Page 40 of Cast in Atonement

“The Ancients were sometimes called the lords of law and the lords of chaos,” Androsse said. “You have seen their work in the races that populate your city; you have never seen the grandeur of their labors as it once existed in Ravellon. The Ancients created the Towers that exist to this day in your fiefs.

“They created the Academia. They created this library—the finest of their achievements, the repository of all learning, the remnant of dead worlds, and the evidence of worlds that have not yet come to their end. But they have deserted us, their many, many children; they have left the worlds an empty, mundane place. We assumed, we eldest, that they had left to create different worlds, different planes; that they had chosen to walk in a fashion that we, lesser in all ways, could not survive.

“And you tell us that one is dead? They are deathless, Chosen.”

“Azoria had bound them. I freed them. I think she was attempting to drain their power. She’d already managed to do this with her own people—Barrani—and there was a power in this Ancient that far exceeded her own kind’s.

“I think she was trying to create a new language, a different truth—at least for herself. I think she was trying to change her True Name.”

“Azoria did not—and would never—have the power to bind an Ancient!”

“Not a living one, no. But a corpse? A body?”

Androsse looked scandalized; it was the first time Kaylin had seen that expression on his face. He then turned to Kavallac. “It appears you may not have been entirely mistaken about Azoria.”

Kavallac exhaled smoke. “You have always been too appreciative of boundless ambition.” Her voice was quieter, less rumbling, as she accepted Androsse’s no doubt extremely rare peace offering.

“But after I broke the words she’d tried to create, the Ancient woke. They said they were dead. I’m not a shaman—you’ve done your research, right?—so the dead don’t speak to me the usual way. This one did. I think... I found it hard to talk to them. I wasn’t even certain my voice could reach them. But they said they were dead because they had fulfilled their purpose.”

“What purpose?” Androsse’s voice was a snap of sound.

“I don’t know. I didn’t ask. I think...if they’re truly endless, death is about change, to them. But I didn’t ask a lot of questions.”

Androsse was a pot of simmering frustration, but it didn’t boil over. “I am uncertain that I would be able to properly question such a being, so your poor effort must be forgiven.” By his tone, very reluctantly. “Has Mrs. Erickson interacted with the Ancient?”

Kaylin shook her head. “I’m not sure the Emperor would approve of that, either.”

The chancellor agreed, but Kaylin was now thinking. If the ghosts Mrs. Erickson was babysitting came somehow from the blood of the Ancients, if they had been trapped in, part of, the ancient mirror at the heart of the Imperial Palace, maybe the Ancient themselves would be able to help Mrs. Erickson. Or help the ghosts.

“Mrs. Erickson doesn’t use power consciously.” But even as the words left Kaylin’s mouth, she hesitated; Mrs. Erickson had used her power consciously—after getting Jamal’s permission. She had promised Jamal she would never do something again. Which meant she’d done it at least once in the distant past.

Bellusdeo cleared her throat in full draconic fashion. “She spoke to the ghosts of my sisters deliberately.”

“Yes—but she spoke to them the way she’d speak to any of us. I mean, anyone alive. When she was younger, she couldn’t even tell the difference. The dead don’t look like corpses to her. They don’t look the way they did at death. She meant to speak to them, yes—they were upset and isolated, and she’s the type of gentle soul who reaches out. I don’t think she can stop herself.”

“It’s why you like her so much,” the gold Dragon replied. “And I understand why you’re worried for her.” Bellusdeo swallowed.

The chancellor very gently placed a hand on her left shoulder. “The research done here, the research done by Helen, will help Mrs. Erickson to better understand—and help—your sisters.”

To Kaylin’s shock, Bellusdeo turned toward the chancellor. “Lannagaros—I know. I know. But she said they were weeping. I survived. I was the only one who survived. My name is their name.”

“It is all of your names,” was his quiet reply. Kaylin had never seen Bellusdeo look so young. “It has always been thus. We are expendable. The mothers of the Aeries are not.”

“Then why are they weeping? Did I do this to them? Am I doing something now that I’m not even aware of?”

“I cannot answer that question. But I remember you. I remember all of your sisters. They were the most difficult hatchlings in the Aerie—possibly in any Aerie. Perhaps it is why I can tolerate Terrano; he reminds me of your sisters. Mrs. Erickson did you no kindness, but she wants to help. And if I understand what has happened, she doesn’t know how. It would be safe for her to interact with your sisters, and if it brings you comfort, you might ask Helen if you can visit more often.

“But you are a Tower lord now. You cannot simply abandon your fief. I promise that the Arbiters are giving their research their full attention; if not before, certainly now. But this is new to us. You will help your sisters, but if Mrs. Erickson’s power is not understood, unintentional damage might be done. The consequences of that power have already been seen once. The Emperor is aware of her existence; he is aware of her lack of malicious intent.

“But tidal waves and earthquakes have no malice. We are attempting to understand whether or not she is, or will be, a cataclysmic disaster, and the Arbiters have thrown all of their vast powers of research into that very question. I understand your urgency—but inasmuch as it is possible, be patient. You have duties to the living that I fear you have been neglecting; concentrate on those. You cannot drag the corporal to the Academia every single night until you have answers.”

Kaylin was grateful for the chancellor’s intervention. Bellusdeo quieted, but her eyes were pure copper, shadowed and dark.

“What has research unearthed?” It was the chancellor who asked, taking the reins of the discussion from Kaylin’s hands.

“If we assume that Mrs. Erickson is not a Necromancer, very little.”

“And if you assume she is?”

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