment was accurate.”
“Indeed. Did she perhaps tell you why?”
At this, the old woman seemed to shrink about three inches. She glanced at Kaylin; Kaylin nodded in what she hoped was an encouraging fashion.
“She believes that my ability to see ghosts is somehow related to magical potential.”
“I see. Do you believe she’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. She’s the only other person who has ever seen my friends—I mean, my ghostly friends. But she thinks she sees them because of magic, and if that’s why, she thinks I...” She trailed off. Her hands curved into half fists; were it not for her wrinkles and her frailty, she could have been a much, much younger woman.
“It is possible for Imperial Mages to be mistaken in their assessments. If they were unaware of your ability to see things that others can’t see—or if they perhaps considered it a childhood conceit or fancy—they may have rushed through very, very standard tests.
“For how long were you assessed?”
“It was a long time ago,” she replied. “But I recall it being most of a morning.”
“Very standard tests. Do you wish Kaylin to remain while I personally assess your potential?”
“If it wouldn’t be too much of an imposition.”
“And the other corporal?”
“She’s one of Corporal Neya’s friends, and she’s a Hawk.” A long way of saying yes, which Sanabalis did not misinterpret. He walked to the door, opened it, and held it open for Mrs. Erickson. “Come with me. Most of the tests will be conducted in a location other than my office; there are too many interruptions and I dislike interruption when I am attempting to give a task my full concentration.”
Sanabalis led them past Imperial Guards toward a familiar set of doors: the Imperial Library. He opened the doors himself, which meant Kaylin didn’t have to touch them. The door wards on the library doors were special, and frequently raised an almost deafening alarm when touched by Kaylin; the Arkon had never chosen to make adjustments to the wards.
Kaylin wasn’t surprised to see the librarians behind the main desk; nor was she surprised when Sanabalis walked past them. He slowed his walking speed to accommodate Mrs. Erickson because she—like any first-time visitor to a library such as this—was glancing from side to side at the height of towering shelves, all of which contained books.
He walked past those books, and from there, past the shelves that, less impressive, contained fragile fragments of historical interest. This part of the collection was seldom seen, and never without appropriate permissions; the librarians were not allowed entry without them, either.
Beyond this were small halls and smaller doors, but Kaylin had a suspicion that the hall they would eventually take would not lead to any of the usual rooms the Arkon—Lannagaros—had occupied. Sanabalis passed them by, as expected. He then opened a door that led into a much darker space, gesturing light into being, as light was needed here. “I should make you do it,” he told Kaylin.
“It’s not my fault you’ve been too busy to teach me recently.”
“No. But your lack of practice can be laid at your feet; I feel at this point that consistent and constant practice would at least allow you to create a small light that would ease passage in darker spaces.”
“You’re learning magic?” Mrs. Erickson asked.
“She is fighting tooth and nail not to learn it,” Sanabalis replied, his voice a critical rumble.
“I’m allergic to magic,” Kaylin told Mrs. Erickson, feeling slightly guilty because she’d dragged the old woman here. “It makes my skin hurt.”
“Oh,” Mrs. Erickson replied, with a sympathetic tsk. “Are you going to be all right here today?”
“I wasn’t certain you’d want to come here alone. I mean, Sanabalis—Lord Sanabalis—the Arkon.” Gods, Kaylin hated titles. “The Arkon is a Dragon, and most people don’t interact much with Dragons.”
“He seems like a perfectly polite young man,” Mrs. Erickson said, as if to reassure Kaylin.
Sanabalis coughed. He was, in comparison to Mrs. Erickson’s lived years, beyond ancient. But Mrs. Erickson was hard to dislike, and almost impossible to find offensive unless your entire outlook on life depended on the ability to take offense. Kaylin had met a number of people like that, and she avoided them like the plague, which would probably be preferable.
“If you’d prefer we wait, we can do that, but I’m curious about the testing, and I’m almost certain the Arkon is going to have questions for me after the results are in.”
“Well, if it’s all right with you, I’m happy to have you there. It is all right?” she said, slightly anxiously, to the Dragon who’d be administering the test.
“It is. It is always helpful when the applicants are relaxed, and it appears that the corporal is here to offer support. In many cases parents would fill her role; we are accustomed to having observers.”
He continued down the dark hall, his voice echoing off the uneven walls.
The door opened into a familiar cavern—familiar, that is, to Kaylin. Teela, almost expressionless, was nonetheless looking around the cavern with genuine interest; this room was not a room she had ever seen before, and she seemed to be slightly surprised that she was allowed to accompany Kaylin into it.
Kaylin was almost positive the former Arkon would never have allowed it, and wondered if the Emperor knew Teela was here. She didn’t ask.
Sanabalis, however, was—as always—ahead of her. “I am certain,” he said, in High Barrani, “you are wondering why I have admitted you into this room.”
Teela’s nod was respectful. She didn’t have the cohort’s visceral fear of—or hatred for—Dragons, but she was always going to approach them with caution.
“There are two reasons. The first: you serve the Halls of Law. The second, more relevant, is your knowledge of both magic and Corporal Neya. It has not escaped the notice of any of the Dragon Court that the corporal is frequently at the center of highly unusual—and frequently dangerous—magical anomalies.”
Kaylin bit back any words she might have offered in return, because Mrs. Erickson was here and she didn’t want to even imply that all of the anomalies were the old woman’s fault. She watched Sanabalis carefully; he made no move to find the ladders that were used to reach the very large stone altar toward the back center of the room.
That altar was the Ancient’s version of a mirror. To invoke its use, the Dragons had to speak in their native tongue. Kaylin wasn’t certain what polite Draconic language was—but to mortal ears it all sounded like fury and imminent death. Possibly to Barrani ears as well.
To her eyes, that altar seemed to be shedding light. She frowned, but said nothing, turning her attention to Sanabalis and Mrs. Erickson. Sanabalis’s tests for magical potential—at least in Kaylin—were the tests usually administered by the Imperial College of mages. She suspected similar tests were conducted in the Academia, although magical potential there was not a prerequisite to entry.
Sanabalis clearly intended to skip all of it. Because of Kaylin. Was she nervous? Yes, a bit. But she knew what she’d seen, and she knew Mrs. Erickson wasn’t, as most assumed, crazy. She wasn’t hallucinating. Yes, she might be lonely, but her visits to the Halls of Law weren’t about her loneliness; they were about the isolation of four young ghosts.
Ghosts of children who had, in theory, died at the age of twenty-five.
“Mrs. Erickson, please stand here, in the center of the cavern.”
She did as bid immediately.
Sanabalis began to chant, the words low and sonorous, the voice tinged with a hint of Draconic rumble. The hair on Kaylin’s arms began to rise as her magic allergies kicked in. She kept the usual grimace off her face because Mrs. Erickson—in the presence of a Dragon—continually glanced at Kaylin to make sure Kaylin was all right.
When the light at the top of the altar flared to life, becoming an almost blinding white, Sanabalis’s syllables broke in what Kaylin assumed were the middle of words. He turned from Mrs. Erickson toward the altar itself and exhaled a steady stream of smoky breath.
“Corporal,” he snapped, “go get the ladders.”
There was no question about which corporal he meant.