Page 35 of Cast in Atonement

“I met her on prior occasions. Had I imagined you would ever come in contact with her, I might have warned you to avoid her at all costs.” His frown shifted. “Your instincts are generally good, and the warning itself may have been irrelevant. She is dead?”

Kaylin nodded. “I would say she’s been almost entirely dead for centuries.”

“Corporal, I have had a very trying month.”

Kaylin glanced at Bellusdeo. The gold Dragon’s eyes were orange, her expression neutral. “It’s a bit of a long story.”

“Do your best to tell it in coherent order.”

Evanton listened as she began. She focused on the past events and failed to mention Bellusdeo’s sisters at all—if the gold Dragon wanted him to know, she’d tell him, and if she didn’t want him to know—well, Kaylin wasn’t the Keeper, and could survive far less ire.

He interrupted many times.

“You found two people Azoria An’Berranin had imprisoned in a painting.”

Kaylin nodded. “They’re still alive. I think they’re in the High Halls right now. They were imprisoned when Elantra didn’t exist; they were slaves. Elantra as a concept interests and frightens them.” She hesitated, and then said, “I was thinking that they might find a home in the Academia, but that’s not up to me.”

“How did you find them?”

“Mrs. Erickson found them. They were, to her eyes, ghosts: people she could see and speak with, that no one else could see and speak with. I could see them only when Hope lifted a wing and placed it across my eyes. It’s why I thought they might not actually be dead.”

“Mrs. Erickson saw the dead in the palace?”

Kaylin nodded.

“You could not?”

“Not easily, no—and I can’t see them the way she sees them. To her, they look like people. I’m sure she could describe age, facial features, gender, if asked.”

“Interesting. What did you see?”

“I see words. I see True Words. The size can vary, but the shape of the words don’t. Before you ask, no, I don’t recognize their meaning. But when they possessed Sanabalis...”

“These ghosts possessed the current Arkon?”

Kaylin nodded. “I can’t explain that part. It’s true, they did—and they let him go because of Mrs. Erickson. She was pleading with them; she said they were very upset and afraid.”

Evanton pinched the bridge of his nose. “Where are these ghosts now?”

“In my house.”

“They reside within Helen?”

“Yes. It’s been a bit tricky.”

Evanton’s final interruption—if one didn’t count criticisms of Kaylin’s architectural knowledge and therefore description—came when she talked about the outlands to which Azoria’s painting of herself had been connected.

Evanton was human at base, so the color of his eyes didn’t change, but his expression became an iron mask as he took in what she had to say.

“I would ask you what you’ve done, but your answers would be frustrating—at best. You found a dead Ancient in the outlands—one bound by Azoria; she had shaped the words, or some of the words, at the heart of the corpse into a language that had nothing to do with them: her own words, her attempt to rewrite her own name.”

“That’s what I think she was doing. I can’t ask. I don’t think her ghost, for want of a better word, lingers. Mrs. Erickson could ask her if it did, but...”

“But you feel protective of her.”

Kaylin shrugged.

“Have you returned to speak with the Ancient who is not, by any stretch of our own concept of death, dead?”

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