“Kaylin is a Hawk. This is her investigation. I’ll be here to partner her because Hawks do not operate on their own unless their partner is incapacitated or dead, and her partner is not on the premises. She is not the mother of our people—you are. And you have already seen the cost of Azoria’s attempt to take the Lake. If the Avatar is uncertain, you cannot responsibly take the risk.” When the Consort failed to nod, she continued. “You are aware of the difficulties and injuries caused to Hallionne Orbaranne in the West. They were not predictable; she did not understand the avenue of attack. This may well be similar—and you are the largest target; it is your control of the Lake, the Lake’s gift to you, that she lacked. Or lacks.”

“It wasn’t hard,” Terrano said. “I’m aware of what we did, of how we worked our way through Alsanis and Orbaranne. I can’t see the same cracks here—but the High Halls are aware of what we did, and they’re looking. Look, I’m sorry that I almost caused your death, and I’m doing what I can here—with the Avatar—to make sure it doesn’t happen again. I mean, from anyone else.”

“You wish to hold the record, do you?” the Consort asked, one brow lifting—as did the corners of her lips. She was genuinely amused. “Very well. My preference, given the nature of the possible difficulty, is to remain—but I will concede.”

Almost before the last syllable was uttered, she vanished.

Kaylin poked her familiar. “Okay now?”

Hope smacked her face with his wing, and then adjusted it so it sat only across one eye. Wingless, the room was bright. Winged, it was dark. The darkness seemed to gather nearest the walls, but it looked far more natural than it had in Mrs. Erickson’s home.

“The room there was fixed and very small,” the Avatar said. Clearly whatever had prevented him from easily hearing thoughts was no longer interfering. “It would therefore be less obvious. Terrano, do not touch the paintings.”

Serralyn had a death grip on his left shoulder the moment the Avatar spoke.

There were paintings—or frames—on either side of the long hall. In the light, they appeared to be very similar in composition to the paintings in the studio portion of Azoria’s chambers. Through the wing of the familiar, Kaylin could see dim outlines. There were no ugly, livid flowers; none of the subjects had braided hair.

But she recognized two of them the moment her eyes touched them.

Amaldi and Darreno.

21

Do not touch the painting, Hope told her.

“They’re Amaldi and Darreno. Two of the so-called ghosts.”

Hope nodded.

“These are the ones you could see only with the aid of the familiar’s wing?” Teela asked.

Kaylin nodded.

“Should we attempt to unravel or destroy the painting?”