“Oh, probably,” a new—and familiar—voice said. Terrano was, if not visible, in the chancellor’s office. “We weren’t a threat to the stability of the world, just Barrani high society. And they deserve the enmity.”

“Sedarias wanted to go to the green,” Kaylin pointed out.

Terrano slowly became visible. Given his expression, it wasn’t entirely his choice. “Mellarionne was so messed up, it wouldn’t have mattered if she’d gone home to make her opinion known. Most of the line would have probably been delighted.”

Killian ignored this. “Alsanis contained the children until they could control their impulses and their power. Or most of their impulses,” Killian said.

“She opened the door for us,” Terrano replied, although in theory Killian was speaking to Kaylin.

“Yeah, and some days it doesn’t seem like it was a great idea.”

Terrano rolled his eyes. “He’s trying to point out the dangers that exist.”

“You can’t argue that you weren’t of this world, though.”

“Actually,” Killian said, eyeing Terrano, “I believe I could make that argument, academically speaking. I will refrain from doing so. You did what you did because you value An’Teela so highly, and you had come to understand both her grief and her self-loathing. I will not argue that you did the wrong thing.

“But spaces such as the spaces in which the Academia were confined are not subject to the same rules that govern your existence.”

“But the Academia is free now.”

Killian nodded. “From a purely selfish perspective, I am grateful for your efforts; I am certain the chancellor shares my sentiment.”

“The chancellor,” the chancellor said, in full Draconic rumble, “is wondering how much safer things would have been if the corporal had somehow remained in the outlands—an exchange, of sorts.”

Terrano grinned.

Kaylin didn’t. To her surprise, neither did Serralyn. She glared at Terrano instead.

“What? I didn’t say it.” He grimaced; clearly other members of the cohort had opinions, and were sharing. “Fine. There’s one thing here that catches my attention.”

“And that?”

“You said the two phased mortals recognized the High Halls as they are today.”

Kaylin nodded.

“And they didn’t see any marked difference between the now and the very long centuries of then.”

She nodded again, this time more slowly.

“Don’t you think it odd that they’re here now, when the High Halls are finally what they once were?”

The silence that greeted the question was full of thought, or at least Kaylin’s part of it.

Everyone’s thoughts, Severn then said. This didn’t occur to you?

I was kind of thinking about what it might be like to be trapped for centuries in noncorporeal form, she snapped back, pride pricked.