Cast in Wisdom

by Michelle Sagara

  “You are aware of the Arcanist Lord Kaylin could see.”

  “I have heard of him, yes.”

  “Very well. I must congratulate you.”

  “Oh?”

  “For taking your place at Court.”

  Her smile was almost feline. And as Kaylin had worked with Marcus for all of her life in the Hawks, feline had a distinct meaning that was not pleasant. The Arkon didn’t seem to mind Sedarias as much as he minded Severn. But he didn’t ask Helen if he could use her mirror—in the secure room—either.

  * * *

  Kaylin had the book bundled up in a small blanket—the kind of blanket meant for big chairs, not beds. Caitlin called them throws, for some reason. It helped, but she knew it wouldn’t make as much difference an hour from now. The book radiated cold, and it ate heat and warmth.

  It hadn’t been nearly as bad when she’d been at home.

  Helen, she thought. And Helen had said nothing; she had just gone about, as she always did, making home safe. Or as safe as it could be, all things considered.

  Sedarias was armed. Annarion was armed. Bellusdeo was armored; she had given up on Imperial clothing entirely for the duration of this investigation. The Arkon and Emmerian had not. But they were comfortable with the Emperor’s rules. Watching the fussy old librarian stride down the streets, Kaylin still couldn’t see him as an outstanding, even legendary, warrior.

  But the rest of Emmerian’s words made her uneasy. If the Arkon was irritable—and he was, if your name was Kaylin—he was also steady. Solid. Predictable. He was indulgent of Bellusdeo because he understood both where she had come from, and what she had lost to return.

  This version of the Arkon was a stranger to Kaylin. She wanted the old one back. And maybe if they could sort this out somehow, that would happen. But she didn’t understand his hoard. She had assumed that it meant touch this and die, because that, at least, seemed true across all Dragons. What was his hoard, if not the things the library contained that were strictly off-limits?

  If the library was his hoard, why was it open to the public at all?

  “You’re thinking,” Bellusdeo said, falling in step beside her. They weren’t patrolling, in part because the Arkon’s pace didn’t allow it.

  “Are my ears smoking?”

  The Dragon smiled. “A bit. We will enter Tiamaris, I believe, and attempt to retrace our path to the Academia. Lannagaros believes that it will be far less of a meandering walk than it was for us.”

  “Because of the book?”

  “Because of that, yes. He would like to attempt an entry from Farlonne.”

  “It wasn’t near Farlonne.”

  “Yes. We did point this out, but I believe he has theories he has not shared. Today, however, he is less interested in experimentation and more in locating the building he believes existed in his youth.”

  Kaylin lowered her voice. “What do you think will happen?”

  “Let me remind you,” the Arkon said, although he hadn’t paused or turned back, “that I can hear every word you say. A whisper does not, in fact, render your words private.”

  Bellusdeo snickered.

  Kaylin rolled her eyes. His hearing was, of course, Draconic—but he didn’t have eyes in the back of his head.

  Hope was draped across her shoulders, looking distinctly dissatisfied with life. There was no danger in Tiamaris. There was, however, a patrol—one that consisted of the fieflord and the Avatar of his Tower, plus two guards. Kaylin recognized one of them.

  That guard stepped out from behind the fieflord when the Dragons started bowing at each other.

  “What,” Morse said in her normal voice, which was always lower, “are you guys doing?”

  “Escorting a Dragon.”

  Morse’s eyes narrowed. “We got thrown into the streets via a large hole in the wall. The one he usually takes when he’s an actual Dragon. Apparently, one of your Dragons caused him alarm.”

  “Concern,” Kaylin said. The Dragons had finished with the bowing bits and had entered the discussion phase. Luckily, they were speaking in Barrani, not their native tongue. “The old Dragon—well, the one that looks oldest—over there? He does leave his rooms in the palace, but not bloody often, and never just to visit. Almost never,” she added, to be fair. “Tiamaris was his student.”

  “And he’s worried?”

  “Well, offhand I can think of a few times that the Arkon has left the palace. The time before last it was because the High Halls were on fire, and the entire Dragon Court had taken to the skies to defend it.”

  “...So if he’s here there’s likely to be fire.”

  “That’s probably Tiamaris’s concern, yes.” She hesitated. “Did you hear that Tiamaris wants to let Hawks patrol his fief?”

  Morse rolled her eyes. “Yes. Don’t look at me like that. I don’t care about the Hawks.”

  “I’m a Hawk.”

  “Repeat my words.” There was the hint of a grin on Morse’s face. “Personally, I hate the idea.”

  Trying not to bristle, Kaylin said, “Why?”

  “Because he expects me to be the liaison. And I’d just as soon punch things or kill things as talk to them.”

  Kaylin laughed, partly because it was true. “It’d be less work for you.”

  “Not punching or killing things will take all of my self-control. I won’t have time to deal with Hawks. Looks like they’re done.”

  Kaylin, looking at the Arkon, lifted one hand—the free hand—to her ear. Morse, who had been watching Kaylin, instantly lifted both of hers.

  The Arkon let loose a volley of Dragon that would terrify any fiefling who could hear it—which would probably be anyone who lived in Tiamaris.

  Bellusdeo rolled her eyes; Emmerian did not seem to either hear the Arkon’s words or be concerned by them. Tiamaris, Lord of the fief, roared right back.

  “Or not,” Morse shouted—into Kaylin’s uncovered ear.

  Chapter 16

  Sedarias, of the gathered company, was the only person present whose eyes had descended into a dark, dark blue as the Dragons spoke. Annarion’s expression was smooth, polished, and implied the resignation, beat for beat, that Emmerian’s contained. Sedarias, not so much.

  Apparently, the ability to see and hear the entirety of Mandoran’s and Annarion’s lives from the remove of the West March didn’t compensate for actual, lived experience. She was rigid as Tiamaris and the Arkon continued the thunder of what appeared to be an actual argument.

  Here, Tiamaris held sway. It was his fief.

  Kaylin glanced at Tara’s Avatar; the Tower, like the other two Dragons, look resigned. Resigned and compassionate. As if Kaylin’s glance was a question, Tara moved away from Tiamaris toward Kaylin. He didn’t appear to notice. As she reached Kaylin, she offered the Hawk a hug, her clothing transforming, as she did, from the meet-with-dignitaries dress and robes into the more beloved gardening smock.

  “My Lord is worried,” she said. Unlike Morse, it wasn’t necessary for Tara to shout. Not even here, near the border of the fief over which her Tower ruled.

  “Can you tell me why?”

  Before Tara could answer, Kaylin added, “Emmerian and Bellusdeo are worried, too. The only time I’ve really seen Bellusdeo worry, it involved Shadow. This...doesn’t.”

  “I am not sure I understand it myself. It has something to do with Dragons and hoards. But...you’ve seen a Dragon stake his hoard claim. You were standing right beside him. Did he appear to be dangerously unstable to you?”

  “He’s a Dragon.”

  “Does that make a difference? I agree that the form is, for a small period, unstable and appears malleable when the Dragons choose to shift—”

  Kaylin had, momentarily, forgotten the Tower’s sense of humor. Or lack of one. “I don’t think I had the time to notice. You might remember th
at there were Shadows who were attempting to rewrite your words in the heart of the Tower space.”

  “Ah, yes. Apologies.” Tara smiled. “I remember it as the darkness before the dawn. That’s figurative,” she added. “Or perhaps metaphorical. My Lord feels that the Arkon is dangerously unstable at the moment, and is telling him so.”

  Great. They were going to be here all day.

  “What do you think?” Kaylin asked.

  “He appears, to me, to be as he was the first time he visited the fief, except in one regard.”

  “And that is?”

  “The first time, he was happy to see Bellusdeo. It meant much to him. It was hope. It was...” Tara frowned. “Sadness. I am not certain I should be answering this question.” Her hesitation was marked, and it reminded Kaylin a bit of Helen—but Helen wouldn’t have answered. “I think he has been sad for as long as you’ve known him. Perhaps for as long as Emmerian has known him. Bellusdeo comes from a period of his life where loss had not informed him so thoroughly.”

  “He’s not sad now?”

  “It is sharper, harsher. I cannot easily describe the difference. But he is...desperate with hope, Kaylin. My Lord attempts to cushion that hope, to explain reality. The Arkon is unwilling to let it go. Hope can break people when it is dashed.”

  Kaylin nodded, then exhaled. “I think you should tell your Lord that there’s no point. Either hope will be dashed, or it won’t. Oh, unless you have information about Candallar and his visitors and their possible whereabouts. Because I think those could be a serious problem.”

  “My Lord reminds you,” Tara said, although Tiamaris was still entangled in his discussion, “that the desire for a hoard—when the hoard is unobtainable—can drive Dragons beyond the edge of sanity. It is both purpose and obsession. He believes you have seen murders caused, by mortals, who were so obsessed, and he invites you to consider what a Dragon might be like in the same state of mind.”

  That was not a happy thought. “Bellusdeo and Emmerian seem resigned to it.”

  Tara nodded.

  “And if what you’re saying is true, getting in the way of that Dragon might be the thing that sets him off.”

  “The Arkon is important to Tiamaris.”

  “All of the Dragons are.”

  She nodded again, hugged Kaylin, and returned to Tiamaris’s side. No one heard what she said to Tiamaris, but Tiamaris’s flood of words banked abruptly. His eyes were a deep orange; from a distance, they might be red. But it was not the bloodred that signaled imminent death.

  The Arkon’s eyes were less immediately visible to Kaylin, but while his breath was a steady stream of smoke, he seemed content to stop speaking.

  “My Lord bids me tell you,” Tara said to Kaylin, while standing beside said Lord, “that none of the visitors you fear entered the border zone through Tiamaris.”

  “I wish we could speak with the other fieflords the same way.”

  “So does he; he is beginning to consider it a necessity. Come back to the Tower when you are done with your exploration; there are a few things he wishes to discuss.”

  * * *

  The border zone was the border zone; Tiamaris and Tara, with Morse in tow, accompanied them to that point, but Tara now walked beside the Arkon. Tiamaris fell in beside Kaylin, glancing at Severn as if for permission. Which was annoying.

  Hope squawked.

  “We cannot lose him,” Tiamaris told Kaylin, the words both unexpected and abrupt. She knew where this was going. “I task you with keeping him safe.”

  “We’ve got two Barrani and two Dragons here. And you’re telling me to keep him safe?”

  He smiled. “Yes, actually. You are, I am constantly reminded, Chosen.”

  “Might as well tell me to worry about Teela,” she replied.

  “I don’t require you to fuss or worry at him. I merely require you to bring him back.”

  “I thought Sanabalis was your teacher. Your former teacher.”

  “He was and is. But what he learned, he learned from the Arkon. The Arkon values things lost, things dead, things ancient. He believes that they have things to teach us if we can but learn. He is important to the Emperor.”

  “He’s important to Bellusdeo, too—and she lives with me.”

  Tiamaris lifted his chin, frowning. “This is where we leave you.”

  The Arkon turned from Tara, and from what appeared to be an animated discussion, the corners of his lips heading in the wrong direction as he met Tiamaris’s steady gaze. But he offered Tara a deep bow—certainly a deeper bow than any of the Dragons ever got from him.

  Sedarias and Annarion had pulled up the rear—the far rear. They now closed the gap, and it was Sedarias who entered the border zone first.

  “Be wary of Sedarias,” Tara said quietly. “Her intentions are not bad, but her thoughts turn, always, toward the bad intentions of others. She is likely to react first, and then think.”

  Kaylin, however, shook her head. “Where we’re going, her form of thought might save our lives.”

  The Arkon snorted.

  * * *

  The Arkon’s suspicion—that the book Kaylin carried would make the finding of Killian less time-consuming—was proved right. They spent far less time crawling over fences and through backyards searching for a street that ran in the right direction.

  This was good, because without Teela’s vision to borrow, Annarion and Sedarias were stuck in a thick fog that made their companions almost invisible if they weren’t standing practically on top of them. Annarion was willing to be grabbed by the arm and dragged along streets Kaylin could see; Sedarias was Sedarias. She strode ahead into the fog as if it couldn’t disgorge anything that was a threat.

  “She can hear your voices,” Annarion said. “She’s following those.” He grimaced and added, “And cursing Teela.”

  “Teela would have come, but she likes her job.”

  “So we’ve been told. We’ve yet to ascertain why, on the other hand. It’s not so bad today. The fog. I think it’s already thinning.”

  Annarion was the first to spot the signpost. “This is where we were,” he told the gathered companions. “This is the signpost that leads into the circular road.”

  The Arkon could see what the other two Dragons could see, which was pretty much consistent with the two Hawks. He did, however, stop at the signpost that Annarion had picked out of the thinning fog that dogged the cohort. He looked up; he could read the words. He then looked down the street in the wrong direction, almost as if looking in the right one was something that he needed to brace himself to do.

  But when he did turn, his eyes were gold, and they were lit from within by a fire that had nothing to do with combat. For just that glimpse, the Arkon seemed young to Kaylin. Young, excitable, caught in a frenzy of fear and hope. This wasn’t Kaylin’s youth, but she recognized it, and for the first time since she had discovered Killian, she understood why Bellusdeo and Emmerian were worried.

  The two Dragons said nothing; they turned in the direction the Arkon had finally turned, and they waited while he drew breath. Kaylin, however, grabbed his arm as he opened his mouth that little bit too wide. “Remember, Killian’s occupied, in both senses of that word.”

  Reality readjusted itself in the lines of the Arkon’s face as joy ebbed. Kaylin wasn’t certain she liked what replaced it. He nodded.

  * * *

  Sedarias did not recognize the street. But she’d heard of the building, or buildings, that comprised this place. She didn’t walk with the same excitement, the same urgency, that drove the Arkon—but no one here could do that.

  “Has it changed?” Kaylin asked the oldest member of the Dragon Court.

  “It is...what I remember. The color is wrong—but I have been told that the border zones are like that: the buildings that remain are echoes of buildings, the streets, ech
oes of streets.”

  “That’s Killian,” Kaylin said, lifting her arm and pointing out the largest of the buildings, on the farthest edge of the circular road’s circumference from where they were standing.

  “I do not understand why you use that name.”

  “It’s what he said his name was.”

  “Mortal hearing is not that bad.”

  “That’s what he said, right?” Kaylin turned to Bellusdeo.

  “Kaylin is correct.”

  The Arkon seemed disinclined to accept Bellusdeo’s opinion. “Corporal?”

  “It is also what I heard.” As he so often did, Severn chose to speak in Barrani when speaking with the Dragons.

  “He is in need of intervention.”

  Hope sat up, shifting position in one fluid motion that involved more than the usual amount of exposed claw digging into Kaylin’s collarbone.

  All of her companions fell instantly silent as Hope raised a wing to cover Kaylin’s eyes.

  * * *

  “We need to get out of the street,” Kaylin said, her voice low, the words urgent. “Come on. We need to move now.”

  No one argued—not even Sedarias. “Which building is likely to be real?”

  “That one. The one closest to us.” It was the building she thought of as Larrantin’s, although when—and if—it had been a normal building, it had been occupied by far more people than a single Barrani.

  They moved quickly, and only when they reached—and opened—the doors did the Arkon speak. His words clashed with Sedarias’s, but the Barrani High Lord immediately gave way.

  “What did you see?”

  “People,” Kaylin said. “Invisible people. Until Hope lifted his wing, I saw an empty, flat circle of grass with a bunch of trees on it.”

  “Were any of these people the two you saw behind Killianas?”

  “I didn’t take the time to really look. I can go back out in a bit—but I’m fairly certain we were spotted. We’re not exactly being stealthy; we didn’t approach using the buildings for cover.” She wanted to strangle Terrano because she was almost certain that whatever it was that allowed these people to be here in this form was directly or indirectly his fault.