Page 81 of Cast in Atonement

“She doesn’t know.”

“Ah. That’s where you are wrong, Imelda. She does know.”

Kaylin agreed with Mrs. Erickson. She had no idea what Helen was talking about. But she didn’t make that clear; she watched Mrs. Erickson.

Mrs. Erickson turned to Kaylin. Her breathing was too shallow and her hands were white around the teacup. Had it not been created by Helen, it would have cracked.

“What do you know?” Mrs. Erickson whispered.

Kaylin, not one of nature’s liars, would have frozen completely had Mrs. Erickson not looked so defeated, so afraid. She exhaled.

“When we faced Azoria, Jamal released you from a promise. It was a one-time release. Only when you had his permission did you do what Necromancers can do: you commanded Azoria. You commanded the dead.”

Mrs. Erickson didn’t move; she didn’t even nod.

“If you’d never made that promise to Jamal, you could command the dead at any time you wanted.”

This time, the old woman did nod.

Was it more than that? Nothing that Kaylin had said seemed remotely terrifying. “If you hadn’t had that ability, it’s likely none of us would have survived. I don’t fear it. I don’t resent it. I’m grateful for it.”

Silence settled around Kaylin as these thoughts took root. “You could have controlled the dead that possessed Sanabalis. You could have told them what to do while they occupied his body.”

“Yes.”

“You can’t tell ghosts—I mean, like Jamal—to possess someone.”

“I don’t think so. I’ve never tried.”

“Mrs. Erickson—Imelda—what did you try? And when?” Jamal had to know about that power somehow. If Jamal knew, he had either been subject to it, or he had witnessed it, which meant it had to have occurred in Mrs. Erickson’s home.

Mrs. Erickson’s shoulders curved, bringing her face closer to her hands and the cup she now clung to as if it were an anchor.

“When I was a child, I had a pet rabbit. Terrible little beast; she chewed open my pillow, destroyed a third of my rug, left scratch marks across my floor, and couldn’t be properly litter trained. I didn’t have many friends, but I didn’t miss them; I had Jamal, Katie, Esme, and Callis. But I could touch the rabbit, I could hold the rabbit; the rabbit was warm. And at that age, Jamal and his friends seemed so much older than I was.

“Rabbits don’t live a long time. Tilly died. I woke up one morning, and she didn’t. Jamal told me she was dead, but I think I knew. I knew she wasn’t breathing. She’d become a lot quieter in the prior half a year. I wanted her to wake up. I don’t think I understood what death meant. Jamal tried to explain it, but he wasn’t always the most patient.

“We argued. Esme tried to stop him—or us—but I was young and stubborn.”

“You were how old? Five? Six? If Jamal seemed almost adult to you, you couldn’t have been much older.”

“When did you understand what death meant?” Mrs. Erickson’s question was unexpected.

Kaylin froze. Throat thicker, she said, “Severn explained it to me. I didn’t understand it, but I learned. Death meant absence. It meant forever absence.”

“How old were you?”

“Five.” Kaylin shook her head. “It was a long time ago. I was five. You were a child. No one could blame you for not knowing.” She didn’t want to talk about her mother here. Or her childhood.

“I was angry with Jamal. I was angry with the world, I think—it’s hard to remember it now, I’m so much farther from childhood than you are.”

Kaylin nodded. She disliked being reminded of her age, because it usually came with judgment or dismissal; she was too young, she was too naive, she was too ignorant. Mrs. Erickson wasn’t doing any of those things.

“But of course I had to prove him wrong. I knew I could win the argument.” She closed her eyes. “I woke Tilly up.”

Kaylin could have misunderstood; she didn’t. Mrs. Erickson was old and gentle, but she wasn’t a fool.

“Tilly moved. Tilly hopped. But her body was cold and she didn’t breathe. I knew something was wrong with her—and I knew, in future, I should never try to win arguments with Jamal.” This brought a brief, nostalgic smile to her lips and the corners of her eyes. Kaylin had no doubt that if Jamal had remained, it was to Jamal she would have retreated after the disaster at Azoria’s old place.

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