“There are risks inherent in the creation of such doors. You were not alive when Ravellon fell, and your history is perhaps incomplete.”
“It is deplorable,” Androsse interjected. People with power seldom had to learn good manners, or at least seldom felt the need to practice them.
“As I said, it is incomplete. We were architects of some of the doors that lead on to other worlds, other planes of existence. And it is through our architecture, in the end, that the Shadow spread to those worlds. Bellusdeo has spoken to us at length of the fate of her own world and her people.
“Were I to begin to recreate what was lost, the door itself would be vulnerable in the same way. It is a risk that we—the Arbiters—are not comfortable taking. Yes, it would provide knowledge and information, but it is incumbent upon teachers—and librarians—to assess when that knowledge is profoundly dangerous. We cannot put our students, or the Academia, at risk.
“Before you ask,” he continued, when Kaylin opened her mouth, “it is also the will of the chancellor. He has mentioned the Arcanum, an august body of people who have, for their own purposes, taken risks that might well have destroyed this world. I believe you are familiar with the Arcanum.”
Kaylin’s newly acquired manners prevented her from spitting. That, and the certain sense that spitting in the library would probably be a capital crime. “Yes.”
“Even were I to be familiar with Karriamis in the fashion that Candallar was before his death, I would not attempt to create a door between Karriamis and the Academia. I doubt that Karriamis would accept the attempted research. What we do in desperation and for survival is not what we should do when we have the time to reflect.”
Severn nodded.
It was Kaylin who said, “Bellusdeo isn’t the only person who wants to captain the Tower.”
“No.”
* * *
Killian was waiting for them when they left the library; it was almost dinnertime in the great hall, and having been given permission to eat there, Kaylin intended to do so.
“I will take you to the hall,” Killian said, his Avatar materializing out of thin air. “I have always found that phrase interesting. Why is air described as thin?”
“You’ve asked other students this question before.”
“I have asked very few; thin air is, when used in Barrani, an adopted concept. Answers to questions of this nature are very individual, and interesting in and of themselves, both for the similarity to other answers, and the differences. This way, please.”
“Will the chancellor be at dinner?”
“Yes. So will the teachers. It is only at dinner that attendance is mandatory.”
“For the chancellor?”
“Yes. It is otherwise considered mandatory for the students. Larrantin, in particular, feels that hungry students are artificially stupid students.”
“Are there classes after dinner?”
“No; after dinner there are study periods, in which students attempt to work with and better understand the lessons of the day. We have a much smaller student body at the moment than we had the last time you visited—but the student body is now active and interested. The Academia is a type of freedom, rather than an inescapable cage—as it should be.”
* * *
Kaylin was not surprised to see that the chancellor was not the only Dragon in attendance in the dining hall. Bellusdeo was also present. She sat beside the former Arkon at a long table that was elevated on a dais. Kaylin grimaced when she caught sight of the gold Dragon; it would have been impossible to miss her. Instead of the Imperial clothing she generally disdained, she was wearing Dragon armor, which apparently magically folded in the middle to allow her to sit.
Maggaron was beside her; he towered over the rest of the table, although his shoulders were slumped in a way that implied he was trying to minimize the difference in height.
Kaylin and Severn weren’t offered a seat at the high table. If, in a distant childhood, she might have resented this as an obvious slight, no resentment followed. She’d learned that being important in specific ways often came with burdens that she was certain she couldn’t carry. She couldn’t captain a Tower. She couldn’t be chancellor. She certainly couldn’t carry the weight of an Empire; the thought that her decisions could cause the deaths of hundreds left her feeling queasy.
She gratefully avoided the scrutiny that Bellusdeo now endured.
“Hey!” Glancing in the direction of the voice, she saw Robin frantically waving an arm. He was seated between two Barrani, and as they turned, she saw Serralyn and Valliant. Serralyn’s eyes were still unnaturally green; Valliant’s were the usual green-blue that meant Barrani happiness.
“I have permission to eat dinner here,” Kaylin said, as she made a place for herself on the long student bench.
“You’re not dressed for it.”
“No—but I wasn’t told there was a dress code. I’m not a student; I think the chancellor would cut off both his hands—or both of mine—before he accepted me into the Academia.”
Serralyn laughed. Valliant smiled.
“How’s the first day been?”
“Perfect,” Serralyn replied. She wasn’t—or hadn’t been—the most voluble of speakers when she had been a guest in Kaylin’s home. “The only bad thing so far is that I haven’t been allowed to visit the library.”
“No?”
She shook her head. “There’s a period of three months in which we have to do well enough to prove that we deserve the privilege. You were in the library today.”
“We came from there.”
“And Bellusdeo visits it.”
Kaylin nodded again. “Neither of us are ever going to be students, though. We’re visitors. If we have anything to prove, we proved it on our last visit.”
“I’m not allowed to visit the library,” Robin said cheerfully.
“But you’ve already seen it,” Serralyn pointed out.
He had. But visit wasn’t the word Kaylin would have used to describe it.
“I don’t have any of the books,” he told her. “I don’t think I could read most of them.”
“Me either,” Valliant said, speaking the Elantran that Robin and Kaylin spoke. “There are so. Many. Languages.”
“Are there language classes?”
Robin nodded. “But the best person to teach them is Arbiter Androsse, and he doesn’t technically leave the library—so we have to reach a point where we can take classes in the library. Like, next year.”
The idea that Robin was willing to work his butt off for the privilege of attending classes was a strange one for Kaylin, who had done her level best to avoid ever having to take another one. Some, like the surprisingly and bitterly useful etiquette lessons, had been mandatory, and she’d hated every minute she spent cooling her heels in a class where condescending men and women looked down their noses at her.
And maybe, she thought, she’d deserved some of that. It was not a comfortable thought.
The food was good. She expected that Robin would find almost anything acceptable as long as it was edible—they’d had similar childhoods, and anything was preferable to starvation. But it was simple food, not the fancier Barrani fare that Kaylin could eat but didn’t enjoy. Barrani were often stuck up and arrogant, and even their food could make her feel self-conscious.
She found herself relaxing. This dining hall reminded her of the mess hall in the Halls of Law—except without the carvings and small burn marks on the surfaces of the tables and benches. It was large, and it was—as Starrante had implied—mostly empty. The student body present on the last visit had been largely imprisoned here. They were gone, now.
Only those students like Robin, and there were perhaps five in total, had chosen to remain; Robin had been almost terrified that he, like the rest of the people imprisoned here, would be unwanted. Kaylin
understood his fear—she’d felt it herself. He was from the warrens, and she was from the fiefs. They both knew that they didn’t belong, that there were better people.
And what they knew was wrong.
Didn’t stop the doubts, but if a person couldn’t live with a few doubts about themselves, they probably wouldn’t survive long.
Serralyn and Valliant were new; they weren’t the first new admissions, but they were the first to arrive. Packing up the almost nothing they owned had taken no time, and Serralyn was bouncing down the halls in her excitement and anticipation; nothing could have delayed her.
Kaylin thought there was a small chance that Sedarias had tried.
She listened to the three students—Robin, Valliant and Serralyn—as they chattered. To be fair, she mostly listened to Robin and Serralyn; Valliant didn’t talk much. But she believed that his interest in the Academia was genuine; she was certain the Arkon—damn it! the chancellor—wouldn’t have accepted his application if he wasn’t.
She wondered what the dining hall would look like when all of the benches and tables were full. Decided it didn’t matter. Ate while thinking.
Eventually, she swallowed and turned to Severn. “Bellusdeo is helping the Arkon.”
Serralyn cleared her throat.
“The chancellor, sorry. Arkon was like his name for me, and I forget when I’m thinking.”
“That’s not what we generally call thinking,” she said, her grin very reminiscent of Mandoran’s.
“Can you hear the others while you’re here?”
She nodded. That was a second change. She wondered if that was Killian’s choice. Killian, not being Helen, did not immediately answer the question she hadn’t asked aloud.
“Was that Mandoran?”
Serralyn laughed. “It was. He’s bored.”
“Luckily, that’s not my problem.” She turned once again to her partner. “Bellusdeo is helping the chancellor. Do you think the chancellor is concerned that the Shadows will somehow enter the Academia now that it’s more corporeal?”
“If he isn’t, she will be. I’m sure that’s part of the reason she volunteered.”
The other being Candallar’s Tower. Kaylin kept this to herself, not because she wished to withhold information from the cohort—they already knew, now—but because she didn’t wish to have an argument about the Tower with Sedarias, who was no doubt busy fighting for their survival in the High Halls in a very Barrani way.
“Look.” Serralyn leaned across the table. “That’s Larrantin.”
He was the one Barrani man who was unmistakable, even at this distance: his hair was gray, the white strands very white, the dark, very black. The only other Barrani Kaylin knew that had nonblack hair was the Consort. She had never asked if the hair had started out the normal color and changed.
“You’ve heard of him?” It was Severn who asked.
Serralyn nodded emphatically. “He was—even when we were sent to the green—almost a legend. He was offered one of The Three, did you know?”
Kaylin shook her head.
“He wouldn’t take it. Or so the story goes.”
“Sedarias doesn’t believe it?”
Serralyn grimaced. “Of course not. It would have been an emblem of power and significance—what Barrani wouldn’t want that?”
“I’m tempted to say a rational one, but I’m not sure I’ve met many.”
To Kaylin’s surprise, Valliant chuckled—but she couldn’t be certain it was at anything she’d just said.
“You’ve met at least three,” Serralyn replied. “But we probably have the luxury of being your version of rational because Sedarias is on our side.”
“Can you ask Terrano if the Academia is barred to him?”
“Technically it’s not barred to anyone at the moment. People can visit if they’re willing to risk the fiefs. The chancellor can leave.”
“No wonder Bellusdeo is now aiding the chancellor.” Kaylin hadn’t considered Shadow encroachment as a threat. No doubt the chancellor had, and Bellusdeo never, ever forgot about Shadow. She knew that Helen could detect and protect against most incursions—but not all. Even some of the Hallionne had been compromised in Kaylin’s immediate experience.
The High Halls had also suffered from the influence and effect of Shadow. Of the heart of Ravellon. Kaylin had begun to distinguish between the two, but it was difficult. Ravellon had been home to Starrante’s entire race; she wondered if there was something about either his abilities or his physical form that required whatever Ravellon had been before its fall.
Kaylin shook her head. “This place was completely free of any taint of Shadow except what Candallar and associates brought with them. The Academia had been here, undetected, for a long damn time—and the Shadows couldn’t gain a foothold here while it was unoccupied.”
Serralyn’s eyes darkened for the first time in two days, but she nodded. “It’s an interesting question. The people in the Academia—trapped almost in stasis—were free from the danger of Shadow. If Bellusdeo—or anyone in the Academia—could figure out why, they might be able to suspend whole worlds in the same way.”
“You think that’s possible?”
Serralyn said, “I hope it’s possible. I don’t know. It’s one of the questions of import.”
“I don’t think the few lecturers the Academia retained will know, either.”
“No. But they know more about sentient buildings than we do. They know more about the library we’re not technically allowed to enter than we do. They know about Starrante. I really wanted to meet him.”
Robin perked up. “You can.”
“I’m not allowed in the library. Technically, neither are you.”
“Starrante’s the only librarian who can easily leave the library. I’m pretty sure he can’t leave the Academia, though. He does this really cool thing with webs; he can build portals out of them. But he can stabilize spaces with them as well. It’s not a magic that exists—or existed—among either Dragons or Barrani. He’s a bit scary to look at, and sometimes when he’s talking really close to my ear, it makes my spine tingle, because the clacking is terrible.
“But of the three Arbiters, I think he’s the least dangerous.” He paused, and then corrected himself. “He’s the least likely to kill someone because he’s angry.”
“I’m surprised this place isn’t crawling with Arcanists.”
Serralyn grinned. “If it were up to the Arcanum, it would be.”
“Arcanists aren’t allowed as students?”
“They’re already students—of the Arcanum. Given the difficulty Arcanists caused the past couple of weeks, when they worked to destabilize the Academia, I don’t think anyone wants members of the Arcanum here as students.”
Kaylin certainly didn’t, but the choice wasn’t hers.
“You’ve heard of at least one of them—I think you’ve met him a number of times, according to Teela.”
Ugh. “Evarrim.”
Serralyn nodded. “Teela doesn’t hate him.”
“He’s saved my life, so I shouldn’t.”
“There’s a chance he’ll come here.”
“He’s very much part of the High Lord’s inner court. The Consort trusts him. I can’t imagine either of them would willingly cede him to student life.”
Serralyn nodded. “It’s the one advantage to having no power to speak of—no one cares what I do.”
“Sedarias very definitely cares. So do the other ten.”
“You know what I meant. I’m not useful in the same way. If Sedarias’s attempts to rein in her family required my presence, I couldn’t be here. Anyway, you should finish eating. You’ve been staring into space too much. If you’re worried about the Dragon, you’ll be seeing what she’s doing firsthand from tomorrow.”
“So will you.”
&nb
sp; In a much more serious tone, Serralyn said, “Mandoran really likes Bellusdeo. For most of us, she’s a Dragon. I mean, so’s the chancellor, so it’s not all bad, but...we were sent to the green because of the Dragon wars. Personal history doesn’t immediately make Dragons objects of affection.”
“Unless you’re Mandoran.”
“Unless you’re Mandoran. To be fair, Annarion and Teela like her as well, just not in the same way.”
“Oh?”
“Mandoran would happily have her join the cohort. I mean, he wanted to give you his name as well.”
“So...he’s more trusting.”
“Not trusting, not exactly.”
Valliant cleared his throat. “Mandoran tends to trust humor and affection. But he’s always had good instincts. I think he could give you his name safely. Sedarias doesn’t agree. And no one joins us without consensus.”
In Kaylin’s admittedly brief experience, consensus was not something the cohort could expect to achieve. But not even Sedarias attempted to use True Names the way the Barrani feared they would always be used.
“So if one of you wanted to share your True Name with someone else, they couldn’t?”
“They could,” Valliant said. “But you understand why none of us want that.”
She did. She finished eating and rose. “I’ll leave you guys to talk about the Academia and its local legends. Try not to get in trouble.”
“You’re not going to talk to the Dragon?”
Bellusdeo was engaged in conversation with the chancellor. “No thanks. I just ate.”
* * *
Helen opened the front door before Kaylin reached it, and stood in its frame watching her as she made her way up the walk.
“You’ve eaten dinner, I assume,” Helen said.
Kaylin nodded. “Has everyone else?”
“Sedarias has not returned yet, nor have her companions. Mandoran and Terrano are in the dining room with Fallessian and Torrisant.” Kaylin had spent little time with the latter two; even in the larger group gatherings, they, like Valliant and Serralyn, tended to be silent. They were content to communicate with the cohort. And probably Helen. Kaylin was neither.
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