Page 75 of Cast in Atonement

Kaylin nodded, distracted. She walked more quickly to reach the painting, and stopped in front of it. Hope squawked loudly.

“I know,” she told him.

“What do you know?” Evanton demanded, his tone the sharp snap he seemed to reserve for disappointing Hawks.

“The pillars,” she replied, without looking back. “There are words engraved on them.”

Silence.

You don’t see words?

No.

“Does anyone else see the words?”

More silence.

“Terrano,” Evanton said, in the same sharp tone. “Does this painting still serve the function of a portal?”

“I think so. Before, I could see a door. I can’t see one now, but it feels like a door is here. And closed.”

“My apologies, Mrs. Erickson. My eyes are not as good as the eyes of the young here, and I need to be a bit closer to the painting to examine it properly. I will leave you with Lord Bellusdeo, but ask that you keep your distance. I am not at all certain that the painting is safe to approach.”

“Then why are you approaching it?” Kaylin demanded.

He glared in her direction.

“I mean it. Severn and I are here, and we’re Hawks. You’re the Keeper, Evanton—and you don’t have a successor. Bellusdeo is a fieflord now, and Towers don’t function well without a captain.”

“I’m not a fieflord, and I’m not a Keeper,” Terrano said, grinning—which was very disturbing given the composition of his eyes. “Neither is Mandoran. We can do what you want.”

“No, you cannot,” Evanton replied, ignoring them.

The natural respect—even awe—that some of the cohort felt for the authority and position of the Keeper was entirely absent. Then again, it was Terrano; Mandoran wasn’t being cheeky. He’d been on almost suspiciously good behavior since they’d left the house—so much so, it was almost like he wasn’t here at all.

“Hope—please please please keep an eye on Evanton.”

Squawk.

“Do not even think of landing on my shoulder. Your master is far more tolerant than I will ever be.”

Squawk.

“I understand that. But if I were the type of person to hide behind someone else’s familiar every time there is a possibility of danger, I would not have survived my apprenticeship, and I would have failed in the garden. I am not reckless, and I lack the impetuousness of youth.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Terrano began.

“You do not strike me as a young man who recognizes good ideas. Be silent. I need to listen.”

Had Evanton been a foundling, Kaylin would have said you listen with your ears, not your hands the minute he lifted an arm. She tensed, glancing at Bellusdeo. Bellusdeo had retreated down the hall with Mrs. Erickson, as if Mrs. Erickson was the only person of value in this place.

Kaylin would have done the same had she not been standing as close to Evanton as possible. Severn had quietly taken up position on the other side of the Keeper, to one side of Terrano, who remained by the painting.

It was hard to gauge his expression because his eyes were so unnatural, but she thought he, too, was alert—and he was looking at things she couldn’t see.

“Terrano—do you see words?” Kaylin asked, voice low.

“No. But the pillars don’t quite look like pillars to me—not right now. I can see what Mandoran is looking at; it’s not the same.”

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