Page 63 of Cast in Atonement

Squawk.

“She can’t, can she?” Kaylin turned on her side and poked Hope. “Can you keep her safe?”

Hope failed to answer. She’d grown accustomed to the familiar; his squawks, while wordless, had tone. His silences had texture. “Is protecting one old lady something I have to make sacrifices for?”

The air around the familiar grew cold, as if the translucent form was now composed of ice. She could see mist in the air as the cold expanded.

You understand the danger, Hope said. She is like a tidal wave, an earthquake. Knowledge will not change the threat she poses.

“But she doesn’t! I swear she’s never hurt a freaking fly—she’d probably try to catch it and let it go outside her house!”

Yes. That is your conflict. But you know that she is a Necromancer. You saw it, when she commanded Azoria. She has that power, and it is bound and contained by a promise she made to a dead child. If those children were sent to watch her, to spy on her, they grew attached to her, and it is because they did that she never dreamed of becoming what she might become.

“That promise holds weight to her.”

Yes. But, Kaylin, promises can be broken in emergencies. Promises can be broken when the cost of keeping them seems, in the moment, too high. Think. There is a reason Azoria was interested in Mrs. Erickson. There is an Ancient who claims he is dead living or standing in Azoria’s figurative backyard.

There are ghosts who can possess Dragons—the Arkon, in fact. These would be at her control; they would obey her, should she choose to give them commands.

If you wished to keep Mrs. Erickson safe, agreeing to accompany her to her home with the Keeper in attendance was not the wisest option. But if you wish to keep the rest of the world safe—as the Keeper does—it might be necessary.

“Starrante didn’t mention Necromantic activity in the few stories he found credible.”

No. And you have gone out of your way to hide what you believe.

“I have no proof.”

Mrs. Erickson understands that the abilities Jamal sealed by her promise are dangerous enough that she, too, has failed to mention them. Terrano, you will note, edited his account slightly to leave out the one salient point. I believe the cohort is fond of Mrs. Erickson; they know you are.

Kaylin was now cold, but that was purely physical. She wrapped herself more tightly in her blankets before she continued. “Could she somehow use that ability—the ability to command the dead, rather than communicate with them—to somehow free Bellusdeo’s sisters?”

Hope was silent for long enough, she thought he wouldn’t answer. Perhaps, but the question you must ask yourself is: Will removing the dead injure—or kill—Bellusdeo?

“She’s alive.”

She is. But she is alive because of your intervention. What you did defied common sense; it is accepted because you are Chosen. Perhaps Bellusdeo is whole because you bound the dead—dead you could not see yourself—to her. If you unbind the dead, will her name survive?

11

Bellusdeo arrived punctually; Kaylin was just finishing breakfast. Mrs. Erickson had cooked it—she liked cooking, and Helen was perfectly happy to see the kitchen used. She looked better this morning, less exhausted and fragile.

“The ghosts were quiet last night?”

Mrs. Erickson smiled. “I wouldn’t say quiet is the right word, but they were far less anxious, far less upset, than they were a few nights ago.” She looked up as Bellusdeo entered the dining room; the Dragon was wearing actual clothing, which meant she’d more or less walked.

Maggaron had accompanied her. Before she’d moved out, he spent much of his time in the larger-than-human-size rooms Helen had created for his use; since she’d moved out, he lived in the Tower, although Bellusdeo said he spent much more of his time with his people, the Norranir. His height and build marked him clearly as other, and people were generally apprehensive when confronted with the differences between their builds and his; had he been a dwarf, it wouldn’t have caused issues.

But the phrase gentle giant suited Maggaron perfectly. Because the Norranir had moved into the fiefs, to be near the border of Ravellon, people in the rest of the city just hadn’t gotten a chance to get accustomed to Norranir in the city streets.

“I won’t be accompanying you to the Halls of Law,” Bellusdeo said. “But I thought I could visit Mrs. Erickson while you were working. It was her suggestion,” she added, sounding a tiny bit defensive. “And Maggaron needs a break from Karriamis and Emmerian.”

Maggaron, as usual, was silent, although he did smile and nod in Kaylin’s direction.

Hope was once again on Kaylin’s shoulder as she left home.

The workday had only one interruption. Marcus called her to his desk, which was never a good sign; his eyes were dark orange, which emphasized the lack of great distress. But when he spoke, he spoke first in choice Leontine, adding a couple of scratches to the latest attempt at a new desk.

“You’ve been sent a message,” he said.

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