It didn’t feel like a hand, although it retained the warmth of living flesh; it was too hard for that. Kaylin ignored her first instinct—to yank her hand back—in part because she was standing beside Mrs. Erickson, a civilian who wasn’t terrified by anything but the possibility that she wouldn’t be able to help.
Warmth filled her palm; she kept the hand as relaxed as she could, although her arm was tense. “Hope, can you help me out here?”
No.
He’d skipped the usual lecture about cost or price. Whatever she could see through the wing he had fastened across her eyes was all that he could see. “Can you lower the wing?”
That, he could do. Without the wing, she expected to see nothing: no light, no illumination, possibly normal Dragon eyes. She was wrong. Whatever it was that now lay across her hand was solid, hard; her fingers closed slightly at its weight, because the weight was increasing.
But what she saw without Hope’s wing was...a word.
It was a word very like the words that now spun slowly around her arms. Whatever Mrs. Erickson saw, Kaylin didn’t expect to see—but she hadn’t expected this. The word in her hand, heavy as it was, was very like other True Words she had touched before. It matched the color of the floating marks of the Chosen almost exactly.
“Whatever you’re doing,” Mrs. Erickson said, “keep doing it.”
“I’m just...holding out a hand.”
“You must be doing more than that. I can see...” She shook her head. “I think we’ll have your Dragon back soon.” She then looked away. “You mustn’t do to Kaylin what you’ve done to that poor Dragon Lord. She is trying to help you. We both are—but none of us know exactly what’s needed.”
The word shivered against Kaylin’s palm. Kaylin glanced past the word to Sanabalis. “Hope?”
He returned his wing to her face with a little more force than necessary; she looked through that wing to Sanabalis’s eyes. They were murky now, but the white that occupied their center was less brilliant, less all-encompassing. As she watched, color returned to the eyes—a crimson, unlidded red, moving from the edges until it once again covered everything but pupils.
The weight across her palm didn’t increase during this transition. The number of words did. They were similar in shape and size, but didn’t seem connected to her eye. They had an unusual complexity, very different from most of her own marks, as if they were meant to describe entire worlds. Tiny, delicate worlds.
“Are they—are they still talking to you?” Kaylin asked the old woman.
“Yes, dear—but very quietly now. They aren’t crying or screaming anymore.”
Kaylin had her eyes on an enraged Dragon. “Sanabalis?”
His voice, when it came, was an unintelligible rumble.
“They’re very sorry,” Mrs. Erickson said. Had Kaylin let go of her hand, she would have moved to stand in front of Kaylin.
“Teela?”
Teela stepped forward, inserting herself between the Dragon and the civilian. Terrano, however, moved to stand in front of Kaylin’s outstretched hands, his brow wrinkled in a blend of curiosity and confusion. “What do you see?” he asked.
“Words,” she replied. “I think they’re the same language as the marks of the Chosen, but they’re far more complicated. The only time I saw something close was...” She stopped. “Never mind.”
“I’m listening.”
Kaylin shrugged, uncomfortable now. The Devourer’s name had had form and complexity like this. So had the outcaste Dragon. In neither situation was the owner of those words in any way welcome, and she was afraid that similar conclusions might be drawn.
Because they should be.
Ah, Ynpharion, his voice laced with the usual frustration and disgust. It was almost a comfort, although she failed to respond.
Kaylin continued to speak to Terrano. “I’m not sure what to do with the words.”
“Have you done something like this before?”
“No.” Pause. “Yes. Maybe?”
Disgust in Ynpharion grew deeper and stronger, but it was less comforting because too much of it was aimed at himself. She wasn’t ever going to be his biggest admirer, but she thought there should be a limit to self-flagellation.
Except when you do it? the Barrani Lord asked. She ignored that, too.
Terrano rolled his eyes. “Let’s go with yes, to start.”
“Someone had a word on their brow and I...took it.”
“You took it.”
“Yeah—it was during the time when you were causing serious trouble for the rest of us.”
Terrano winced. “Okay, so maybe we start with the maybe.”
Teela glared at him. “What did you do with the word?”
“If I remember right, I stuck it on my forehead. On my skin. It—I think it was a Barrani True Word.”
“There are no Barrani True Words,” the Dragon said, the crimson in his eyes slowly fading into the more normal red that indicated anger. “There are True Words.”
“Can you see them?”
“No. Not without interference.” He exhaled smoke and ash, but had the grace to turn his head to the side before he did. “I believe magical interference is inadvisable at this juncture.” His form slowly dwindled into the far more familiar Lord Sanabalis. Kaylin knew that Dragons could wear magical clothing that somehow survived the human-to-Dragon transition and back; he appeared to be wearing it now.
“Mrs. Erickson, I have a few questions to ask.”
“Of course. I’ll answer the ones I can—but people often don’t think my answers make enough sense.”
“They would. I do not believe I will have that problem. And I believe that the corporal may now safely let go of your hand.”
Kaylin’s hand was numb, except for the parts that were painfully tingly. She attempted to force her fingers to move enough to let go of Mrs. Erickson’s hand; she knew an order when she heard it.
“So...you think Mrs. Erickson has magical potential?”
“I am uncertain that you would call it potential in the traditional sense that either the mortals or the Barrani employ,” Sanabalis replied. “But if the events of today were entirely unpredictable—and believe that they were—there is a reason that I asked her to come here for the possible tests we could administer.
“The mage responsible for her first test is dead—of old age, I hasten to add. But he was not fully apprised of how unusual her circumstances are; there are tests that might have been performed that he would not have considered relevant.”
Kaylin rolled her eyes.
“They are old tests, and they have fallen much out of fashion. I admit it likely that it would not have occurred to him to provide those tests.”
“Because he wouldn’t have known of them?” Teela asked, voice level.
“Perhaps. The Arcanum spends more time delving into schools of magic that would not be considered entirely practical—but would be considered dangerous or forbidden in the Imperial school.”
Mrs. Erickson blanched. So did Kaylin.
“Ah, forgive me. I criticize the Arcanum, as is our wont; I am not in any way implying that Mrs. Erickson was engaged in illegal, forbidden arts. At one point in the history of what has become the Imperial Collegium, such tests could be conducted, but they were not considered as relevant because while potential could be indicated by elements of those tests, that potential could not be taught. It could not be schooled.”
“Is becoming a student here free?” Kaylin asked.
“I am certain there are times when you will not think about monetary aspects of most things,” was the severe reply—a reply which suggested now would be a good time to start.
Kaylin said, “I need to eat. I’m not a Dragon Lord. I might be considered a Lord of the Barrani High Court, but it’s not like they’re paying me—and without money, I starve. Or freeze.” She folded her arms as Teela sighed. Loudly.
“You will forgive her, I hope,” she said in High Barrani. “She is young, even for one of her kind.”
“I am well aware of both her youth and her predilections, and I have not yet reduced her to ash—although on some days it has been tempting. To answer your question, yes. In cases where becoming a student would cause financial hardship, we teach without fee. I would imagine that we will see fewer students in the immediate future, given the rise of the Academia.” His eyes had paled to orange with red flecks, which was about as good as could be hoped for.
“Mrs. Erickson, I believe you are what was once called, in various mortal cultures, a shaman. In the opinion of the learned, mortal shamans did not actually exist. The promise of communication with the beloved and departed was a way to part people from their money.”
“And now?” Kaylin asked, her temper in check because she immediately thought of Margot the Elani street charlatan, which always soured her mood.
“There is no question in my mind. I have never met a mortal shaman—but in my existence, I have met only one who would qualify as a shaman at all. The purpose was not to seek the spirits of the departed—that is not the way our kind, or the Barrani, work. The words that are our breath of life return to where they were first placed by the Ancients who were responsible for the creation of our race.
“But where there is thought and will and even fear, there is study. This would not be considered auspicious.”
“Among Dragons?”
“Ah, no. You mistake me. Among Dragons it would be considered impossible. As such, the mages of the Imperial College may well have considered the information they were given highly suspect—many are the students who desired a place in the College in Mrs. Erickson’s childhood. But I cannot doubt what I have seen. If Mrs. Erickson is amenable, I would like to conduct those tests, but perhaps in a less...fraught...environment.
“And now, Corporal, I must ask the obvious question.”
Kaylin knew what it was, but waited.
“What will you do with the...words you now carry?”
“Take them home,” she replied. “If they agree.” She glanced at Mrs. Erickson. Mrs. Erickson nodded and began to speak, asking questions in Elantran, but receiving answers in a language no one present could understand.
“When the Ancients provided their blood to activate this mirror,” Kaylin began.
Sanabalis lifted a hand. “We will not discuss that here. While the room is secure, there are cracks in the protections; I believe you are aware of at least one.”
“But the Arkon said—”
“The Arkon says,” Sanabalis rumbled.
“Yes, sir.” She hesitated. “I don’t think the words are dead. I mean, I don’t think they’re whatever ghosts are for gods.”
“And I’m certain you have very solid reasons for that,” he replied, in a tone that implied the opposite. “I do not see what you see, and I am reluctant to begin the magicks that would allow me to apprehend True Words, given the events of the day.”
“Were you aware of them?” Terrano asked, interrupting them, the question meant for the recently possessed Dragon.
“Yes.”
“And Mrs. Erickson’s interpretation is right?”
“I find it exceedingly gentle, given events—but it is clear to me that whatever possessed me could hear her—and only her. I do not think Kaylin would be in possession of new words were it not for Mrs. Erickson. I envy you, ma’am,” he added to the older woman, his voice softening.
“And not fear?” Teela asked, her voice soft in an entirely different way.
“There is an element of fear, yes—but I consider that pragmatic. I will need to confer with the Dragon Court.”
“And what happens to Mrs. Erickson?” It was Teela again, speaking quickly as if she intended to interrupt before Kaylin could.
“Mrs. Erickson is free to return to her home,” he replied. “I assume that the corporal will escort her. It is not Mrs. Erickson that is my current concern, or rather, not my sole concern; I am far more disturbed by the...ghosts. They are not echoes or attenuations in the way they might once have been in the distant past; we do not, as I said, have ghosts in the sense that mortals fear them.”
“I’ve seen mortal ghosts.”
“Yes. That is a concern. But if what you said was correct, those ghosts—”
Kaylin immediately stepped forward and interrupted the Arkon. There were things she didn’t want to share with Mrs. Erickson, and the eventual fate of the children trapped in her house as ghosts was one of them.
“If you want to escort me, or want me to go with you to talk to Lannagaros, I’m free.”
“I wish you to stop by your home first and discuss the situation with Helen,” he replied. “I will reach out to you when I have fully digested the events, and I will speak separately with Lannagaros; I believe he would—in other circumstances—find it fascinating.” He said this with a twist of lips, but turned at last to Terrano. “Young man, I do not believe it wise for you to attempt to either see or hear as Mrs. Erickson does. Your existence is far too tenuous.
“If you wish to make the attempt, I ask that you have An’Teela present; she is far more grounded, and far less likely to fall prey to the trap that almost consumed me.”
Terrano looked highly disgruntled; he opened his mouth, but snapped it shut again, wincing. Kaylin was certain that he was now getting an earful of Sedarias—and Sedarias was on the Dragon’s side.
“Fine. Fine. But I live with Kaylin, so I’ll be accompanying her home.”
“Perhaps I might suggest that Corporal Neya visit her home before she escorts Mrs. Erickson to hers,” Sanabalis then said.
Kaylin looked to Mrs. Erickson, who fidgeted. “I need to check in with Helen,” Kaylin said. “And I’m sure you’d like her.”
“Helen is your roommate?”
“Ummm, no. It’s a bit complicated. Terrano is my housemate. He and his friends. Helen isn’t my mother,” she said quickly; she felt it likely that would be Mrs. Erickson’s next question. “She’s my home.”
This didn’t appear to make things any clearer. “I’m just worried about leaving the children at home alone,” she confessed. “They fret.”
“We won’t stay,” Kaylin said quickly. “But...if these...ghosts can possess a Dragon, they’re dangerous.”
“There’s no guarantee they won’t be able to possess Helen,” Terrano cheerfully said. Given his expression, he didn’t consider it a credible risk, but felt the need to point it out.
Kaylin almost blanched.
“I don’t think they’ll do that again,” Mrs. Erickson quickly said. “But I can’t promise. Could you maybe bring them to my house instead?”
Sanabalis growled. There was only one answer, and Kaylin dutifully offered it. “No.” To the Dragon she added, “Mrs. Erickson can talk to them; they can hear her. I’m not sure they’ll be able to hear me. Or us. They couldn’t hear Terrano, and he’s the most flexible of all of us.”
“And Mrs. Erickson cannot remain with you?”
“I’d love it if she could—I think Helen would enjoy her company. But the children are trapped in Mrs. Erickson’s house, and we can’t ask her to abandon them.”
“The children don’t appear capable of possessing people.”
Kaylin nodded. “Mrs. Erickson is a civilian. I can’t order her to leave her house. Neither can you.”
“That is true.”
Kaylin exhaled.
“The Emperor, however, can.”
Kaylin switched immediately to High Barrani. “That is not a good idea. Mrs. Erickson has done nothing wrong. She has broken no Imperial Law. Taking her into custody for her own safety is something she has to request.”
“If she is considered a threat to the safety of civilians, that is not the case.”
“She’s not a threat—your private, hidden room powered by the literal blood of the Ancients is!”
“Kitling,” Teela said.
Kaylin inhaled, lowering her chin briefly. When she raised it again, she said, “Mrs. Erickson is not a threat. If her presence gave desperate hope to the dead, that is not her doing. No warning was given to any of us.”
“Had we been in possession of that information, I assure you we would not now be in this chamber.”
“Which was your decision, not hers. She has been terrified enough for one day. I will return to Helen, and from there, escort Mrs. Erickson to her home.”
Mrs. Erickson wasn’t Kaylin or Teela or Terrano—who was no doubt always doing something dangerous, both to himself and others—she was a civilian. A lonely old woman who happened to bake for the Hawks who listened to her outlandish ghost stories. Well, no, her very mundane ghost stories, but still.
Kaylin was a Hawk for a reason.
“Perhaps you wish to speak with the Emperor yourself.”
“Perhaps I do,” Kaylin replied, standing her ground. “The chain of command doesn’t allow the Emperor to break the law.”
“The Emperor is the law.”
“That’s not the oath we swear.”
“An’Teela?” Sanabalis continued to glare at Kaylin as he spoke.
“She is, of course, correct. But I am Barrani; I do not expect simple words—written or spoken—to have true weight. I will note, however, that most of the people who have sworn the Imperial oath are mortals without the necessary experience with legal treachery.”
Sanabalis exhaled a stream of smoke. “I see.” He then turned to Mrs. Erickson, switching into Elantran. “Mrs. Erickson, you have shown evidence of an ancient magical ability today. It is not well understood by the Imperial College, but I am not solely a student of that modern college. I am uncertain what caused the events of today—events I am sure you will agree were not entirely safe.”
She nodded.
“Kaylin is concerned about the disposition of the ghosts you see. If they attempt to possess someone again, they might cause damage in the attempt. As a matter of concern, we would ask that you either remain within the palace—where rooms will be provided for you—or remain within Kaylin’s domicile. We are given to understand that you have responsibilities to children in your care. Are they of an age to understand the concern?”
“Understand it? Yes. I’m not sure they’ll accept it so easily.”
“Then you must decide whether your responsibility to the pathos of the dead outweighs your responsibility not to add to their number.”
Kaylin was outraged, and turned to Mrs. Erickson.
Mrs. Erickson met—without evident fear—the eyes of the Dragon Lord. “I understand,” she said. “Yes, if Kaylin can escort me both to her home and to mine, I will—if it is acceptable to Kaylin—remain in her custody.”
“You’re not in my custody. My house is not a jail.”
“Your house was the only home considered safe enough to house Bellusdeo,” Sanabalis replied, his eyes once again losing their red. “It is both for her safety and for ours that I ask this of both of you.”
“Corporal,” Mrs. Erickson said, “he is not attempting to bully me. He asked, and it is a reasonable request. I have agreed. You can, however, refuse.”
Terrano snorted. “She can’t. She’s just mad because she wanted to have a screaming fight with a Dragon.” To Kaylin he added, “Sedarias says you can have a screaming fight with her if it will make you feel better—she’s outraged.”
And not on Mrs. Erickson’s behalf, either.
“Fine.”
To no one’s surprise, Sanabalis chose to join them in their walk to Kaylin’s home. He chatted with Mrs. Erickson; he could be charming, an adjective she would never have thought to use before. Mrs. Erickson was polite, but clearly charming Dragons were not an impossibility in her experience, given how little she actually had.
But she often turned to Kaylin, and in particular to Kaylin’s cupped hands; she offered those hands an encouraging smile. If she was self-conscious about talking to ghosts in public, none of that showed; she had chosen possible embarrassment over social fear.
On the other hand, Teela—who accompanied them—and Terrano, who was on the way home as well, knew that she wasn’t talking to nothing.
Sanabalis couldn’t drop back to speak privately to Kaylin; he looked like he wanted to, but Mrs. Erickson’s presence prevented that. Kaylin wasn’t certain whether or not to be grateful. Although Sanabalis was shockingly charming, his eyes remained predominantly orange; Kaylin wondered if it took effort to keep the flecks of red there to a minimum.
Most humans had no interaction with Dragons, but red eyes always looked slightly threatening.
Helen was waiting at the open door; she came out the moment Kaylin crossed the threshold. From a distance, it should have been difficult to see the color of Helen’s eyes; it wasn’t. They were obsidian. She did, however, wear her normal clothing, and her expression, if you didn’t notice her eyes, was gentle and welcoming.
She offered Sanabalis a nod—not a bow. “Welcome, Arkon.”
“Yes,” Sanabalis said.
Helen’s eyes did not revert to their normal color. “Please, come in.” She then turned to Mrs. Erickson, her expression far less welcoming than Kaylin had expected, which, given Helen’s welcome of the cohort—one of whom had arguably tried to kill Kaylin—came as a shock.
The expression did soften. “Please forgive me,” she said, voice soft. “I...heard a cause for alarm on the perimeter, and you catch me at my most wary. Please, come in.” She moved out of the doorway. When she glanced back at Kaylin, her eyes were their normal brown, and her expression, careworn but warm. “Hello, An’Teela. It is approaching dinnertime—will you stay?”
Teela nodded, her eyes midnight.
Helen wasn’t human. She had never been human. She turned to Kaylin. “What do you carry?”
“I...I think they’re words.”
“They are,” Helen replied. “But what do you intend for them? They are old words, Kaylin, and even when my memory was not so fractured, I do not think I would have been able to speak them, to read them.”
Kaylin glanced at Mrs. Erickson. “Mrs. Erickson thinks they’re ghosts.”
Helen’s brow furrowed, but it was brief; Kaylin knew she had given up on polite questions and was, instead, shuffling through Kaylin’s memories, looking for what ghost meant. Her brows rose, and she turned to Sanabalis, who waited.
He nodded.
“Oh, my dear,” Helen said to Mrs. Erickson. The Avatar held out both of her hands, palm up, and almost without thought, Mrs. Erickson placed hers over them. “I am so terribly, terribly sorry. Come in. Here, unless you desire it, you will not hear their voices.”
Mrs. Erickson looked almost shocked, but beneath the veneer of surprise was something infinitely sadder. “These voices,” she said, “I have to hear. They—they possessed Lord Sanabalis. If it had happened in the streets people would have been hurt.”
Helen nodded.
“Can you hear them?” Mrs. Erickson then asked, her voice shaky with, Kaylin realized, hope.
“I can’t. Not the way you can. No one present will be able to do that, although Terrano is likely to give himself a monthlong headache trying. He does believe you. He can sense something—but he is a very unusual boy.”
“Can you safely contain what Kaylin now carries?” It was the Arkon who asked.
Helen nodded. “I believe the High Halls could do so as well. But I do not believe these words should be brought anywhere near the Barrani Lake of Life. Nor do I believe that they should be brought anywhere near the words at the heart of any building such as I, any building constructed by the Ancients, who have long vanished.”
“What do you fear will occur?”
Helen shook her head. “I have no specific fear; it is at best a guess made from a position of caution. All of us have methods of protecting those words, but when those protections are breeched, we are easily lost. Mrs. Erickson said you were possessed by these ghosts—do you understand the mechanism?”
“Ah, no.”
“Were you aware of the possession? Were you aware of yourself?”
“This is not a conversation I am willing to have in such a public fashion,” Sanabalis said, after a long pause. He shook his head. “I am old for this, and I, too, operate from the dictates of caution. I cannot trust you as Kaylin trusts you.” He exhaled a thin stream of smoke. “But I came this way for two reasons. If you feel you can safely house these guests, I will take some comfort in that.”
“That is one reason.”
“I wished to know if you could hear or see what Mrs. Erickson can.”
“Of course not,” Helen replied, looking genuinely confused.
“Of course?”
“She was born with the gifts she now possesses. It is as much a part of who and what she is as your breath, your ability to transform, is to you. But hers are far rarer and far more complicated. Kaylin is Chosen, even if she does not fully understand the weight of the power and responsibility that comes with it. Mrs. Erickson’s gift—if it can be called that—is as rare, in my limited experience, as the marks of the Chosen. It is not nearly as well-known.”
“How came you to know of it?” Sanabalis’s voice was soft, but the orange of his eyes deepened in color.
Helen was silent.
It was a silence Kaylin recognized. “She can’t answer you.”
“Can’t?”
“Won’t. It involves a former tenant.”
Sanabalis searched Helen’s carefully neutral expression. “My apologies,” he said. “My concerns are not the only concerns present; they are pressing to me for what I hope are obvious reasons.”
Helen smiled. “Mrs. Erickson might speak to you more about her experiences, if you have the time; I am not certain those experiences will answer your questions.” She lowered her chin for a moment. When she raised it, the line of her shoulders tensed. “But I believe Mrs. Erickson has a rare gift, and a much stronger one than any I have encountered.
“I cannot move, as you well know; my knowledge has therefore been secondhand, if my observations were my own. It is possible that I am mistaken; that there are others who have the same strength of gift, and about whom information never reached me.” To Mrs. Erickson, she said, “If you would speak with the spirits Kaylin now carries, it is safe to do so here. It is safe to do so in the presence of Lord Sanabalis—or any other person of power you might encounter.
“It is not, in my opinion, completely safe for Kaylin to carry what she has carried—but Kaylin is my tenant, and my concern for her well-being is perhaps coloring that opinion.” To Kaylin she said, “I have a room for your guests, if you would follow me. Mrs. Erickson, if you wish to see them safely housed, you may also join us.”
She notably did not include anyone else in that invitation.
Sanabalis wasn’t foolish; he took the hint. He looked only slightly nonplussed when Helen split in two. To be fair to him, Kaylin found it surprising as well, although she shouldn’t have. Helen was not her Avatar; there was no reason that her Avatar could not exist in as many places as she desired. It’s just that Kaylin had never seen one version step out from the other.
“Allow me to offer you refreshments, Lord Sanabalis. I will find a quiet parlor in which we two might converse.”
Terrano immediately grimaced.
“Yes, dear. I feel that it is best for the moment to be able to fully focus on my answers to Lord Sanabalis’s questions without constant interruption or correction.”
“A moment, Helen,” the Arkon said.