“We are not certain, Chosen.”
Hope sighed. He then began to squawk loudly in her ear. Since she couldn’t understand a word he spoke, she assumed this was meant for the Arkon or the Arbiters.
“Yes,” Kavallac finally said, clearly in response to Hope. “If there were a chancellor, the chancellor could open the library. But if a chancellor existed, Killian would not now be in the state he is in.”
“Killian could open the library?”
“That is not how Killian was built,” Androsse said.
I think, Severn then broke in, that we know where the chancellor’s office is. Does he have more than one?
Kaylin conveyed the question.
“No, Chosen. There is one office of the chancellor. It has multiple rooms, some meant for public interaction, some for private, but it is the chancellor’s home within the Academia.”
Robin?
He’s apparently skipped a lot of meals before getting dragged back into his classes.
I thought he was learning to read.
He’s a bright kid; he’s done that. And he’s not bad with High Barrani, either. It’s Terrano’s conjecture, Severn added, that the students—the missing people—were brought for the purpose of making Killian minimally functional. Apparently, the Academia requires students.
Kaylin nodded. That was my thought, as well. But...
The Arkon?
She nodded. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Killian’s become sharper and more focused in his interactions since the Arkon set foot in the Academia. I think the presence of the Arbiters also helps.
Can you get to us?
I’m not sure. We still have intruders in the library, but they haven’t advanced to where—Never mind.
In the darkness of shelves, made brighter by the presence of the Arkon’s magic, Kaylin could see movement in the shallows of the light.
* * *
“We have company,” she said, voice barely audible.
“I cannot see the intruders. Bellusdeo?”
“No.”
Kaylin turned to the Arbiters then.
“Yes, Chosen,” Androsse said, his voice less quiet. “We can see the intruders. We could sense them when they were not immediately visible. Were they wise, this is not the place at which they would choose to mount an attack.”
Kavallac smiled. The smile had teeth in it, and those teeth grew larger and longer. So did the mouth that contained them, elongating as she once again chose to adopt the Draconic form. There was a glow to her scales; she was silver—silver and white—except for the inside of her mouth and the deep, deep red of her eyes.
Kaylin turned to Hope. “Protect the Arkon and Bellusdeo.”
Do not engage them.
“I’m not trying to engage them.”
There is a risk to the library. There is a risk to the structure it currently maintains. Killian is not Helen, but there are rules that govern the sentient buildings, and Killian’s rules are complex. The library is meant to house not books, but knowledge. The accrued knowledge of the ages. Theories that have been disproved. Theories that have not. Stories and legends that bear no resemblance to their progeny, the stories you heard on the streets.
There is art here that only certain eyes can see; poetry that once moved the people of races that have vanished. And there is history that has long been lost to your people. All of your peoples.
“We’re not going to destroy that.”
You cannot control the flow of the battle.
“No,” Kavallac said, making clear that she could understand the words that Hope now spoke to Kaylin. “She cannot. But we are Arbiters, and this is the ground upon which we are at our most powerful if we are not a triad. We will control the flow of battle; it is the reason for our existence.” Her grin was a baring of teeth. “It is us that they are likely searching for, and we are grateful that you found us first. You will not fall here.”
“We don’t know how they found Starrante—but they clearly did, and they’ve somehow—”
“We will find out.”
“The library—”
“Stay with the Arkon,” Kavallac said, her voice a rumble of thunder.
* * *
“If she means,” the Arkon said quietly, as Androsse and Kavallac advanced toward the intruders the two normal Dragons couldn’t see, “protect the Arkon, I am inclined to take offense.”
Bellusdeo chuckled.
“Maybe she means protect the books,” Kaylin offered.
The Arkon turned a baleful glare in her direction.
Robin is now leading us to the chancellor’s office while he still has the flexibility in his schedule.
How long will that last?
As long as the professor is not inclined to be annoyed by his bathroom break.
Good. If we can figure out how to get out of here before you reach the chancellor’s office, we’ll try to join you.
Severn didn’t like the odds. The good thing about communication via True Names? Volume wasn’t necessary to be heard. Or to hear. Kavallac’s roar would have drowned out normal speech. The chancellor’s office seems to hold a specific weight and meaning within the greater Academia. If there is a ringleader to be found, they are likely to be found there—and they have demonstrated a much clearer understanding of the Academia than we currently possess.
You have a Dragon with you.
You have two—or three, if you include the Arbiter. On any other field, the three Barrani would refuse to engage. They are not refusing now; they must believe they have the power or the knowledge to survive three Dragons.
The floor shook beneath Kaylin’s feet. Hope squawked, but she ignored it because squawks weren’t meant for her, and she was juggling too many conversations as it was.
Light washed over the library in a wave. The heights of darkened shelves, made invisible by heavy shadow, appeared to go on for as far as the eye could see, or the feet could walk. Above their heads, behind their backs, and ahead of where they stood, the breadth and depth of a singular collection were instantly made manifest.
The Arkon spit out three sharp words; Kaylin felt a full-body slap as he adjusted what she presumed were his protections. It was clear that what Kaylin could see with Hope’s wing, the two Dragons by her side could now also see.
“Well met,” Kavallac said as the three intruders froze in place. “Welcome to the library over which we are custodial guardians.”
Two of the intruders remained frozen, words deserting them. One, however, did not. At this distance, Kaylin couldn’t see the color of his eyes, but assumed they were blue; his lips, however, turned up in what might be misclassified as a smile.
“You must be Arbiters Kavallac and Androsse,” he said, tendering them a brief bow. “We have been searching for you.”
“I’m sure,” Kavallac replied, “you have.”
“We have the requisite permissions required to traverse this domain.”
“Granted by whom?”
“By Arbiter Starrante. He was concerned for your welfare; this building is not what it once was, and he could not be certain that you were not injured or damaged. He will be pleased to note that you are well.”
This was not entirely what Kavallac expected—but that was fair. It wasn’t what Kaylin had expected, either.
“If you would accompany us, you might speak with him yourselves.”
“Perhaps,” Androsse said, entering the conversation, “you might bring him here. It is neither our place nor our desire to leave the library; the library is the heart of the Academia.”
“I’m afraid that will not be possible.”
“Oh?”
“I see that you are both materially whole. Starrante is not, and he cannot be easily moved.”
* * *
The silence took a turn fo
r the chilly. Kaylin turned to the Arkon. “Give me Starrante’s book.” To his credit, he didn’t hesitate.
It was, as it had been every other time she had touched it, cold. She wondered if the Arkon himself felt the ice of it. She turned it in her hands until she could see the rune emblazoned on its cover. The rune that the Arkon couldn’t see.
Killian had not taken the book. The Arkon had carried it; Killian had implied that the message might be delivered at a better, or different, time. But Larrantin could touch it; Larrantin could carry it. Larrantin had meant for Kaylin to deliver it to Killian.
Killian, however, had not seemed interested in receiving it, perhaps because he didn’t recognize it? It had been Kaylin’s belief that Larrantin had given her the book because she was the only person present he could see—and the only person present who could see him.
She revised that now. He had given it to her because she was Chosen. And because he understood what the book represented. Starrante had been removed from the library.
She turned her thoughts to Nightshade as she looked at the book in her hands. Ask Killian, she began.
Ask him yourself.
Fine. “Can the interim chancellor grant access to the library?”
“Indeed. The interim chancellor has most of the powers granted to the chancellor himself, when someone is willing to take on the burden of that role.”
“Most?”
“Most. There are some permissions that cannot be granted to someone who does not serve fully.”
“Are there qualifications to be interim chancellor?”
“Yes. They are the regalia of the office; the external trappings.”
“And they’d be found in the office itself?”
“Yes.”
“Can they be removed?”
“Not easily. But if the Arbiter has been removed, it is possible the regalia has likewise been relocated. Location is not of relevance, but the regalia is required for rudimentary control of the Academia.”
“And that rudimentary control includes control of you?”
“Some elements, yes. But I am, as you guess, far more awake than I was when Karriamis’s Lord first contacted me. The interim chancellor has provided a very modest student body. The Arbiters Kavallac and Androsse have been awakened, and they are whole: I can hear their voices.
“They are not...pleased,” he added softly. “Regardless, Starrante is not visible to me. I would suggest that he is not within the remit of my current existence.”
“You think he’s outside the Academia?”
“I believe he is in what you would call the border zone.”
“But...”
“Yes?” This was a sharper word; it implied annoyance at the continued interruption.
“You’re in the border zone.”
“I would suggest, instead of plaguing the class with questions that do not pertain to the subject I am attempting to teach, that self-study might be of value.”
* * *
Her attention was caught by a plume of white-gold, which also happened to be fire. The Arkon stiffened, his eyes red; his arms tightened around the two books over which he’d kept stewardship. But he didn’t—although this took visible effort—shout commands of any kind at the Arbiters. He had chosen to trust them. They were guardians of this library. Their fire would not harm it.
Belief, however, was a struggle.
Only when the fire splashed to either side of the spokesman did he relax; the fire didn’t harm the books at all.
“I think they pulled us into whatever phase the intruders are in,” Kaylin helpfully offered. “And I’m not sure they can harm the library itself in that phase.”
Clearly condescension of any kind was only acceptable when it was coming from the Arkon, given his expression—and Kaylin had intended no condescension whatsoever. “You asked for that book for a reason. I suggest you see to it.”
* * *
The rune was bright; it looked like the words on Kaylin’s arms—and probably the rest of her body, as well. But its color was not quite the same gold, and it seemed, as she looked at it, to be carved into the cover, rather than engraved or painted on it.
She frowned. The marks on her arms had shifted color until they were the same as the word she now thought of as Starrante’s. Not his name—never that—but the word that might wake him, invoke him, summon him. She touched the surface of the rune on the book’s cover.
As she did, the marks on her arms began to lift themselves off her skin. She was now aware that this was a visual signal that only she could see; she’d never worried about it because the lifting didn’t shred her shirts or tunics. Or pants, if it came to that.
The surface of the word wasn’t flush with the cover; it was farther down or in. She had to reach to contact the word, and her fingers dipped below the surface. Her hand did, as well.
The Arkon’s silence was loud. His attention was torn between the literal fight that was now occurring between three Barrani and the two Arbiters, one a very loud Dragon, one a silent...something else, and Kaylin’s handling of the object he had never seen as a book.
Had he, he might never have surrendered it.
When her hand dipped beneath the outer surface of the cover, he cleared his throat. Given Kavallac’s roars, she shouldn’t have heard it.
“I’m trying to reach the word on the cover. It’s there, visually—but it’s not there physically. And it seems to have taken the actual physical dimensions of the book cover with it wherever it is. I promise I’m not damaging a book.”
“You had better not be,” he growled.
“Lannagaros, honestly.”
“I mean it.”
Kaylin grimaced but didn’t respond; there was nothing she could say. The word—Starrante’s word—seemed to be attempting to evade her.
* * *
I’m not sure what the Arbiters have done, Severn said, but Terrano believes he can locate you now.
Tell him to stay where he is.
Severn didn’t bother with a verbal reply, but Kaylin understood. Telling Terrano to stay where he was was a waste of breath. Helen could manage to both say it and enforce it. Maybe. No one else stood a chance.
I mean it—if Robin manages to get you to the chancellor’s office, Terrano’s the one most likely to be able to ignore inconvenient things—like, say, doors or walls. If he needs to go on a seek-and-find mission, he should be looking for Candallar. I’m willing to bet Candallar is the interim chancellor, and it’s Candallar who holds whatever diminished keys are necessary to open Killian’s figurative locked doors.
Terrano doesn’t like it; Sedarias agrees with you. She also points out that she’s not sure how long we’ll have Robin, so the office comes first.
Kaylin nodded. Sedarias was the person she’d send to find Candallar—Sedarias or Bellusdeo. The latter, however, was here and likely to remain here in the immediate future.
A geyser of purple flame interrupted that thought, given its location: beneath Kaylin’s feet. The Arkon’s protections buckled for a moment, but didn’t break. Bellusdeo headed toward the visible fight.
The Arkon didn’t stop her; he didn’t even try. “Corporal?”
She shook her head. The book itself obviously occupied dimensions quite different from its physical shape. She thought she could climb into Starrante’s rune—if she was conveniently sized and shaped in a way that would fit through the window made of lines—and still be no closer to actually touching it.
A thought came to her then, and she turned—as she had done before and would no doubt do in the future—to the Arkon, the ancient Dragon whose life had been given to the gaining of knowledge.
He seemed to be waiting, as irritable as he often was when interrupted. His eyes were a deep orange, the inner membrane raised to slightly mute the color.
“I can�
��t touch the word on this book.”
He nodded; he’d seen the attempt.
“I can see the shape of it—but the shape is now a series of holes or windows. I can’t pull the word from it. And I’m pretty sure I don’t have that word just hanging around the rest of the marks on my skin.”
“I cannot see a word,” the Arkon replied. “I could not see a book. I can make assumptions on what I should see based on the two books belonging to the Arbiters, but those assumptions will not grant you the insight you desire.”
“Should I try to...speak this word?”
“In some fashion, I believe that is what you were trying to do.”
“No—I was only trying to touch it.”
His eyes narrowed; his face shifted into a familiar expression. She’d just seen it on Killian’s face. “You have had little experience with the speaking of these words, but if your assumptions are correct, you have had more experience than most of the Barrani—and mortals—assembled here. What they did did not invoke that word.”
“That’s not what I’m afraid of.”
“You are afraid that they have somehow managed to siphon the power of that word?”
She nodded. “Killian can now locate the other two Arbiters. He still can’t locate Starrante, but...he’s aware of his presence. Peripherally. Not in a way that would be useful to us. If he were truly awake, I don’t think we’d have any problem finding Starrante.”
“Then speak the word, Chosen.”
“Could I just—I don’t know, give it a different word?”
Orange tilted toward red.
“Or not.”
“It is not a name as you perceive True Names,” the Arkon then said, relenting. “It is a word. Starrante did not require a True Name to become an Arbiter. He came with the True Names he required, as did Kavallac and Androsse.”
“But the words on their books aren’t the same.”
“As each other’s?”
Kaylin nodded.
Cast in Wisdom Page 38
