Page 39 of Cast in Atonement

“That’s the problem. I could, with effort, see them. Terrano, with effort, can see something. But they don’t look like they were ever alive in any way I understand life—not to me. Mrs. Erickson sees them as people. Normal people. Upset and uncertain people. She could coax them into my house, and Helen has tried to create rooms or containments for them.”

“And that has worked?”

Kaylin grimaced. “It’s a work in progress.”

“This is relevant, then.”

“More than relevant, sadly. But these ghosts were in the Imperial Palace; there were many ghosts in the phased house attached to Mrs. Erickson’s home, but they were all human, or had been when they were alive.” She inhaled again. “I think the elementals in the Keeper’s garden had become at least peripherally aware of the work Azoria An’Berranin was doing before her death; something about her work had begun to overlap our world, although she did most of it from a pocket space.”

Starrante clicked as Serralyn came into view; she made a beeline for Starrante and stood just in front of him—as Robin, one of the Academia’s human students, often did when in the Arbiter’s presence.

“What work, then?” Starrante said, his eyes lifted from his body.

“I’m sure she kept notes. Not all of those notes might overlap our current research—but I think some probably should, if notebooks make their way here.” Kaylin inhaled and then exhaled slowly.

Starrante clicked for a long moment before replying. “That will depend. The library boasts a collection of all written endeavor—but that writing occurs in what you would consider our reality. Your reality. The extensive search might take too long,” he added, “to be of use to Mrs. Erickson.”

Kaylin shook her head and decided to lay all of her remaining cards on the figurative table. “Azoria found the remnants of a dead Ancient in the outlands. She was using their corpse, and the power inherent in it, for some goal of her own.”

07

The silence that followed was so complete, even breath didn’t disturb it. Eyes flickered, shifting color as the statement was absorbed. Even Bellusdeo was staring at the side of Kaylin’s head. The chancellor, like Kavallac, was still, his eyes a red-flecked orange.

It was Androsse who recovered first. “What exactly do you mean by a dead Ancient?”

It was a damn good question. Kaylin glanced at Terrano. She wanted him to answer it. He was tight-lipped. Serralyn was silent as well, her eyes a dark blue. Great.

“Did Bakkon not mention it?”

“I am not certain Bakkon was aware of it; I am certain he would have had much to say, otherwise,” Starrante replied. His eyes were also red, and half of them had extended to their full height.

Kavallac’s rumble contained no words. When she found them, they were curt and visceral. “Answer the Arbiter’s question, Chosen.” Not Corporal, Chosen.

“I don’t fully understand it myself. Azoria had created a space adjacent to our world; it existed beside a small bungalow in an otherwise decent neighborhood. That bungalow was occupied by Mrs. Erickson, who now lives with me. Azoria was clearly capable of creating pocket spaces with ease; I think—and I’m not certain—that she began to experiment while the High Halls wasn’t fully active, as it is now; she certainly understood how to reach what I call the outlands.

“I think she must have started with paintings, and she refined them; she could draw power from trapped, living Barrani. She could, I think, draw power from their True Names, even if she couldn’t read them or speak them.”

“Barrani are not Ancients,” Androsse said, eyes narrow.

“You knew Azoria.”

“He did,” Kavallac said, the words tinged with anger. The two were prone to heated arguments, which no rational person wanted—but if they started, the meeting in the library would be over. Bellusdeo wouldn’t get access to the fruits of their reluctant research, but Kaylin wouldn’t be on the hot seat, being interrogated.

“I don’t know how she found the Ancient, but it was clear she could already manipulate the matter of the outlands to some extent. But by this point, I think she understood how to draw power from True Names, from True Words—and I think the Ancients are fully stuffed with them. I think it’s their blood—literal blood.” She hesitated and glanced at the former Arkon. “The ancient mirror at the heart of the Imperial Palace—”

The chancellor lifted a hand. “There are things about which we do not speak in the presence of outsiders.”

Kaylin couldn’t decide if that meant the Arbiters, the cohort, or her. The Arbiters were the power in the room, if room was the right word, but she’d leave the library, and the chancellor remained part of the Dragon Court, which included the Emperor, her ultimate boss, who was also not trapped in the library.

She had seen that ancient mirror, and had seen the fragments of its past, its creation: the blood of Ancients had been shed there, to give the mirror power.

That wasn’t the way mirrors were created now.

And calling it a mirror was wrong; it was just convenient, a way of understanding its function. It could be a mirror. But it could also be a graveyard. It was from this mirror that the ghosts of words had risen when Mrs. Erickson had walked into the cavern.

Kaylin understood death. It was the worst part of her job: murder, the collection and dissection of corpses, the need to find the killer to bring them to justice—or at least prevent them from making more victims. She’d seen Barrani corpses, had stood beside Red in the morgue when he examined human corpses.

No experience with death made sense of either Mrs. Erickson’s ghosts or the being Kaylin had found in the outlands: the Ancient, who, while dead, could still speak.

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