Erin stayed close by Arturyn’s side as they left the eyathar, and they reached the outside of the building without incident. The two guards were waiting for them by the gate with the paskjys. One of them lifted Erin onto a paskjy behind Arturyn again, where she sat with her left leg sticking out a little due to her stiff new brace.

“So how did everything go with your leg?” Arturyn asked as they went through the gate and entered the stream of traffic moving along the street outside. “I was going to ask you earlier, but we got a little sidetracked talking about all the other strange things you’ve been going through lately.”

“I think it went all right,” Erin said. “I slept through most of it.”

“Well, you’re lucky there. Kimoja made me stay awake through all of mine. That’s the real reason Legan was there, of course—to keep me entertained every time I had to sit and stare at the ceiling for half an hour waiting for whatever concoction she had just put in my eye to work.” Arturyn grimaced. “So, did Somarid manage to fix everything for you?”

“Pretty much. The skin on my hands and leg is kind of sore from getting rid of the scars, but that’s only supposed to last for a couple of days. And my knee doesn’t hurt inside at all now, which is definitely an improvement. They said I should be all better in a few weeks.”

“Well, that will make running away from Mataiths easier in the future,” Arturyn said dryly.

Erin shuddered. “I guess it would, but I hope I never have to try it out.”

She was quiet for a few minutes, watching the buildings and people go by and thinking about everything that had happened to her that morning.

“Arturyn, do you have to go to meetings right away when we get back to the palace?” she asked at last.

“It will be soon enough, though I might get a few minutes to eat lunch first, if I’m lucky.” He glanced back at her. “Why?”

“I just wondered if you had a few minutes to talk. There’s something I want to ask you about.”

“You can’t ask me now?”

“Well….” Erin hesitated. “It's something I'd rather not have anyone else overhear.”

Arturyn looked back at her again, frowning slightly. “You can have lunch with me, if you want. I won’t have very long, though—maybe twenty or thirty minutes.”

“That might be enough.” Erin thought for a minute. “Oh, and there’s something else that I could ask you now. What exactly is a fylas?”

“It’s a kind of trigger magic,” Arturyn said, steering their paskjy around a large cart pulled by two of the striped, cow-like animals that Jechrin had told Erin were called treifs. “A fylas is a magical network that’s usually set up inside a building. You can use it to travel directly from one place to another. The Zeiryn Eyathar has a fylas set up throughout the entire building, so you can go from any part of the eyathar to any other part, as long as it hasn’t been magically locked. It also has points set up in all the other buildings at the school and at points throughout the city to go directly to a room in the eyathar. Those are very useful in emergencies when someone is injured and needs to get to a healer as soon as possible. The fylas also helps the eyathar staff move quickly to different rooms and allows them to work more efficiently and save time, which can sometimes save lives. Their particular fylas is operated using doors. You can basically make any door in the eyathar lead to anywhere that any other door in the building leads to.”

“And you make it work using magic?”

Arturyn nodded. “It’s really quite simple to do, once you learn the process. But it requires some magical training, which is why we were all so surprised when you told us that you had been activating the fylas unintentionally. You shouldn’t have been able to do that, since you haven’t learned how to use magic yet.”

“I’ve learned just a little,” Erin said. “Jechrin taught me how to light a candle with magic yesterday.”

They had just started across the bridge over to the palace, so there was much less traffic than in the city streets. This was fortunate, because at Erin’s words, Arturyn actually pulled the paskjy to a halt and twisted around to stare at her.

“You learned to light a candle? In one day?”

Erin nodded, startled by his response.

“It normally takes weeks for anyone to get that far....” Arturyn shook his head in disbelief. “Erin, don’t take this the wrong way, but there’s something seriously strange about you.” He turned back around and nudged the paskjy forward again. “You keep doing all these things you shouldn’t be able to do. It’s really starting to worry me.”

When they reached the palace, Erin followed Arturyn up to his study, where the piles of papers waiting for his attention seemed to have grown even deeper. On the way, they were ambushed by an anxious-looking Bredin carrying yet another handful of papers, which Arturyn took and made a face at before shooing him away.

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“Some days I’m not sure why I keep him around,” Arturyn said as they sat down at a table that a servant had conjured up from somewhere for them. “I swear his entire purpose in life is to keep me as busy as possible.”

“You could get a new secretary, couldn't you?” Erin asked, watching a woman in a servant's uniform spread their lunch out on the table.

Arturyn smiled. “Yes, I could. But when I had a different secretary, I was twice as busy and only got half as much done.” He sighed. “No, Bredin’s very good—he really is. It’s just that he's so worried about everything all the time….”

The woman finished setting out dishes and said something in Silmarith. It sounded like a question, and Erin guessed she was asking if they wanted anything else. Arturyn shook his head and thanked her. The woman smiled, curtseyed, and left the room.

“Well, Erin, I have precisely twenty-three minutes to give you,” Arturyn said, glancing at the clock over the fireplace before picking up a ceramic pitcher and filling his cup. “What was it you wanted to ask me about?”

“It’s…well, this is going to sound kind of strange…okay, really strange,” Erin began, feeling for words. “There’s something important that I have to tell Kirchel. Only she’s been acting kind of weird the last few days….”

“I'd noticed....” Arturyn muttered.

“…so I’m not quite sure how she’ll react or how I should tell her. I’m not even sure how to tell you. See, it’s about something that happened when I was wandering around the storage rooms at the eyathar. I wasn’t sure if I ought to mention it when I was explaining where I’d been. I think Legan would have changed his mind about thinking I’m crazy if I’d said anything.”

Arturyn frowned at her. “What is it? What happened?” When Erin hesitated, he went on, in a gentler voice, “I’m not going to think you’re crazy. Forget what I said on the way here about you being strange, all right? I know it’s not your fault that bizarre things keep happening to you. Tell me what happened at the eyathar. I’ll believe you—I promise.”

Erin took a deep breath. “You remember I said I finally found someone to help me get back to your room? Well, it was someone that I knew. Or…I guess I should say it was someone I recognized. I’d never actually met him before.”

Arturyn was leaning forward, listening intently. “Who was it?”

“It was….” Erin swallowed. “I know this sounds completely crazy, but…it was…Kirchel’s father.”

Arturyn stared at her for several long seconds before he spoke. “Did you say…'Kirchel’s father?'”

“Yes.”

“Erin, you do know that he died in an accident when Kirchel was a child, don’t you?” Arturyn sounded like he was trying to ask the question as tactfully as he could.

“Yes, I know,” Erin said earnestly. “I didn’t think it could possibly be him either. I’m still not sure if I believe it. But he looked so much like Kirchel’s father—just like the photos she showed me of him. So I asked him, and he said yes, his name was Edward Marin, and Kirchel was his daughter, and he knew he was supposed to be dead, but he wasn’t.” Erin shook her head distractedly. “He didn’t explain what had happened or how he could still be alive. He was in a hurry to leave, and he said something about it ruining everything if somebody named Nievar found out he was gone. But he asked me to tell Kirchel to meet him at the Nirá Garden tomorrow night.”

Arturyn didn’t say anything. He was staring down at his bowl of soup.

“Do you think…was he really there?” Erin asked uncertainly. “I wondered if he might be some kind of ghost. But I touched him, and he was solid. Of course, Wraith seems solid to me, too, and he really acts like a ghost....”

She was silent for a moment, thinking.

“When I first saw Kirchel’s father—if it was her father—he didn’t know who I was, so he hurried on down the hall. I went after him, but he went around a corner and down some stairs. I was rushing to catch up to him and didn’t realize the stairs were there, so I tripped and fell down them. I’ve even got bruises from it, see?”

Erin pulled up her right sleeve to show Arturyn a large bruise starting to form on her elbow.

“So I know I didn’t imagine that. I also hit my nose, and it was bleeding. Kirchel’s father stopped when he heard me fall, and he made my nose stop bleeding and cleaned all the blood off me. A ghost couldn’t have done that, could it?”

“No...I don’t think so,” Arturyn said slowly. “It couldn’t have activated the fylas and sent you back to my room, either.” He toyed with his spoon for a minute, his expression thoughtful. “No, I think it must have been a real person you met. And I believe you when you say he told you he was Kirchel’s father. But whether he actually was or not…I don’t know.”

“Do you think I should tell Kirchel? Should I tell her to go meet him tomorrow night? Do you think it’s safe?”

Arturyn frowned. “Yes, I think you should tell her. If by some chance he really is her father, I know she would want to see him. But you’re right in wondering about her safety in case he isn’t who he claims to be.”

He was silent for a few seconds, drumming his fingers on the tabletop.

“Why don’t you wait to tell her until tonight? I want to talk to her after I’m liberated from meetings anyway. The three of us can talk over what happened together and try to decide what’s best for her to do. Does that sound all right?”

“That’s a good idea,” Erin said, relieved to think she wouldn’t have to talk to Kirchel on her own. It was quite a difficult subject, after all, and it didn’t help that Kirchel barely seemed to remember that she existed anymore.

“All right, then.” Arturyn looked at the clock again. “Well, we managed to fit our talk into my allotted twenty-three minutes.” He gave Erin a wry smile. “And you even left me seven of them to finish my lunch in. That’s a feat that very few people in the Silmarith government could ever perform.”