“Probably a waste of time,” he said; he clearly wanted to go through the door almost no one else could see. The fact that he hadn’t done so meant Sedarias did not want him to go through said door.

He dragged his feet away from the painting, complaining bitterly.

Mandoran grimaced. “I’ll go with him. I’m not certain he won’t get himself into trouble if he’s left on his own.” He grinned at Kaylin. “Serralyn’s suggestion.”

Kaylin then turned her full attention to the painting. Hope, rigid on her shoulder, was staring at it as well. He squawked. Kaylin reflexively covered the ear closest to his mouth.

“Don’t worry about Terrano,” Teela told her. “He knows this entire building could be trapped, and he knows how to recognize and evade traps most of us will never see.”

“I wasn’t. I don’t have a sense that Azoria is in this picture—but I have a very strong sense that this is not a door we should open. Not yet.”

Hope crooned.

“When?”

Kaylin shrugged, uneasy now. “Let’s go upstairs. I want to find Jamal.”

“You expect him to be here?”

“I think he must be. The house opened up before we opened the door—it’s possible the kids were drawn here. Or worse.” She hesitated. “The ghosts that are trapped here serve a designated purpose.”

“And the children didn’t?”

Kaylin glanced uneasily at Mrs. Erickson. She didn’t reply.

The stairs were solid; if the building had been unoccupied for a century, age hadn’t troubled any of it. It was the silence that made it feel creepy. Yes, she had once lived alone—but she’d lived in an apartment building, and the sounds of other tenants were always present, sometimes annoyingly so. Even when the neighbors fell asleep, the sounds of the street beneath her shutters reminded her that there were other people in the world. And angry dogs.

Here, only the sounds they made as they climbed were present; when they reached the top of the stairs, which then opened up into a wide platform, the only thing that broke the silence was the sound of breathing.

Beyond the landing an open gallery followed the shape of the foyer, hemmed in by delicate railing. On the left part of the oval gallery was a hall with less impressive ceilings than the great hall on the first floor.

Perhaps because she was listening so uncomfortably, when she heard sounds in the distance, she turned instantly. Severn was already on the move.

“Teela?”

Teela nodded. “Mrs. Erickson?”

“That sounds like Jamal,” the older woman said. Kaylin heard nothing that sounded like Jamal, but didn’t doubt that Mrs. Erickson could. She let Mrs. Erickson take the lead, in part because she didn’t think the older woman could be stopped, short of physical restraint.