“I do not think she could have conceived of being like you,” was the more severe reply. “I am frankly constantly surprised—and confounded—by you. She was Barrani, at heart, and you...are Terrano.”

“Do you think unraveling the doors will destroy the contents of the room?”

“I think that was part of the intent, yes. Serralyn’s intervention, however, alerted me to the possibility, and I believe I have preserved the contents.” He did not sound pleased.

“If you were unaware, could the doors have damaged you?” Kaylin now viscerally understood why the Avatar wanted the Consort well away from these rooms.

The Avatar didn’t answer.

It was Terrano who spoke. “Define damage. If the High Halls was unaware of the minute perturbations contained in the creation of the doors, those spells were nonetheless laid against elements of the Halls themselves. I think, were he not prepared, it would have been bad.”

“And you?”

Terrano shrugged, a cheeky grin tugging his lips up. “I’m always prepared.”

Serralyn snorted. “Is it safe now?” she asked the Avatar.

“It is safe to enter,” the Avatar replied. “But I now see odd strands that are rooted far too deeply. I intended to leave you to your investigation—but I will not do so if the Consort is to remain with you.”

“Meaning we can’t investigate?”

“Meaning,” Terrano said, “that he’s not leaving if she isn’t.”

That seemed perfectly fair to Kaylin. One glance at the Consort’s profile made clear that the investigation would proceed with two extra people. Given that one of them was the High Halls equivalent of Helen, this was fine. She started to walk down the hall as the doors—untouched by any obvious hands—rolled open.

Whatever Azoria An’Berranin had been in life, or in the life she’d lived in the High Halls, she wasn’t given to ostentation. Perhaps her father had been. “Did he also occupy these rooms?” she asked.

The Avatar could follow her thoughts well enough not to demand more context. “Yes. But he was an austere man; ostentation of the kind you imagine requires expenditures of power, and he was not a man given to sharing power.”

“He was Barrani,” Kaylin said, shrugging.

“Power means many things to many people; only those who are concerned with status spend that power in an attempt to imply wealth and influence. He was less concerned with appearance than security, but he did have a hall in which he entertained guests of relevance or value. They were not, however, her rooms; her mother saw to them, when she lived. Her younger sister continued that work; Azoria had very little interest in either hospitality or the comfort of visitors. Where it was necessary she could attend to those things, but she seldom felt it necessary.”

“And her younger sister saw the need for it.”