Page 2 of Cast in Atonement

Both Terrano and Mandoran were blue-eyed, which was natural given the presence of the new Arkon. Kaylin’s eyes would have probably been a different color as well, if human eyes shifted the way most other races’ did. She exhaled and took the chair to Sanabalis’s right.

His eyes had lost the red flecks, but not the rest of the orange; she knew because he was staring in her direction. He hadn’t come here to see Mrs. Erickson. He’d come to grill Kaylin about something.

She really wanted to skip breakfast and head to the Halls of Law early. Helen, however, did not approve of skipping breakfast, and Kaylin didn’t need a lecture about the importance of the morning meal while a member of the Dragon Court was in attendance. She therefore had no easy escape route.

Mrs. Erickson came into the dining room, still wearing the apron she wore when she worked in the kitchen. She was carrying a large tray. Mandoran rose instantly to retrieve said tray. Mrs. Erickson beamed at him; she then removed the apron and hung it over the back of her chair. Helen caused it to vanish.

Mandoran set the tray where Helen indicated it should go—which was not on the table itself. It was on a small side table Helen had materialized for just that purpose. Helen then held Mrs. Erickson’s chair out, and Mrs. Erickson sat. Mandoran returned to his own chair, his eyes less dark a blue.

Mrs. Erickson was a hard person to fear or dislike, as both Mandoran and Terrano proved. Annarion liked her. Sedarias liked her. The rest of the cohort largely kept to themselves, but over the past two weeks—the entirety of Mrs. Erickson’s tenancy—Allaron had joined her in the kitchen as well.

The kitchen was Mrs. Erickson’s happy place. She had always baked for the Hawks at the public desk in the Halls of Law, and she’d expanded that baking almost the minute she’d moved in. She liked to feed people.

Her former housemates, being ghosts, couldn’t eat. Her current housemates could. And Mrs. Erickson was, in Kaylin’s admittedly pedestrian opinion, an excellent baker. Today’s breakfast, while not sweet, showcased that baking: pastry that contained breakfast-oriented meats and vegetables. Helen chose to serve.

Clearly this had been discussed before Mrs. Erickson entered the dining room, because Mrs. Erickson didn’t jump up from her seat in a rush to be helpful. She looked like she wanted to, though.

Breakfast was not exactly a friendly, relaxed affair.

Kaylin ate quickly—she always did. Helen hated it when she talked with her mouth full, and arguments about what constituted full had never worked out in Kaylin’s favor. As Sanabalis was two days early and most of his attention was on Kaylin, she wanted a mostly empty mouth.

Hope squawked.

Sanabalis exhaled a small stream of smoke. “My apologies for dropping in with little notice. Have you perhaps seen Lord Emmerian in the past week?”

Not the question Kaylin had been expecting. Given the presence of Mrs. Erickson’s other ghosts, most of Sanabalis’s concerns involved the dead. Emmerian wasn’t dead, to Kaylin’s knowledge; he wasn’t close.

She blinked. “No, I haven’t. Helen?”

“He has not visited in the past week, no.”

“Why are you asking?”

Sanabalis exhaled more smoke, but notably no fire given the state of the food on his plate. “He has removed himself to Lord Bellusdeo’s Tower, which was expected. He has failed to appear at the regular meeting of the Dragon Court, which was not. Lannagaros has attended all relevant meetings, and his duties to the Academia make him somewhat testy when present.” A brief glimmer of a smile touched the new Arkon’s face. “It does keep the meetings somewhat shorter.”

“Can you not communicate with Emmerian while he’s in the Tower?”

“Towers, very much like Helen, dislike the mirror network; they all feel it presents a security risk they are unwilling to take. Given the subtle nature of Shadow, this is acceptable to the Emperor. Lord Emmerian has many other avenues to avail himself of the network, none of which have been used.

“He has been seen in the air above the fief of Bellusdeo, alongside Lord Bellusdeo herself.” He lifted a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “We are grateful that races outside of our own do not fully understand the Dragon tongue. Were it not for the appearance of a third Dragon, their argument might have continued.”

“Third Dragon?”

“Lannagaros believes it to be the Avatar of Bellusdeo’s Tower.”

Karriamis. That would make some sense.

“The Avatar intervened, and the argument—such as it was—retreated to a more private environment.”

“The Tower itself.”

“That is our assumption, yes. Lord Emmerian, however, has not yet emerged from that Tower.”

“And Bellusdeo?”

Sanabalis didn’t answer. It was the wrong kind of nonanswer.

Kaylin folded her arms and leaned back in her chair, tilting it onto two legs. “What’s happening with Bellusdeo?”

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