Kaylin and waited. Kaylin nodded. “The thread goes to the door.”
“Beneath it?”
“It’s hard to say. When I looked at the road normally, it looked as if something very, very heavy and very thin had just landed. There was a V-shaped indent and a crack at the bottom of it. The path to the house isn’t made of the same stone, but it’s staved in the same way.”
“The stairs?”
There were only two steps up to the door. “Same as the road. The door doesn’t appear to be damaged, though. I’m not sure whether the line goes into the house or beneath it.”
“Is it active?” Bellusdeo asked.
“I don’t know. It’s Shadow.” She hesitated and then said, “It’s like what we might see—the Shadow part, not the staved-in stone—if a living person had been deeply cut but could still keep moving. I think it might be the equivalent of—”
“Bleeding?”
Kaylin nodded. “This is not an expert opinion,” she added, as Teela lifted the mirror. “And I’d just as soon not enter that opinion in Records if I can avoid it.”
“You’ve got far stupider opinions entered in Records.”
“I was thirteen, Teela.”
* * *
The home itself was not large; it was not one of the grand manors nestled in the heart of the wealthy district. It was modest in size, but seemed to be in good repair. The stairs were stone, and the foundation appeared to be stone as well—but in Elantra, that wasn’t entirely unusual. Kaylin had been told that it was, farther away from the city, but her only experience outside of the city had been the West March, which didn’t count.
The front door was not warded. That was also unusual, but not unheard-of; Kaylin’s previous home had been without door wards, as had almost all of the other apartments in the same building. Door wards were expensive. Even if they didn’t make her hand numb and her skin ache, she would have had a decent excuse for not having one.
Teela knocked on the door. Given Kaylin’s description of the stairs, she chose not to stand in the center of them. They would have carried her weight, regardless. Bellusdeo stood back, beside Kaylin.
“You can’t see anything?” Kaylin asked.
Bellusdeo shook her head. “We have some methods of drawing Shadow out—of forcing it out—of its inanimate hiding places. But many of those methods are complicated; they can’t be done in an instant. To do it, the Norannir would have to come, and that would probably cause panic. You might recall the war drums?”
Kaylin nodded.
“They’re very effective, but definitely not quiet. I think Imperial permission would probably be necessary; at the very least, we would want to clear the drumming with the Swords. It is likely to cause some...unrest. Besides, your marks aren’t glowing.”
“How can you tell?”
“When they glow, they’re visible, even through your sleeves.” She glanced at the small dragon. “And Hope is alert, but not yet worried.”
The small dragon crooned. It was not one of his regular noises. He then glanced at Severn and made the same sound. Severn nodded as if he understood. It was very frustrating. The familiar, in theory, was hers, and she seemed to be the only person who couldn’t understand him.
Teela ignored them and knocked again, this time with more force. Tain lifted Kaylin—literally—and set her to one side; he then joined Teela in the space he’d cleared. Bellusdeo clearly found this amusing.
“She’s not furniture,” Teela pointed out, as she waited for some sort of response from the resident of the house.
“No. She’s too bony and too loud.”
Teela knocked a third time. Nothing. Kaylin knew there wouldn’t be a fourth attempt.
True to form, Teela raised her voice to let the occupants of the house—if they were present—know that Hawks were standing on their doorstep and were about to enter. This still elicited no response.
It wasn’t completely unheard-of for a house to be empty at this time of day, but it was rare. The streets often felt as if they were full of small children and their elderly minders, but many actually stayed home if they had yards or a small space outdoors—something Kaylin had never had in her childhood.
Teela tried the doorknob. The door was locked. Placing a hand on the door itself, the Barrani Hawk closed her eyes. “Bolted,” she murmured.
“We can kick it in,” Tain offered.
Teela, however, shook her head, her expression shifting. To Kaylin’s wing-masked eyes, the door looked entirely normal. “Kitling, the door?”
Kaylin reached up and pushed the dragon wing aside. “No magic that I can see.”
“None?”
She pushed her way past Tain and looked again, bringing her eyes inches away from Teela’s resting palm. She frowned. “...Maybe.”
“Best guess?”
“Someone may have bolted the door from the outside. It wouldn’t be difficult for most mages.”
“Not diligent students, at any rate.” Teela opened the bolt. Magically. She pushed the door inward and entered.
* * *
The house appeared to be empty, which wasn’t Kaylin’s immediate concern. As she once again lifted the dragon’s wing, she looked down at the floor. The crack they’d followed to this particular door couldn’t be seen; the wooden floor was worn in some areas, but solid. The sense of magic was absent.
Teela walked into the house, announcing her presence loudly without actually shouting, a trick Kaylin had not quite mastered. The Barrani Hawk’s voice almost echoed. The house appeared to be empty. For one long beat, Kaylin felt that the house had always been empty.
The building had two stories. They searched the first floor. Aside from the accumulated mess any house gathered and displayed when visitors weren’t expected, there was nothing that caught the eye. Teela headed upstairs, Tain in tow. Severn, Kaylin and Bellusdeo headed toward the back door to investigate the yard.
The back door, like the front, was bolted; the windows that faced the yard were glassed and barred. The bars appeared to be new. Kaylin studied the bolt, first with small and squawky’s translucent wing, and then without; it appeared to be exactly what it was.
“The bolt looks new,” Severn said.
Kaylin nodded. She opened the door and looked down the few steps into a fenced yard. The fence, like the bars on the window, appeared to be newly constructed—and in this area of town, fences were rare. The yards were generally like one great common.
The steps just beneath the door bore cracks similar to the road and the front steps of the house. They also—in winged view—looked as if they’d been broken instantly by too great a
