“Yes. As most will who are interested in portraiture.”

“How many of them were Barrani?”

“That is a very odd question,” the Avatar replied.

“It’s the High Halls,” Kaylin said. “And Barrani aren’t generally interested in other races.”

“Azoria was unusual, as you are now aware. Is the portraiture relevant?”

Serralyn frowned. “This room, this door—it’s interfering with your ability to easily read thoughts. I am making no effort to hide or obscure mine because I’m not as good with words as many of my friends, and I’d rather you just read them; it would make things a lot easier.”

The Avatar’s expression shifted as he studied the door. “I apologize, Lord Serralyn. It is seldom that the Barrani invite such inspection. I initially assumed you were like much of the rest of your kin; I have been attempting to listen to what you are not masking and...were you not attempting clarity of thought and communication, I would, again, assume you were like An’Teela. It is disturbing. I would ask you all—including Terrano—to stand far back from this door. Lady,” he added, with more gravity, “especially you.”

“Why?” Terrano predictably demanded.

“Because the reach of those vines is long. Do not,” he added more severely, “worry for me. My Avatar is present, and if it is destroyed, it is equivalent to the loss you might suffer breaking a fingernail. At most.”

Terrano was clearly put out—enough so that Serralyn and Teela had to physically grab him by the arms and escort him down the hall in the wake of the Consort, who made no argument at all. Kaylin followed behind, and when they reached a wall, they stopped and turned.

The Avatar was standing in front of the doors of this unearthed room, unmoving. He might have been made of stone. Kaylin felt her arms begin to tingle, and grimaced.

“Magic allergies?” Serralyn asked.

She nodded.

“You don’t normally have that reaction to older magic.”

“Older?”

“Well, words and the bindings of words and the things the Ancients created.”

“She may have been old for a Barrani, but she wasn’t an Ancient. I think I’ll be fine.”

“It’s getting worse, though.”

“It was. But I don’t think this is in response to the Avatar’s work. I think it’s something she did after the design of the doors was set.”

Teela cursed softly, which surprised everyone, including the Consort. Hope, sitting up on Kaylin’s shoulder, plastered a wing against her face. Through it, she could see the doors—or what appeared to be doors when seen through normal eyes.