Jamal didn’t seem to notice, but that made sense: this sounded natural to him. Although he had observed other people, they didn’t speak to him; they couldn’t see him. Helen was the edge case—but Helen’s acknowledgment made clear that she respected Mrs. Erickson’s ability.

“Come in. If you are not satisfied by the end of the tour, you may offer Mrs. Erickson your advice. I am not a prison. I hope, in time, to be a friend.”

Jamal hesitantly slid one foot across the threshold. When nothing happened, he slid the other across it. Helen then led them away from the door before it closed—quietly—at their backs.

The tour that Helen gave Mrs. Erickson and Jamal was unlike the tour that Kaylin had received—but nothing was trying to kill them at the moment, and there were no pressing emergencies. Mrs. Erickson inspected the kitchen with delight, not judgment; she asked questions about storage, about cupboards, about the operation of the stove—and received answers that were a bit too technical for Kaylin’s taste. They included a history of Imperial stoves.

They entered the dining room, and Helen apologetically explained that the dining room tended to be where the cohort gathered, and the dimension of the table tended to change to accommodate the number of guests. The parlor, she explained, was similar. The cohort didn’t use it, but on occasion Kaylin had Imperial guests, and when she did, Helen arranged a sitting room worthy of those visitors. Kaylin disliked the “worthy” part, because she saw nothing wrong with the parlor into which Mrs. Erickson entered.

While they walked, Helen explained—largely for Jamal’s benefit—the defenses erected against intruders, be they mortal, Immortal, or otherwise. This impressed Jamal, who asked Mrs. Erickson about Dragons.

“Yes, even against Dragons, should they decide to enter without permission. I believe it’s the reason Kaylin felt Imelda would be safest here.”

“She thinks the Dragons will try to hurt her?” He was skeptical. Mrs. Erickson had clearly chosen not to share the events of the day that might prompt that dire interest.

“You’re quite aware that Imelda has talents that other people don’t. Those talents, used in the wrong place or the wrong way, could be deadly to the living, and hell for the dead. But you know this; you know what Azoria wanted.”

“What about Barrani?”

“She will be absolutely safe from Barrani, even the ones who live here should they lose their tempers. I do not allow my guests or my tenants to harm each other.”

“What about the spiders?”

“I believe you mean the Wevaran, and yes, I can prevent Wevaran from entering my home. I admit I’ve never had one try, but I understand how their portals work.”

“Azoria?”