“They often argued; we avoided her—when we could—after her father visited. But the last time we woke, she wasn’t there. We have been awake since then, but we have had more freedom, and far less visibility. It wasn’t until Mrs. Erickson that we found anyone who could see us at all. We liked her. We like her now.” Darreno rose from the table. “You wish us to visit the paintings in the gallery because you want to know what the paintings might mean to mortals.”

Kaylin nodded. “But it’s not without risk. We know that the Barrani were dead in any way that mattered. We don’t know what will happen to you and Amaldi if we break the enchantments—I didn’t want to risk it without your permission.”

“Could you have broken those enchantments without our presence?”

Kaylin hesitated. “You know Mrs. Erickson lives with ghosts—with actual ghosts—right?”

They nodded.

“I think they may have started the way you started—but Azoria didn’t have the power of the sleeping High Halls to draw on. I think she may have attempted to draw on the power of the distant green—but whatever she used, it wasn’t enough. She kidnapped four children. They died. They died, but their bodies didn’t.

“Those bodies went on to search for something—they each got caught for breaking and entering—and eventually, to slaughter their immediate families, or at least the families they were living with at the time. I don’t want that to happen again—and if we broke the enchantment and you weren’t there to occupy your own bodies, I’m not sure what would.

“But we really don’t know what she did. We don’t know if, somehow, when your bodies are released they immediately experience all of the time they haven’t until now. You might return to your bodies and die instantly by aging.”

23

Darreno nodded, as if this was not a surprise. To Amaldi he said, “They can’t tell with the Barrani. One century or ten, the Barrani trapped wouldn’t age. We’re the only mortals they have.”

Kaylin nodded. “If we knew what would happen, we’d tell you. But right now, you’re alive.”

“Is that what you’d call it?” Amaldi surprised Kaylin; her voice was soft, low, a hint of anger beneath the surface of the words. Amaldi had always been the more social of the two. “Do you know what I miss?” It was clearly a rhetorical question. “I miss being able to hug people. I miss being able to help Mrs. Erickson with her buckets, to offer her an arm before she stumbles.