Cast in Wisdom

by Michelle Sagara

  Ours or yours?

  Both. I also think there’s some possible danger in it for them. They’re not students here.

  And Killian is becoming more active.

  Yes. I’m not sure why, but...yes. He can hear me pretty clearly, but he attributes that to the books I’m carrying. Well, no, to the people the books appear to contain. But Killian’s suggestion that we open the library meshes with Terrano’s. I wish he could find a way in.

  “He will not find a way in until and unless the library is opened,” Killian said.

  Kaylin blinked; she was no longer seeing through Nightshade’s eyes.

  Have a care, Kaylin, Nightshade said. He was not, I think, fully aware of the cohort—but he will be now. They have not been granted permission to be here; they are as much intruders as the Barrani Arcanists and their friends. If Killian wakes fully—and I am uncertain, given the nature of this lecture, that that is even possible—they might well suffer the same consequences as those you care far less about.

  She had never had much luck hiding her thoughts from sentient buildings. Nightshade could, and did. Teela could.

  “If Terrano won’t find a way in, how did they?” she demanded. Nightshade allowed it, as Killian appeared to able to distinguish between them, even if they were sharing the same body.

  “I believe you already have the necessary answers.”

  “I don’t. If the missing Arbiter is anything like the two I’ve already met, he was in the library. How could someone enter the library if my friends can’t? They could enter—and leave—sentient buildings by the time we met.”

  “I am, I admit, uncertain. There is a possibility, a remote one, that the interim chancellor might have had methods of doing so that were emergency contingencies. I believe you made the attempt to return a book to my library; I was occupied and could not accept it at the time.”

  “And you can’t open the library yourself?”

  “No, Chosen. Not yet.”

  * * *

  “You believe,” Kavallac said, as if the entire conversation had been audible, “that Killian is like other buildings of your acquaintance.”

  “I did.”

  “The Academia was not like other such buildings. Killian is not the entirety of it, although he is its most certain steward. His ascension was not determined the way other such ascensions once were, and while all such ascensions were voluntary, the restrictions and responsibilities accepted at the outset defined them.

  “The nature of the Academia, the purpose with which it was built, the optimism on which it was founded—these were not what your Towers were built for, nor your Hallionne, nor even your Helen.”

  “What was the nature of the Academia?”

  “Ah, I believe I see your Dragons now.”

  Given the distance Kaylin had covered by foot—albeit slowly and carefully—she was surprised that it had taken so long to fly back. Which was probably a clue: this wasn’t actual flight in any fashion. She landed behind Bellusdeo—Bellusdeo turned instantly, her eyes a shade of orange that was almost red.

  Kaylin slid off Kavallac’s back; Bellusdeo’s eyes lost some of their orange as they met Kaylin’s gaze. “What,” the gold Dragon said, “have you done this time?”

  Arbiter Androsse appeared from behind Kavallac’s landing spot; it was easier to see him because Kavallac chose to transform into the more compact form. She was slightly taller than Bellusdeo, but had not adopted the natural armor that Bellusdeo had. Usually, in Kaylin’s reality, this would mean she was naked.

  She wasn’t. She wore loose robes, the same pale color as the rest of her; only her eyes now resembled the eyes of the two Dragons. The Arkon turned more slowly than Bellusdeo had.

  “Arkon,” Kaylin said quickly. “This is Arbiter Androsse. And this is Arbiter Kavallac.”

  Kavallac surprised her. She bowed, and the bow wasn’t a superficial display of good manners; there was genuine respect in it.

  Nor did the Arkon demand that she rise or put aside the frivolity of the manners Kaylin often thought were a waste of time. He waited, straightening his shoulders; his eyes were a complicated color, hard to see clearly in the dim light.

  “Arbiter Androsse,” he said. “Arbiter Kavallac.” When he spoke her name, she rose.

  “You have aged,” Kavallac then said. Kaylin was never going to understand manners.

  “I have,” he replied with the shadow of a smile. “You met me in a youth that is so distant even I can barely recall it.”

  “You did not remain here.”

  “No. Very, very few did. We were called away to war, and war was joined on many fronts. I am almost surprised to be recognized.”

  “The Chosen mentioned you by the name you once used. As she is not Draconic, I beg that you overlook this.”

  Kaylin flicked a glance in Bellusdeo’s direction. Bellusdeo, however, was a warrior queen in this place. Ice would not melt in her mouth.

  “I am familiar with Lord Kaylin and her antics,” the Arkon replied. “She has been of aid many times to my Flight, but she came late to etiquette; hers is predicated on survival.”

  “How comes she to know that name?”

  He then turned to Bellusdeo. “This is Bellusdeo; we were Aerie kin before her disappearance. She has only recently returned, and when we shared that Aerie I was not—and would never have dreamed of becoming—Arkon. Her early greetings were therefore far less formal.”

  “How come you to be in this space?” She already knew how; Kaylin had told her.

  “The Chosen opened a door for us. We are therefore intruders.”

  “Yes,” Kavallac replied. “But the chancellor has given no instructions and made no requests of us.”

  Kaylin was certain she’d said there was no chancellor, as well.

  “No. The chancellorship has not been decided. Someone, however, appears to be acting as interim chancellor—without the blessing of Killianas.”

  “Who?”

  The Arkon shook his head. “We do not know, Arbiter. It is, perhaps, to discover that that we have come. Has the Chosen spoken to you of the current condition of the Academia?”

  “Not at great length, or perhaps not in useful detail.” Kavallac’s smile was mostly teeth. “But there are less welcome intruders than you, and also, we appear to be missing Starrante.”

  Silence.

  * * *

  Robin and Terrano have been talking, Severn said.

  About anything that might be useful?

  Sedarias is, at a distance, attempting to keep them on topic. I’m not certain where she is.

  How’s that working out?

  It’s Terrano. Robin’s excited about the new class.

  Oh?

  Because it is a new class, a different lecture. He’s been experimenting. The day is otherwise, as Nightshade suggested, on repeat. Robin, however, finds the Academia interesting.

  He’s from the warrens.

  Yes.

  The warrens could have been the fiefs if the Hawks and the Swords were entirely removed from the area. Here, Robin had a bed of his own, a room of his own, and three meals. He was learning—somehow—to read and write. He’d been here for much longer than Nightshade, but was otherwise a recent arrival.

  At meals, Severn continued, the students have more freedom. Robin can finish lunch quickly or can linger until the dining hall is closed. If he finishes quickly, he can interact in a nonscripted way with other students. I believe one or two of those students have taken it upon themselves to teach him to read and write.

  How did he get here?

  Interestingly enough, he was escorted here by Candallar. Or rather, escorted to the building in the border zone by Candallar.

  You’re certain it was Candallar?

  Robin is certain it was Candallar. It is possible that someone els
e chose to use the fieflord’s name. Robin, like either of us at his age, would have obeyed an adult Barrani.

  And for the same reasons. How long does he have before he has to return to the classroom?

  Uncertain. In general, he cannot leave the classroom while there’s a lecture in session. But Killian has never lectured before. Why?

  The Arkon is glaring at me. “Sorry,” she said to the Arkon, and indirectly to Kavallac. “There’s a lot going on outside of here, and I’m trying to make sense of it.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Killian’s teaching a class, for one. I can speak with one of the students, and Killian can speak to me through that student. Terrano is talking to a different student, who asked permission for a bathroom break and was granted it. Terrano wants to know how flexible this repeating schedule is.

  “The important information: Candallar was the person responsible for the boy’s disappearance from the streets of Elantra. Candallar led him to the building in the border zone—the one with the eyeball in the back wall.”

  “You can speak with Killianas?” Androsse said.

  “Through an intermediary, yes.”

  “Does he know the location of Starrante?”

  “Not the exact location. Starrante doesn’t appear to be in the library, or if he is, he’s invisible to Killianas.”

  “That should not be possible. But...the Academia in this condition should not be possible, either. Tell me, what was the name of Candallar’s Tower?”

  Kaylin cringed, but inwardly. The naming conventions of the fiefs would not be useful information to the Arbiter, and the Arbiter expected useful information.

  “The name I believe you desire is the first name; much has changed in the time since the Towers themselves ascended. The Tower was, at its dawn, Karriamis.”

  Kavallac’s eyes began to glow. “He chose, then,” she said, so softly it was almost a whisper.

  “I was not present when the Towers rose,” the Arkon replied with genuine regret. “I had, by that point, been seconded to the war flights.”

  “You?” Kavallac said. Clearly, respect for his position only carried one so far.

  The Arkon took this in stride. “Without those duties—and the necessity of them—I would have been here to watch history unfold. The Ancients walked in concert, or so I was told. The Towers rose in a single day.” He shook his head, regret fading from his expression. “Karriamis is Candallar’s Tower; it is Candallar who commands the Tower.”

  “It was almost certainly Karriamis,” Androsse said, “who set his captain in search of Killianas.”

  “Karriamis has been a Tower for a long time—why now?”

  “I do not know the constraints by which the Towers were constructed; I did not personally know all of those who were chosen to become the heart of those buildings.”

  She turned to Kavallac. “You knew Karriamis.”

  “I did. We were kin, if distant.”

  Kaylin made a mental note never to visit Candallar with the cohort in tow. Or ever, really.

  “What would make Karriamis relay this information now? Instead of earlier or with a different fieflord?”

  “I am not a building, Chosen. I do not know. What we can assume—and it is an unverified assumption—is that he did communicate this, and Candallar chose to act on that communication. Perhaps he made the attempt centuries ago—who can say?”

  “Candallar.”

  Nightshade. As he gave wordless, motionless permission, Kaylin said—through his mouth, “You haven’t taught a class here since the rise of the Towers.”

  “That is true. I feel that I had little incentive if things were going smoothly.”

  “You’re teaching one now.”

  “Also demonstrably true.”

  “You’re more aware of your surroundings, of the Academia.”

  He nodded, his single eye almost flashing. She had the attention—well, Nightshade did—of the entire class, but in Kaylin’s admittedly limited experience, that was the norm when one asked questions.

  “Why?”

  “I have more engaged students,” he replied. “I have students who might learn something. They have questions, and some of those questions might lead them to answers that other students in our history have not achieved.”

  She frowned.

  “So...students are important?”

  “Students are the heart of the Academia.” Something about that answer stuck and echoed. “Students, scholars, sages. You are searching, perhaps, for something I lack. You will not find it.”

  “Were the students in the classes introduced to you recently?”

  “Some of the students in these classes have been introduced to the Academia over a period of decades, in your time. Some, however, never chose to leave; they are not all contained in this classroom.”

  “And some are here as students on an off-day?”

  “They have not been admitted into the current academic stream.”

  “By their choice or by yours?”

  He frowned; the frown had texture. It had a physical force that Kaylin should not have been able to feel—but did.

  “Admittance was not, in general, my responsibility,” he finally said. “I could, however, insist if I felt a student that had not shown promise in an obvious way, nonetheless had promise.”

  “And the current crop of students?”

  He frowned again.

  Before he could answer, Kaylin said, “Can you tell us where Candallar is?”

  “I am uncertain. Lord Candallar,” he continued with emphasis on the title Kaylin felt no need to respect, “has freedom of entry.”

  “How?”

  “It is a request received by...”

  This was the answer Kaylin wanted, but he stalled out, his eye narrowing, his forehead taking on lines of intense concentration. He failed to speak.

  Kaylin said, “Karriamis?”

  He lifted his face, his neck extending as his gaze sought the admittedly impressive ceiling. His face ran parallel to the ceiling; his neck bent in an angle that no one else in the room could achieve without breaking their spine. Without lowering his face, he said, “I cannot confirm that. I cannot find an answer. You will excuse me,” he added. “I have lost the thread of this lecture, and must continue it or the students will miss their next class.”

  * * *

  She blinked. The three intruders had not approached the Dragons. The Arbiters stood to either side of Kaylin, possibly because she carried the books. Turning to Kavallac, she said, “Can I give these books to the Arkon?”

  “You may give custody of these books to the Arkon,” Kavallac replied. “Where do you intend to go?”

  “I don’t intend to leave—but the Arkon has a far better chance of protecting the books if it comes to a fight.”

  The Arkon was already carrying the book that Larrantin had ordered Kaylin to convey to Killian. He accepted the weight of the two she added to that pile. As he did, both Kavallac and Androsse said, “Wait.”

  He stopped instantly, the books still in Kaylin’s hands.

  “What are you carrying?” It was Androsse, voice sharper, who spoke first. He wasn’t a Dragon, and the respect necessary for the Arkon wasn’t his concern.

  “A book,” Kaylin said before the Arkon could answer.

  “Yes, we can see that,” Androsse snapped, never taking his eyes from the Arkon.

  “Can you?” the Arkon asked. “The only person present who sees a book when they look at this is the Chosen.”

  Androsse turned immediately to Kaylin, who stopped herself from shrugging. “I see a book. I saw a book when Larrantin handed it to me. The book has a rune on its cover. It’s similar to yours.”

  Both of the Arbiters exchanged a glance. This time, when the silence was broken, it was broken by Arbiter Kava
llac. “Tell me, Arkon, do you see what the Chosen carries as books?”

  “The two, yes.”

  “You said Larrantin had what you currently carry in his possession?”

  Kaylin nodded.

  “...And it does not look like a book to anyone but you.”

  She nodded again.

  “That is very unfortunate. If we are not mistaken—” and her voice allowed no probability that they were “—that is Starrante’s summons.”

  Chapter 24

  “I don’t understand,” Kaylin said.

  “Chosen, this book was in Larrantin’s possession?”

  She nodded.

  “How did he come by it?”

  “It didn’t occur to me to ask him,” she replied, which was the truth. In her experience with people like Androsse, truth was irrelevant when what he wanted was specific information. He proved true to type.

  “It did not occur to you to ask him why this book was in his possession and not within the library that is its natural environment?”

  “I knew nothing of Arbiters or summons. It was a book, to my eye, with a single word emblazoned on its cover. I thought if I delivered it—as requested—to Killian, it would have some effect on him. A positive effect,” she added, in case this wasn’t clear.

  “Larrantin should not have been able to remove it.”

  “It’s possible that he didn’t. He might have recognized it for what it was—but I think it’s now clear that Starrante is not in the library.”

  “We have no simple way of opening the library without his presence.”

  “Is there a complicated way?”

  “Demonstrably.” Androsse’s eyes were midnight blue, which added color to his otherwise ghostly countenance. Kaylin wasn’t particularly surprised to see that Kavallac’s eyes were dark crimson, either.

  “Could Killian find Starrante?”

  “I believe you made clear he could not. If something has changed in the interim, it would be to our benefit.” She heard echoes of other words as he spoke. They were worried for Starrante.

  Kaylin exhaled. “Can you let us out of the library without fully opening it? And can you do so without injuring yourselves?”