“It appears to contain a conversation. Or several.”
“In an expensive room? I mean, a room with expensive things in it?”
This question caused Helen to fall silent, and Kaylin surrendered. “Let me see it.”
“Coming with you,” Bellusdeo said immediately.
“I don’t think that’s wise, dear,” Helen told the gold Dragon. “Kaylin will have to view it in the least secure area in the house—it’s the only area in which I am willing to be less self-contained, and it is therefore not completely defensible.”
“I spent all day in the Halls of Law, in the infirmary. I think your version of ‘not completely’ is worlds better than the Halls’ version of ‘completely.’”
Helen admitted that she had a point.
* * *
As it happened, Helen’s not-secure-enough-room was a very crowded room by the time she had cleared Margot’s message for viewing. Bellusdeo, of course, was present—but it wasn’t just the Dragon. Severn tagged along, and Mandoran and Annarion came up from the bowels of the training room, as well. Moran said, “I’ve seen it. I don’t need to see it again.” She was the only person who headed immediately to either the dining hall or her room.
“Don’t give us that look,” Mandoran said, clearly still unhappy about being merged with a random wall earlier in the day. “Teela made us come up. She wants to see it.” He winced. “And now she’s pissed off, too. You guys seriously have the worst jobs ever.” All of this was spoken in Elantran, which Mandoran now used more frequently than his mother tongue.
“The best jobs ever, you mean?”
“The worst. Back in the day, we wouldn’t have been tasked with keeping mortals alive. We’d let them squabble among themselves until things were sorted.” Catching Kaylin’s glare, he shrugged. “Mortals are easy to kill. You can practically do it by accident. Keeping them alive is alottrickier than killing them.”
“Thanks.”
“You asked.”
“I didn’t, actually. I corrected you.”
Helen generally waited until there was a break in conversation. This time, she gestured, and the mirror on the wall immediately lost its reflective surface.
* * *
Because they now had people who hadn’t seen the earliest part of the transmission, Kaylin and Severn were forced to sit through—or, rather, stand through—a repeat. Mandoran asked questions. He clearly recognized Margot, and equally clearly still considered her striking or attractive, which did nothing to improve Kaylin’s mood. She personally found Bellusdeo vastly more attractive than Margot—but Bellusdeo was a Dragon, not a mortal, and Mandoran’s early life had been lived during the Draco-Barrani wars.
And to be fair to Mandoran—not that that held a lot of appeal at this very second—he wasn’t asking more questions than Kaylin had asked when Margot had started the Records playback the first time.
* * *
When Margot started to speak of the Dragon, Bellusdeo tensed. She was unsatisfied with the answers Margot gave in regards to the Dragon’s color.
“There’s a lone Aerian,” Margot was saying, lips thin. She looked as if she was struggling against the compulsion that had taken hold of her sight, and failing badly to gain any ground.
The man who was now gracing a holding cell leaned forward. “Describe the Aerian.”
“They’re too far away. Could be male, could be female. The only thing that’s clear from this distance are the wings.”
“What about the wings?” Sharper question.
“They’re white, or maybe pale gray. They’re spread for gliding, and they appear to be glowing.” Margot frowned. “Parts of the wings are glowing.” Her forehead creased. “I think there might be something written on the wings themselves, but I can’t read it. They’re too far away.”
“Look more closely,” the man demanded.
Margot said, in a distinct and chilly voice, “That is not the way visions work.”
“Visions can be invoked.”
“Clearly. But they can’t be controlled. The vision itself is given without comment. It’s not like a Records capture. I can’t enlarge what’s there. I can watch it. I can try to remember it. I can’t magically tell it to become clearer or easier to understand.”
