Evanton did eat, but his gaze was now focused on Mrs. Erickson. She had one of nature’s quiet voices. If the cohort had not fallen silent, it would have been harder to hear what she had to say.
She spoke about the children first: Jamal, Esmeralda, Callis, Katie. Evanton nodded; he did not interrupt her almost nostalgic musing. Only when she spoke of the beautiful artist who had painted the Swindon family’s portrait did his eyes narrow, but he nodded regardless.
Mrs. Erickson, having spent so much of her time telling stories of her daily life to the children trapped in her house, had a good sense of narrative. When Kaylin tried to tell people what had happened, she often had to backtrack, to fill in things she hadn’t mentioned earlier. Most people did. Mrs. Erickson didn’t.
“Kaylin got involved because some of your friends—friends that no one else could see—were interested in her Corporal Handred.”
“Yes. But Kaylin could see them, and she didn’t think they were ghosts.” Mrs. Erickson’s smile deepened. “They were worried that Severn was somehow a servant to Azoria, but they didn’t say that at the time.”
Severn, as usual, said nothing.
“Pardon me for interrupting. Please continue.”
“I think Kaylin will have to tell this part of the story,” Mrs. Erickson replied, almost apologetically.
“It’s what eventually led us to Azoria An’Berranin,” Kaylin said. “Because the two Barrani we met weren’t dead; they were trapped, their bodies separate from the rest of them in paintings Azoria had created when she lived in the High Halls. The detritus of her life there had been preserved by the High Halls itself. But we believe she was capable of creating those odd pocket cells because she had tapped into the power that the High Halls—that any sentient building—uses to create and sustain themselves.”
“And Kaylin believed the children in your home were ghosts.”
Mrs. Erickson nodded.
“They were ghosts whose bodies died some ten to fifteen years after they did,” Kaylin added.
“Pardon?”
“Something else possessed those bodies. We’re not certain if it was Azoria, although that’s the most likely. Each of the four bodies eventually met their end through the justice system; they had, to a person, murdered their families. Before that, they’d been caught for breaking and entering, petty theft.”
“I see. Please, continue.”
This was the hardest part for Mrs. Erickson, but Kaylin thought it was possibly the most important. “Kaylin believed that I had magical potential.” She said this as her shoulders began to sink. “I’d been tested, as an older child. The results of that test were negative.”
“Why were you tested?”
She tensed but shook her head. “My parents—my mother—thought I might have talent.”
“For what reason?”
“I don’t know.” Her voice was very small now. “But I was told I didn’t, and I went home. Kaylin, many decades later, disagreed with the testing. I went to the Imperial College,” she added, as if that meant anything.
Evanton’s expression matched Kaylin’s for a brief moment.
“Kaylin’s a Hawk. The Halls of Law works with mages from the Imperial College. She approached a member of the college—one of the Dragon Court. I believe he is now the current Arkon. The Arkon agreed to reassess my possible abilities.”
“It is difficult to say no to the corporal when she very earnestly pursues a goal. I have tried, in my time. Very well. The Arkon chose to test you personally.”
“Yes.”
“And his conclusion?”
Mrs. Erickson once again fell silent. This time, when she looked to Kaylin, Kaylin could see the ghost of a young girl in her eyes. Afraid of being judged. Afraid of being useless or disappointing. It made Kaylin wonder if anyone could ever outgrow those feelings.
She once again took over. “The test wasn’t finished. It wasn’t really started. When Mrs. Erickson entered the room in which the tests would be done, she found new ghosts. They weren’t human ghosts. They weren’t ghosts of any race I’d recognize. They’d been trapped until they sensed Mrs. Erickson entering the room. And they possessed the Arkon.”
Evanton, being human—at least to start—didn’t have eyes that changed color; they did change shape as his brows rose.
“She didn’t, obviously, tell them to possess a Dragon. But...they could. I’m not sure what would have happened if not for Mrs. Erickson’s intervention; she could speak to them, they could hear her, and she could coax them out of Sanabalis. The Arkon wasn’t keen on letting Mrs. Erickson return home—because the ghosts she’d talked into abandoning Sanabalis were now following her.
“But the Dragon Court is aware of Helen; Bellusdeo lived here until very recently. They trusted Helen with Bellusdeo’s safety, and they didn’t think Mrs. Erickson was an intentional threat. Sanabalis was willing to have Mrs. Erickson live with me.”