The odd words in Kaylin’s hand quivered in place, as if straining to move toward whatever it was they could see in the pale, luminous fog. They didn’t leave Kaylin’s hands. It occurred to her that they couldn’t; that somehow, she contained them. It was probably the marks; they were glowing, their color now similar to the color of the fog.

“I think I have to carry them there,” Kaylin told her home.

“I think so, too. You will be safe should you choose to enter the room; if they are willing to leave you—if they are capable of it—it will be there. I would suggest you leave as quickly as possible, if that proves to be the case; I am uncertain what the room itself will become, and it may be inhospitable.”

Kaylin nodded. “Can Mrs. Erickson come?”

Helen’s hesitance was an answer.

“Stay on the hall side of the door,” she told Mrs. Erickson. “You can speak to them from there—but Helen’s concerned that you might be injured.”

“And she isn’t concerned about you?” The question was asked with no edge or ego; Mrs. Erickson was genuinely curious.

“Not in the same way. I have special marks that offer some protection.”

“The marks of the Chosen,” Mrs. Erickson agreed.

Everyone turned to look at her, and she reddened slightly. “Amaldi mentioned them. I’m sorry for interrupting you.”

“Everyone does. I’m used to it. You can’t expect a lack of interruption if you live with Terrano.”

“Hey!”

Kaylin grinned and then turned once again to the open door. She couldn’t see anything as solid as floor on the other side of the doorjamb, but she’d run through the outlands without any visible ground beneath her feet. She was worried, but it was a nebulous worry; she had brought...something into her home that could possess a Dragon. Something that had somehow been trapped or attached to an altar in a hidden room in the bowels of the Imperial Palace.

“Yes. They responded to Mrs. Erickson. If she has spent her life quietly, she has great power.”

“She doesn’t know how to use it,” Sanabalis said.

“It is not something that is easily taught by those who do not have a similar power,” Helen replied. “It is not magic as the Arcanum understands it; nor is it magic as the Imperial College does. But I would argue that she has used that power, unbeknownst to her, since she first opened her eyes. Whatever these are—ghosts or spirits as she calls them—they could see her, and she could see them. They understand her when she makes the effort to speak. No one present can do the same.

“But Kaylin is very fond of her, and I understand why. She intends no harm.”