It’s what they’d said the first time, but Kaylin understood now. “You didn’t believe that.”

She shook her head. It was Darreno who said, “What choice did we have? Death immediately or death later. That was it. And death later offered hope that we might survive. We pretended to believe her because it made no difference to our choices. Yes, she painted us. She wasn’t happy with her first attempt—of me—but seemed satisfied with the second attempt. She patted me on the head and praised me for my patience.

“She was less happy with Amaldi’s sittings.” His expression darkened. “Show her,” he told his sole friend. He looked at her arm, covered as Kaylin’s were covered.

Amaldi shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. She eventually got the painting she wanted.” She exhaled. “Why is it important?”

“We think you were...put into the space she created, as if the paintings themselves were a pocket space in which the subjects could be entrapped.”

Darreno said, “This isn’t about our freedom, is it?” The question was bitter. Of course it was.

Kaylin shook her head. “Not just yours, no.”

The two exchanged another look; it was longer. Amaldi broke the ensuing silence. “What do you want us to do?”

“We don’t know what the paintings were meant to achieve when they weren’t of Barrani. But there’s a painting hanging in Mrs. Erickson’s house. She’s not—she’s not trapped the way you are, and she’s mortal. The painting itself might be irrelevant in a decade or less.”

“You’re worried about Mrs. Erickson,” Amaldi said, voice soft.

Kaylin spoke. “I’m worried about Mrs. Erickson, but I’m also worried about the children who are trapped in the house—they’re actual ghosts, unlike the two of you. They’ve been there since the house was built. They can’t leave. Mrs. Erickson keeps them company; she looks out for them as she can.

“But Jamal knows—they all know—that she won’t live forever. She’s worried about them. I think the house is becoming too much to handle on her own, but she won’t leave until she’s carried out, because those children are still trapped there. I would like her to leave—I want to remove that damn painting and burn it—but I understand why she won’t.”

Amaldi tensed. Darreno, Kaylin realized, had been tense since they’d entered the High Halls.

“Why have you never entered her house?”

It was Amaldi who said, “Because it was hers. It was Azoria’s.”

I want to ask them a different question, Severn said.

Go ahead. What do you want me to ask?

Ask them about my weapon. They recognized it—that was the start of this.

What, now?