or what, is responsible for the stability of the grid; I do not know who, or what, created the spells that contain it; nor do I fully understand the magic that sustains it.”
“Don’t do it,” Mandoran said.
Kaylin glared at him. “Why not?”
“You don’t let stray magic into the heart of your home.”
“Everyone else does.”
“So I’d gathered.” He winced. “Teela’s in a mood, by the way.”
Great.
“I don’t know what kind of power your people have—I have to assume it’s not significant.”
Big surprise.
“But someone with significant power could transmit or feed an entirely different kind of magic through the lattice on which the mirror network is built.”
“I’d think the Emperor would have something to say about that—mirrors function in the Palace.”
“Dragons aren’t as fragile as mortals, for one. Look—I’m not an Arcanist. There are no doubt some protections built into the mirror network to prevent its use as a weapon. I can imagine those protections being successful in most cases—but not all. Magic is not precise; it’s not entirely predictable—as you should well know.
“But the possibility of being used as a weapon is not the only threat the mirrors might pose. It’s highly likely that they could transmit private information to outside observers.” His expression darkening, he added, “I mean—Teela lets the damn network follow her.”
Not for the first time, Kaylin wished she could be part of that internal dialogue. “The communication—the flow of information—is bound to mirrors. Teela can’t just speak to me whenever she wants unless I carry a portable mirror on my person—and those are way too expensive to give to a private. I can mirror Teela—and she’ll pick up if she’s near a functioning mirror. Break the mirror, and you break the communication. And the mirrors aren’t any sturdier than regular glass.”
“If you were better at magic,” Mandoran told her, “you could easily do what Teela does. It wouldn’t be expensive.”
Kaylin’s magic lessons had been severely disrupted for the past two months, but the implication that she was incompetent was clear. She tried to swallow her defensive words because, blunt or not, he was only speaking the truth. She even managed to succeed, although swallowing food was easier. She focused on that instead.
“If you allow your network access to this house, as opposed to the hovel you purportedly lived in before the Palace,” Mandoran continued, “the information to be gained could be a danger—to Helen. No one was interested in your previous home until Bellusdeo arrived. They might have had a great deal of interest in your palace residence, but Teela tells me the Palace is practically a magical stronghold.” His expression made it clear that he didn’t agree. And also made clear, after a moment, that Teela didn’t think much of his disagreement and was letting him know.
The thought of Teela in lecture mode made Kaylin appreciate being left out. “People mirror me when they need me. And when they need me, it’s an emergency. They don’t have time to run halfway across the city to hand-deliver a message.” She turned to Helen and added, “Even Tiamaris—the Tower of Tiamaris—has mirror access.”
Helen frowned. “Let me see, dear.”
Kaylin was already thinking about mirrors made of water in the large, glyphed stone room of that Tower, Tara standing beside them, her eyes not quite human.
“Is it only in that room that you have access to your network?”
Kaylin frowned. “No. Tara can create a mirror out of nothing if we need one.”
“Understood. I will look into this further. I am no longer—as you know—what I was when I was first created. Information I once possessed has now been lost, and I must work the way you do.” This was not in any way accurate, but Kaylin didn’t quibble. “It would be useful to have some contact with at least one of the Seven Towers; the Seven do not take unnecessary risks.” She glanced at Mandoran. “Perhaps you can be of aid in this regard.”
“I’d like to be a guest, if it’s all the same to you.” Mandoran’s answer—which didn’t appear to line up with Helen’s comment—caused Kaylin obvious confusion. “Guests aren’t asked to do necessary work—in large part because they can’t be trusted with it.” Mandoran’s smile was sharp, lean.
“I am not Barrani,” Helen replied, an edge of disapproval in her otherwise correct voice. “Believe that I would know if you were misbehaving anywhere it was likely to cause damage.” Her expression softening, she added, “We would not have survived without your intervention—and to intervene, you stood almost at the heart of my power. As such, there is now very little with which I would not trust you.”
“It doesn’t seem like an adequate reward for good behavior,” Mandoran replied. He was grinning unrepentantly; it made his entire face both younger and more compelling. “I am, on the other hand, willing to entertain the prospect—if helping out around the house gets me out of other duties.”
“I don’t know why you say these things; you are just going to annoy your brother.” Helen’s voice was now reproving.
“Too late.” Mandoran had apparently had enough of the breakfast he’d hardly touched. He stood, turned to Kaylin and added, “Sorry if we woke you up.”
“I had to go in to work today anyway.”
“That’s what I said, but Helen didn’t agree.”
* * *
As Kaylin left the dining room and headed toward the grandly lit front doors, there was another surprise waiting for her. The wide, curving stairs had a person on them. Bellusdeo.
Kaylin almost didn’t recognize her. Gone was the fancy court dress that marked so much of her life in public; she was wearing pants and a tunic. The shirt beneath the tunic was beige, and if the cloth was a much more expensive weave than Kaylin could afford, it wasn’t immediately obvious. Her hair had been pulled up off her shoulders; she wore no obvious jewelry.
“Do I have something unpleasant on my face?” Bellusdeo asked, her eyes a steady bronze.
Kaylin remembered to close her mouth. “No—it just feels like it’s been so long since I’ve seen it.”
“And absence has made your heart grow fonder?”
Kaylin blinked.
“It’s a mortal phrase, I believe.”
“Mortal covers a lot of cultural territory.”
“True. I admit that I don’t completely understand the usage. I’m using it incorrectly?”
“I wouldn’t say that, exactly. Are you coming with me to the office?”
“I’m not dressed like this for Diamart’s abominable, condescending lessons, no.” Her smile deepened in exactly the wrong way. “When
