Squawk.
“They are not like you; they are more like you than the basement of my house, or your Helen. They are attempting to communicate,” he added. “Can you not hear them?”
She couldn’t, of course. But...she could see them, could see the light they shed. She wondered if that light was the Gilbert equivalent of a foreign language. She exhaled. “You hold Kattea,” she said. “I’ll touch the stones.”
“No.”
“Kattea is a mortal child. I’m the Chosen.”
“You have already said you do not understand what that means.”
“I don’t understand what it means to you, no. Or even to the Ancients. But my arms are starting to ache. I think I can survive talking to a stone or three.”
Squawk.
The familiar abruptly lowered his wing. In case his meaning was too subtle, he also smacked Kaylin’s cheek with it.
“Tell me again why I missed you?” Turning to Severn, she said, “Three bodies. Three stones. Gilbert says both the bodies and the stones are alive.”
“I do not understand,” Gilbert added, “why you speak of them as if they are distinct and separate.”
“...They’re not separate to you.”
“No.”
Kaylin grimaced, stepped forward and placed her hand on the nearest stone. Her hand passed through it. The stones were not solid. They weren’t speaking to her, either. “Fine. Gavin?”
He nodded.
“Apparently the three dead men walked across the street last night—or the night before—and attempted to break into Gilbert’s house. We don’t have to cut them up—but I’d suggest we move them.”
“I’ll mirror the request in—” He stopped. Had he been Kaylin, he would have cursed. “I’ll send Lianne to the Halls with the request.”
But Gilbert shook his head. “If you mean to move the bodies you can see, it will make no difference. This is where they are.”
Kaylin exhaled. “If I move—”
“Yes. If you move—or any of your compatriots, save your familiar, and Helen, who cannot—you move. Moving these three will not materially change anything; in any real sense, they are, and will remain, here.”
“Fine.” She looked to Severn. “Elani or Tiamaris?”
He tossed her a coin.
Chapter 18
Kattea explained what a coin toss meant while they trudged their way toward Elani Street. Gilbert did not set Kattea down, but she seemed willing to forgo the dignity of being treated like an adult for the duration of her explanation.
“I’m not certain you’re going to be invited in,” Kaylin told him.
Gilbert nodded.
“Is this one of the buildings that looks real, to you?”
“Yes.”
“Does it look dangerous?”
“I don’t understand the question.”
Given that Gilbert could confuse an attempted murder for an act of communication gone wrong, Kaylin supposed that made sense. The small dragon did not consider Elani Street worth much effort and was sacked out across her shoulders. He lifted his head when she reached Evanton’s door.
It opened before she could touch the knocker.
A wild-eyed Grethan stood in the door, the stalks on his forehead weaving like a drunk. He was dripping wet. “Kaylin!”
She almost took a step back. “Are you going to stand in the doorway or can we come in?”
He moved. He moved back, and Kaylin understood why he was soaked: it was raining. Inside the store. The familiar squawked in obvious displeasure and bit Kaylin’s hair when she was stupid enough to enter anyway.
Severn followed; she was surprised to hear a familiar Aerian curse from him, although it wasn’t loud.
Gilbert, however, remained outside, which implied he had more common sense than Kattea was willing to acknowledge. He bowed—awkwardly, since he was still carrying the girl.
Grethan said, “Evanton’s not accepting visitors today.”
“I cannot enter without your permission. It would be irresponsible and very unsafe.”
Grethan looked to Kaylin. Evanton’s apprentice was not at his best today. “I trust him,” Kaylin told the Tha’alani youth. “Or at least I trust his intent.”
Grethan knew the difference. But he wasn’t Evanton. “I’m not sure it’s my permission you need,” he said.
Gilbert, however, smiled. “Your permission will do.”
“But I’m not—I’m not the Keeper.”
“I am uncertain what you mean by Keeper; I am not uncertain about permission. If you are willing to grant me entry, I will enter. If you are not, I will wait. It seems less unpleasant outside,” he added.
Grethan muttered, “Tell me about it. Yes, if you’re stupid enough to want it, you have my permission. I’m sorry about the rain,” he added.
*