To Kaylin, they looked like any other part of the High Halls: towering ceilings with their impressive stained glass at heights that would make them impossible to clean. There were the usual stone alcoves, and each contained either a statue or a small tree of some kind; one contained flowers that seemed to have spilled out of their now-invisible planter to trail across the floors. Oh, no, they were vines of some kind that had flowers attached.

Since the flowers were not a livid green that hurt the eyes, Kaylin assumed they were safe, but as this was Barrani space she took care to avoid touching anything but the floor.

“Serralyn can travel quickly,” the Avatar remarked.

“She can—but she hates to do it; she says it makes her nauseous,” Terrano replied. “She’s worried enough that nausea seems a reasonable risk.”

“She does not have Lord Kaylin’s sensitivity to portals.”

“No—only Kaylin’s that lucky.”

“Good. It will save us time.”

Serralyn did look a little green to Kaylin’s eye when she appeared in the middle of the hall. Terrano immediately ran to her, although Kaylin noted he couldn’t be bothered to even mimic walking; his feet didn’t touch the floor. He slid an arm around her shoulder, and she leaned into his chest, head bowed for three long breaths.

“I don’t know how you can stand this,” she murmured, the acoustics of this magnificent hall magnifying her softly spoken words. “It really makes me feel Kaylin’s portal pain.”

“It doesn’t make me feel sick.” His tone conveyed worry, but also comfort.

She nodded and looked up, pulling away from Terrano to offer the Consort a perfect bow. The Consort bid her rise when it became apparent that she intended to hold that bow until that permission was given.

“I am sorry that we must meet again under such difficult circumstances. But I am very curious about your experience with the Academia, and I would enjoy your company if you chose to visit when things were less dire.”

Serralyn’s eyes were a warring mix of blue and green; the Consort’s immediate words brightened them, but the situation dampened any surprise or joy.

“Terrano said you would travel from the Academia.”

Serralyn glanced at Terrano. “Yes. I did. He really isn’t supposed to do that.”

That referred to the public acknowledgment of the fact that Serralyn and he were in communication, which strongly implied that they were namebound. At home, within Helen’s perimeter, it didn’t matter; everyone living there already knew. But in the High Halls, it would—especially as Sedarias grew more active.

“We are aware that the circumstances of your captivity forced you all to become closer than is the norm for our kin,” the Consort replied. “And yes, I agree. He should be far, far more careful.”