Not by chin alone, no.
Hope squawked loudly and smacked Kaylin’s face with the wing that he’d lifted. He lowered it briefly, and she understood why: without his wing, she couldn’t see either of Killian’s companions.
* * *
Killian’s companions did not expect to be seen.
Kaylin could see them, which posed a minor problem. She had no easy way of warning her companions about their presence without also alerting them.
Hope sighed. He squawked loudly. Kaylin wondered what he would look like as a translucent bird. For some reason, he smacked her face with his wing again. Killian stepped out; his companions did not. He offered Kaylin a slight nod, but his expression was so rigid it was easy to believe it might have been a trick of the light.
“Sorry for bothering you at home,” Kaylin said. She fell silent. It was hard not to look at the Barrani and the human.
Nightshade, where are you?
I am in a large auditorium.
Why?
I am, apparently, attending a lecture.
A lecture.
Yes. It would, if I had any control over my presence, be of great interest to me. You have made clear that you dislike the classes forced upon you by the Hawks; I am therefore less certain that it would be of interest to you. That thought amused him. And he wasn’t lying; the lecture—about theoretical magic and its practical possible applications—was of interest to him. But beneath the surface of the formed words were many tangled emotions, one of which was anger.
We can’t hear you when the doors to Killian’s building aren’t open. The cohort can’t hear their companions, either. Are Mandoran or Terrano in your lecture hall?
They are not here as students, he replied.
This did not fill Kaylin with confidence. Do you recognize either of the two people standing behind Killian? These two are definitely not here as students.
None of us should be here as students, was Nightshade’s response. He didn’t answer the question. Which meant he had no intention of doing so.
Who is the lecturer? Barrani?
He chuckled. A Barrani man you have no reason to know.
And you do?
I know of him. No one present knows him, in the more colloquial sense of the word. I believe, he added, his tone changing, that Annarion’s friends have found the auditorium. Quickly, then: I have attended this lecture only once. I believe the other students have heard it many times; there does not seem to be variation. I assumed, initially, that the students were illusory.
But?
But I remember the wall you discovered. I do not believe I will be able to extricate myself from this classroom immediately.
Can we get you out?
Before Nightshade could answer, the building shuddered. The stairs shuddered. Killian, his single eye already an uncomfortable shade of blue, wheeled instantly. The two almost invisible men staggered as the building continued its ominous movement.
“This is not the place for you,” Killian said, his back to Kaylin. “You will need to discuss your placement here, should you wish to return, with the chancellor.”
“But you said—”
“I cannot speak further. I must go.”
“But I have something for you!”
He paused but did not turn, and the pause was so brief Kaylin wondered if she’d imagined it. The people to either side of Killian made way, moving to the left and right of the straight path his long strides demanded. But the Barrani lifted hands to his hood and drew it down.
He wore an Arcanist’s tiara; set in its delicate peak was a ruby. It was not a small gem, and it appeared, to Kaylin’s eye, to be pulsing.
Nightshade cursed.
The doors are closing. We’ll come back a different way.
Do not return yet. I believe Annarion’s friends are now causing difficulties. Ask Annarion to tell them that Illanen is present, and he is not to be trifled with. Tell them also that Illanen appears to be capable of existing slightly out of phase. He will understand what that means.
Kaylin turned to Annarion; the doors were not yet closed. “Tell Terrano that Illanen of the Arcanum is here, and he can sort of move the way you guys do. Yes, the message is from your brother.”
Annarion nodded as the doors rolled shut.
* * *
Finding a way out was far easier than finding the way in had been. The streets, when followed, led naturally to streets that were more easily accessible from the fiefs. But once they were standing in the fief of Nightshade, Kaylin turned to Teela.
“Who is Illanen?”
Teela’s eyes were already blue; they didn’t darken. “An Arcanist and Lord of the High Court.”
“What was he doing with Killian?”
“Are you attempting to give the rest of us information out of sequence?”
Kaylin flushed. “...Sorry. I could see a robed Barrani and a human standing beside Killian when the doors opened. The human is a caste lord, according to Severn. I didn’t recognize the Barrani; I knew he was an Arcanist only at the end, during the earthquake. Seriously, I wish the Emperor would burn down the damn Arcanum. Arcanists are nothing but trouble.”
“I am—or have been—a member of the Arcanum.” The Barrani Hawk chuckled. “Even the Emperor would find it difficult to destroy the Arcanum. Have you visited the High Halls since the cohort underwent the Test of Name?”
“No, and you already know that.”
“I suggest you do. It has afforded me great amusement.”
“Why amusement?”
“She’s a sadist,” Allaron surprised Kaylin by saying. He reddened and added, “That was Sedarias.”
Of course it was. “Can we get back to Illanen?”
“And the Caste Court human?”
“Severn’s researching him now. Somehow.”
“At this hour?”
“He doesn’t sleep a lot.” Kaylin shivered.
“You didn’t deliver Larrantin’s message.”
“I did try—I just didn’t expect Killian to have invisible visitors.”
“Was he aware of them?”
That was a good question. “I assume he must be—but I didn’t ask.” Her frown deepened. “If he is the Avatar of the building, his eyes are metaphorical. Or something. Helen could create an Avatar with only a mouth and she’d still be Helen and still be aware. But...I think you might be right. There are things he doesn’t notice. There are probably things he can’t do. I think the missing eye represents some part of that.
“And I think, in some way, the border zone is related to Killian, if not caused by him.” Her teeth were chattering now. “I think,” she said to Bellusdeo, “we should stop at the Imperial Library before we go home.”
Bellusdeo nodded. She turned to Maggaron and said, “I’ll ask you to go home with the cohort; all of the hostility we are likely to encounter in the palace will be personal and petty. And you know what I’m like.” The last was said with the sweetest of smiles to grace a Dragon’s face.
Maggaron, however, winced and nodded.
* * *
Kaylin cursed the Arcanum in all the languages she knew as they headed through the streets of Nightshade. Ferals howled in the distance, but the howls remained at a remove. Some part of Kaylin wanted to go out on Dragon back and turn them to ash. Some part of her wanted to give the Arkon this damn book. It was, because she was shivering, unwieldy and seemed to be gaining weight.
Bellusdeo didn’t see what Kaylin saw; she could discern an object, but it was not, to her eyes, a book. Given that Larrantin was Barrani, and probably yet another Arcanist, that made sense. Whatever it was, Kaylin wanted to be done with it.
Annarion had questions about Nightshade; Kaylin answered them as truthfully as she could. She could no longer hear him, and her guess—that he had somehow been su
cked into the wall—matched his. But...he wasn’t dead, and if he was worried, he wasn’t in pain and he wasn’t unhappy. She was, by this point, very familiar with his unhappy voice.
“Mandoran and Terrano did something. Killian wasn’t particularly happy about it. But the invisible visitors felt whatever it was they did, as well. I’m thinking,” she added, “of strangling Terrano.”
“Sedarias says: ‘Stand in line.’ You think they learned this from Terrano, somehow?”
“Or from someone Terrano taught, yes. He wasn’t concerned about what would happen to the rest of us at the time, so he didn’t exactly think through the consequences.”
“He doesn’t generally think through consequences even if we’re going to be stuck with them,” Annarion pointed out.
“I really don’t think it’s a great idea to have Mandoran and Terrano be your point people. Just saying.”
“Terrano can still go where some of us can’t. Mandoran is second best.” Annarion shrugged. “And none of us can tell Terrano what to do. Or what not to do. In his defense, he’s trying to be careful.”
“This is not careful.”
“For Terrano?” Annarion didn’t wait for an answer. “We’ll head home. Sedarias doesn’t want us to meet the Emperor yet.”
Kaylin agreed, although she wasn’t going to meet the Emperor, and they’d already managed to meet the Arkon without giving or taking offense.
* * *
A palace steward was on duty though it was late in the night—or early in the morning. So were the Imperial Guards. Kaylin disliked both on principle, but let Bellusdeo do the talking for obvious reasons. And for less obvious reasons: she wasn’t sure she could speak without sounding like someone in serious need of a fix.
Bellusdeo didn’t have that problem. She was in Dragon armor, not the clothing most of the Dragon Court wore, which made her look—to Kaylin’s eye—more regal, not less. The palace guard were silent and invisible. If they sneered at Kaylin, as she was certain they would otherwise be doing, they did it on the inside of their heads.
The steward was clearly concerned. But...the Arkon, like most immortals, didn’t require sleep. He did require a certain amount of privacy, and he disliked interruptions when he was otherwise expecting to get that privacy. Kaylin understood the steward’s hesitation. Bellusdeo understood it, as well. She glanced at Kaylin. “If it is acceptable, I will not require a page to approach the library.”
Silence.
“I believe the Arkon left strict instructions that he was not to be disturbed.”
“I’m sure he did. You require his explicit permission?”
The poor man paled.
“Fine.” Bellusdeo lifted her chin and opened her mouth. Kaylin couldn’t cover both of her ears, even with this much warning, because she’d drop the book. But Bellusdeo spoke in a voice to wake either the dead or distracted Dragons, and she spoke in her native tongue.
* * *
Even the Imperial Guards cracked something that looked like an expression. Kaylin was impressed. The steward, however, looked resigned. If Bellusdeo’s Draconic had been a short bark of sound, he might have managed to keep hold of the starched, stiff lines of the palace’s version of helpful and welcoming—but she went on for some time. Kaylin did cover the one ear she could easily reach.
She kept her eyes on the long hall behind the obstructing desk. It didn’t disgorge more guards. No, instead, two figures entered the hall, coming round a corner at almost the same time. Kaylin recognized both men. Well, Dragons.
One was Lord Sanabalis, and the other, to her surprise, was Lord Emmerian. She was relieved to see that Lord Diarmat didn’t immediately follow. The guards relaxed, although that didn’t mean much; she could see it in the lines of their faces and jaws. The steward, however, looked openly relieved when the two Dragons arrived.
Dragons didn’t require sleep. Kaylin wasn’t certain what the long sleep of Dragonkind entailed; for some cultures “long sleep” and death were synonyms. Not so with Dragons, because Bellusdeo had been denied permission to attempt to wake some of those sleeping Dragons. But if they didn’t need sleep, Sanabalis looked as if he could use a week of it.
Emmerian, however, looked exactly the way he always did. Calm, quiet.
“We will take over from here,” Sanabalis told the steward. He glared balefully at Kaylin. Since various emergencies had curtailed her magic lessons with Sanabalis, she thought this unfair. He wasn’t the Arkon, though; after a few seconds of orange-eyed glare, he transferred his annoyance to the person who had caused it.
“Lord Bellusdeo. While it is a pleasure to see you in the Imperial Palace, this is not the time at which visitors usually arrive.”
“Not mortal visitors, no.”
“Lord Kaylin is now an immortal?”
Please, Kaylin thought, don’t drag me into this. Hope nudged her cheek and then, as if to make a point, relaxed into his draped, bored position. If he started to snore, she was going to push him off her shoulders. He snickered instead, which wasn’t much better.
Sanabalis, however, had returned his glare to Kaylin. “What, exactly, are you carrying?”
“That’s the question, isn’t it? We’re taking it to the Arkon.” Her words were broken by involuntary shudders, which she forced herself to keep at a minimum.
“The Arkon is, ah, indisposed.”
“He’s sick?”
“No. You appear to be ill. He is...focused. He has made clear—loudly—that he does not wish to be interrupted.” Sanabalis glanced at Emmerian, as if he wished to pass the contents of this conversation to someone else. Emmerian was younger, which probably meant junior.
“Your previous visit,” Lord Emmerian then said in a much less irritable tone, “caused the type of focused concentration that the Arkon seldom engages in anymore. He has not eaten and has not rested since. He has given the librarians themselves a week of paid leave because even their presence is an annoyance.”
“The library is closed?”
“To the general public, yes.”
Kaylin looked at the book she was carrying in the space between her clothed arm and her rib cage. “Since yesterday.”
“Yes.”
“And you think he’ll turn us to ash—”
“You,” Bellusdeo interjected.
“Fine. You think he’ll turn me to ash if I interrupt him.”
“I believe you are capable of interrupting him, but his method of displaying annoyance will be more harmful to you, yes.” Lord Emmerian replied.
Which probably meant he was going to be a fire-breathing, angry old Dragon. Fire would cause financial damage to Emmerian and Sanabalis; they were wearing actual clothing. Given that Bellusdeo had left Helen in her scale armor, she probably didn’t care. Dragon hair in this form didn’t burn the same way Kaylin’s would.
She turned to Bellusdeo. She realized that both of the Dragons had also turned toward Bellusdeo, as if the entire decision rested on her shoulders.
“I believe that he will be interested in what Lord Kaylin carries. And I believe it may be germane to his current area of study.”
“What,” Sanabalis said again, “is Kaylin carrying?”
“I don’t suppose you have gloves? Mittens?”
His eyes remained orange, but he now looked down his nose at her as if she was sitting in the west room for one of his lessons and had failed to do the homework that lesson required.
She grimaced and pulled the book out. It was easier than trying to explain it.
Sanabalis’s eyes shifted color instantly, the orange giving way to something that looked like tarnished silver. “Where did you get that?” His voice was almost a hush.
Emmerian’s eyes remained the gold-orange they had been when he had accompanied Sanabalis down the hall.
Kaylin didn’t answer. She wanted Bellusdeo t
o do it because she was pretty certain she’d bite her tongue if she tried to explain. The explanation would require a lot of talking, and she couldn’t stop shivering.
Bellusdeo, being Bellusdeo, only smiled, the smile almost feline. “I don’t believe we wish to have to tell the story more than once. You are certain Lannagaros cannot be interrupted?”
“I begin to understand,” Sanabalis replied, as his eyes returned to their regularly scheduled orange, “why Lord Diarmat finds you so difficult.”
Chapter 14
The library doors were closed. Sanabalis did not offer to take what Kaylin was carrying. Neither did Lord Emmerian. Lord Emmerian, however, produced a scarf—from where, Kaylin couldn’t see—and she wrapped it gratefully around the hands that were numb, but still felt freezing cold.
“You will never,” Sanabalis said as they reached the doors, “become proficient in the use of magic if you cannot make time to even learn the basics.”
“Could we skip the candles and move straight to light?”
He snorted smoke. With fire in it.
“Light would be useful.”
“Candles provide light.”
“I don’t carry candles with me.”
“Poor planning.”
Bellusdeo seemed to find this amusing. “She’s missed your lessons,” she told Sanabalis. “Given the alternative, I’m certain at this point she would happily spend a month closeted in the West Room in the Halls of Law.” She then looked at the closed doors and frowned. “Shall I?”
Sanabalis didn’t find anything amusing. “It depends.”
“On?”
“The doors tend to raise an alarm that will wake whatever parts of the palace somehow managed to sleep through your first speech.”
“And one of those people will be Lannagaros?”
Kaylin shuddered—it was the cold. “It’ll certainly let him know I’m here. Unless he assumes it’s someone or something dangerous.”
“I see. Some warning might prove helpful.”
Cast in Wisdom Page 21
