“You asked about a student who existed before the Towers rose?”

“I had no idea she was that old—she was the owner of a building that doesn’t seem to be completely in phase with the rest of the city. Which...is like the Academia.”

“Name?”

It was Starrante who answered, although the answer was a series of clicks and whistles.

Clearly, Larrantin understood the Wevaran tongue; his eyes darkened from the usual blue to a much, much deeper color. Arrogance and boredom drained from his features as he turned all of his attention to Kaylin.

“Why did you think it necessary to ask about this person?” This person. Not Azoria.

“Because her name is listed as owner of record for a house that no longer exists. It doesn’t exist in any current map in Records—and in the Records to which I have access, it hasn’t existed for at least a century. If not for the taxation office, I would never have stumbled across the name at all.”

He held up one hand. “You will now go back to the beginning and you will explain.”

For the second time in as many hours, Kaylin detailed the travails of Mrs. Erickson, Mrs. Erickson’s two flavors of ghosts, and the house she could only see through Hope’s wing.

“I fail to see the purpose of this investigation. The strangeness you have encountered has nothing to do with our former student.”

Kaylin, however, shook her head. “That’s not the way this works. And I’m less and less certain she has nothing to do with what happened to the indoor ghosts.”

“They are not trapped in the nonexistent building; were they, you would not have encountered them.”

“Well, that’s the thing,” Kaylin replied. “Fourteen doesn’t exist anymore. No one remembers it. But fourteen and a half didn’t exist prior to that century-old map, at least according to taxation Records. It exists now, and it existed eighty years ago, but eighty years is a long time for us; it’s just part of the street that’s always been there to people who live on that street.”

“You don’t believe it’s always existed,” Killian said.

“I know what I saw—there’s no way that that building became the other, much, much smaller house. And the house is small for the street—it looks slightly out of place. But if Azoria was somehow involved there might be a reason she chose to abandon the building she originally owned. If she was involved, it would be at least a century ago, which is when the children started to disappear. Which would imply that she wasn’t dead, as has been claimed.”

“I did not claim she was dead.”

“No, that wasn’t you. Given Androsse’s reaction—”

“Arbiter Androsse.” Larrantin’s eyes narrowed.