Kaylin frowned. “Helen?”
“Yes, dear.”
She got up as Mrs. Erickson reached the table and pulled out the chair meant for the older woman. Fallessian would have done it, but his hands were full of dinner.
“Do things persist between planes? I mean—if I find a book in one of them, can I bring it here?”
“Yes, if the book was created here. Many sorcerers of old were reputed to place their research notes and books in alternate dimensions.”
“Are those alternate dimensions similar to what Terrano does? I mean—do they exist as spaces adjacent to our plane, or are they part of our plane, just... pockets?”
“That is an excellent question,” Helen said with genuine approval.
“If a poison could be concocted—magically—in a world or place with slightly different rules, could its effects extend?”
“Yes—that is what we would expect. The body itself is part of our world, and the injuries sustained on that body would therefore be part of our world.”
“Every time Mandoran has pulled me to safety by taking me one half step outside of our world, my Marks were visible. Even in the path that we took to reach Terrano so I could heal him, I could see them.”
Helen nodded, frowning.
“If they weren’t attached to me, do you think they’d be active at all?”
“That is a question for the Arbiters,” Helen replied after much thought. “But what makes you ask that?”
“I couldn’t reach Nightshade on the other plane. But... the cohort could clearly speak with each other through the namebond. I could see the Marks of the Chosen. I’m asking questions as they occur to me because all we’ve got are questions, and it’s only when we start asking the right ones that we might reach answers.”
“Serralyn agrees. Loudly and emphatically. I know it’s been a long day—but if you were willing to head to the Academia, the Arbiters are available.”
“Will they be available tomorrow?” Kaylin asked. She could see Helen’s eyes were now obsidian.
“Student hours—and professor hours—are like office hours: they end at dinner. Exceptions can be made for the chancellor in emergencies.”
“Do they consider this an emergency?”
Mandoran glanced across the table at Fallessian. “Bellusdeo does.”
“...is she there?”
“No—but she was there, and she wasn’t subtle or quiet about her visit. You might remember that she ran into us when we were in attempted pursuit of Lord Nightshade’s attackers?”
Kaylin nodded.
“Well, she’s not happy about the use of the border zone—at this point, she’s not happy with its existence. Apparently, her own Tower didn’t have satisfactory answers, so she headed to the Academia to speak with the chancellor.”
“She’s not still there, though.” Ugh. “You know Hawks are trained in a number of things. Basic weapon skills. Endurancein case we have to give chase. Investigation of crime scenes. Speaking to witnesses when we want answers. Handling evidence.
“Self-defense. And right now, I really, really want to punch someone.”
“Mandoran,” Helen said, the word slightly edged. “Kaylin is not Barrani. She needs sleep. I will inform your sergeant that you will be working for the Dragon Court—in the morning.”
An argument seemed to be brewing within the cohort when Kaylin finished eating and left the table. She therefore finished eating quickly. If she slept, she could wake up early; if she argued, given Helen’s expression, she was likely to lose, in which case she’d go to bed later, and rehash the argument.
She knew when to surrender. But was now really the time?
“Yes,” Helen said.
Sleep was broken, but not by external noise. If the cohort had argued their way through to morning, they kept it to themselves. Had Nightshade worsened, she was certain she’d know. Helen might demand that the cohort let her sleep, but she wouldn’t forbid them from interrupting that sleep in an emergency.