“I think it’s important that we keep an eye on them now,” Kaylin replied. She looked at her arms; the marks had begun to glow a steady gold. “I’ll go find them if you want to head into the dining room with everyone else. I think Terrano has opened the window there.”

Terrano had not only opened the window, but was leaning out of the frame. He was conversing with Bakkon. In clicks and gestures. Kaylin blinked. He had sprouted an extra pair of arms in the interim, and was waving them gracefully and somewhat precisely.

Mrs. Erickson blinked and rubbed her eyes as she looked at Terrano’s back. “Well,” she said, voice shaky, “Serralyn did warn me that Terrano was highly unusual. Does he do this all the time?”

“Only when it’s necessary.” Kaylin glanced at Serralyn’s eyes; they were very disturbing. Mrs. Erickson, however, hadn’t noticed them.

Serralyn nodded. She joined Terrano by the window, but didn’t sprout arms or otherwise attempt to speak to the Wevaran in his native tongue. Nor did she speak Barrani; it was as if she was now afraid of what might be listening. The natural Wevaran tongue was less easily translated—although Azoria might have learned it, if anyone else could. Barrani memory was perfect, but recall required a level of concentration; if Azoria listened from somewhere, her attention would be on their discussion.

“Don’t worry,” Serralyn said. “The giant spider won’t hurt anyone.”

Kaylin blinked in surprise, but nodded. She then turned and said, “I’m sorry, I got distracted. I’ll go get the kids.” She turned on her heel.

Severn said, “I’ll go with you.”

She started to answer but forced her mouth to close. You can’t see them.

No. But something changed when Bakkon attempted to test the waters. I’m not sure what Terrano saw or sensed, but the house has changed.

The marks on Kaylin’s arms had ratcheted up in brilliance, but they remained gold. I’m worried about the children, she told him. They wouldn’t enter the room that contains the painting—but it wasn’t just opposition; they became almost catatonic with terror.

Severn nodded as Kaylin reached the room in which Jamal—according to Mrs. Erickson—went to sulk and vent his displeasure.

If something has changed in this house—if the door suddenly slammed shut at someone else’s will—it might affect the children.

How? The question was asked in Severn’s usual pragmatic tone; it held no ridicule or disbelief.

I don’t know. But they were trapped in this house—the figurative door has always existed for them. I don’t think they were killed in this house—but I could be totally wrong. They were lucky, in a fashion: Mrs. Erickson could always see them.

Severn nodded. According to the Arkon—the new Arkon, he added to lessen possible misinterpretation, that is her power.