Since his escape had caused a lot of damage, Kaylin wasn’t certain this was a good thing. But if he hadn’t, the cohort wouldn’t be here, and that would, in the end, be a loss. “Fine. I’ll take Teela. I don’t want Terrano to tag along.”

Terrano’s smile was bright and almost childlike. “Well, sucks to be you.”

“Terrano,” Sedarias snapped.

“You can’t stop her from being Kaylin, and she’s mortal. What makes you think you can stop me?”

“I can beg Helen for a favor.”

“Not that one.” He grinned. “I wouldn’t mind if Helen tried to keep me trapped here; it would be a bit of a challenge. Assuming she wouldn’t just kill me.”

“I would not,” Helen’s disembodied voice said. “Nor would Sedarias truly wish for your death.”

“Could I perhaps wish for his silence?”

Terrano laughed.

Serralyn said, “I’d vote for that, if it were possible.”

“Helen, they’re ganging up on me.” Terrano’s eyes were green.

Helen materialized physically; Kaylin suspected it was because she wanted the gentle smile on her face to be seen.

Kaylin spent the morning at a busier-than-usual front desk. Six of the reports were about ghosts. There were often reports about hauntings of various kinds, but perhaps because of her recent experiences, she was tempted to take them seriously. There were another two reports of vampire sightings, and she made a mental note to check for bodies in the morgue; sometimes people came up with unusual explanations for deaths they’d heard about in the rumor mill.

Her facial muscles were cramped by the time Mrs. Erickson made her appearance; it was hard to treat every complaint with respect when the people who were making those complaints were hostile. Politely accepting overt hostility had never been one of Kaylin’s core social strengths, and it was theoretically a requirement of this desk.

Her smile, however, was genuine when Mrs. Erickson—basket over arm—came into view. The old woman took a seat, as she did when there were people who had arrived before her. Her clothing today was more staid, more stiff, and she actually wore bits of jewelry; if Kaylin had wondered if Mrs. Erickson remembered that they were going to the palace, she had her answer.

Mrs. Erickson was vastly more patient with the passage of time than Kaylin—and neither had a patch on angry, busy Dragons. But there was no one else that Kaylin could wave over; most Hawks avoided front desk duty as if it were contagious. And deadly.

She was therefore in a bit of a rush when she was finally finished. She barely looked at the basket Mrs. Erickson was carrying. But everything smelled good, and after the day she’d had she deserved a bit of a treat.