“They were altered by the regalia, as you well know. Look, I’m not certain that what she’s built here has much to do with having sentences instead of single words. But I think she felt Androsse and his people had vastly more power because of the genesis of their life force. I think you guys prove that’s not the case—you practically existed without your names; there was a very, very tenuous link to them.

“Still, I think Androsse imparted the usual arrogant better-than-you-pathetic-descendants garbage, and she bought it. I’m not saying it’s about power, exactly—but the Ancestors were definitely more flexible. They could do things Barrani can’t normally do.

“I think Starrante’s stories of the birth and coming-of-age of his own kin—and the Wevaran do have words, but to be honest, I have no idea how many—possibly suggested a different avenue to gaining them. Her first attempt on the Lake may have been her attempt to turn the Lake into the hunting ground of the immature Wevaran.

“And all of this is just guesswork.”

“It’s good guesswork,” Teela replied, meaning she agreed with it.

“Let me scout ahead,” Terrano said, as Teela reached the doorframe. When Teela glanced over her shoulder, he added, “You know how hard it is to trap or cage me. I’m not sure what we’re going to find—it may be a boring, normal house.”

“Definitely not normal,” Kaylin told him. “And I could use a bit of boring.”

Terrano passed through the frame. Kaylin was half expecting the door to slam shut on his back, but it didn’t. Teela was in the way.

The door didn’t hit her—she was prepared for that; it bounced off an invisible barrier. The doorknob left a small indent in the wall.

Hope squawked. Teela gestured. Light formed in a ball in the Barrani Hawk’s hand; she tightened her fingers around it and then pitched it through the door’s frame. Light instantly flooded the hall.

“Give us a little warning!” Terrano shouted.

The lower lighting in Mrs. Erickson’s hall gave way to much harsher, brighter light. In it, Kaylin could see very Barrani architecture, which confirmed her opinion that Mrs. Erickson’s family home had always been a servant’s home.

Azoria’s front foyer was built of stone and marble; the ceilings couldn’t be seen from the doorway, although a staircase, winding its way toward the heights, was visible. It reminded Kaylin a bit of the West March; the stairs twined around a central pillar. The pillar was of stone, but it was a darker shade than the pale stone used in the High Halls.

If Kaylin had reached this foyer in either the very wealthy parts of town or the High Halls, she wouldn’t have blinked twice—but this building occupied no physical space in what she generally called reality.

“Terrano?”