Cast in Wisdom Page 8

  Severn joined Kaylin, walking by her side. The hall was too narrow for that to be a good fighting position, but Bellusdeo had chosen, for the moment, not to stand and fight. Probably a good thing, given what she’d said about fires and floors.

  The halls themselves were wider than the halls beneath their feet—if that was where those halls even existed.

  “It will be some small while yet,” the stranger continued. “And perhaps while we walk, you might explain your fiefs and border zones. I understand the general use of all of these words, but you are using them specifically. I find language fascinating,” he added.

  Kaylin was nonplused.

  Bellusdeo nodded, although she didn’t bother to look back to see that Kaylin had seen the gesture of permission.

  “There are six Towers near here. Or near where we accidentally entered your home.”

  He nodded. “The six.” He then said six things that she assumed were words related to the Towers. She didn’t understand them, and he spoke quickly as if he were murmuring to himself.

  “The six were created—”

  “To enclose Ravellon. To defend the rest of the world against what might seep out from within it.”

  “Okay, so you know that part. People were living in the areas in which the Towers were built. They still live around the Towers. We call those areas the fiefs.”

  “Why fief, exactly?”

  “I don’t know—that’s what they’ve always been called.” She bit back the frustration that almost pushed ruder words out of her mouth. Even if he was implying—heavily—that she was stupid, the stupid in this case wasn’t her fault. The Lords of the High Court referred to them as fiefs. Hells, it was probably a translation of the original Barrani word.

  “And the border zone?”

  “The fiefs exist around each Tower. Each fief has boundaries or borders, one facing the city, one facing each of the fiefs it borders, and one facing Ravellon. The Towers have knowledge of, and power in, their own territories. They have no knowledge of, or power over, other territories.

  “In the rest of the city—which is where I live and work—neighborhood borders are theoretical. The only people who care about them are men and women who love paperwork.”

  “Paperwork?”

  Ugh. “Rules. Laws.”

  “Ah. Continue.”

  “The borders in the fiefs don’t work like the borders anywhere else. When you step across a border you don’t immediately enter the next fief. There’s a stretch of gray, a band that seems to widen or constrict on its own, between all the fiefs. That zone doesn’t seem to include Ravellon—at least not from intermittent reports. So...we were attempting to leave one fief—the fief of Tiamaris—to enter its neighbor, the fief of Candallar.”

  “And you therefore crossed the border.”

  “Yes.”

  “And entered the border zone of which you speak.”

  “Yes.”

  “And you entered my home from that border zone?”

  “We didn’t exactly enter, but yes. We were drawn into your home, or at least your version of jail, from the border zone between Tiamaris and Candallar.”

  He was silent, but continued to move, the Hawks and the Dragon in his wake. “I do have a question,” she continued when no one else spoke. Hope squawked loudly, which robbed Kaylin of hearing in one ear, but did not get the attention of the person he was shouting at.

  “That wall of yours in the big room—”

  “It is not my wall.”

  “Fine. The wall in the big room to the left of the stairs down. It appears to contain people of various races.”

  He froze. Severn’s hands dropped to weapon hilts.

  The man turned, his single eye a narrow slit of blue so dark it was black. “To what do you refer?”

  “There’s a very, very large stone room. Do you know that room?”

  Silence.

  “Look, it’s either yes or no.”

  “This is my home, but I am not its master. The room of which you speak, I have not seen.”

  Hope had had enough, and once again attempted to leave Kaylin’s shoulder. She reached up and caught his legs as he spread his wings and inhaled. The sound was very like the sound of Bellusdeo inhaling.

  “No, not now!” Kaylin shouted.

  Kaylin’s shout, unlike Hope’s, was perfectly audible. Their guide turned as Kaylin’s arm was lifted by Hope. Even at his diminutive size, he had weight and momentum, and she was pulled up until she was balanced on her toes.

  “Sorry,” she said through clenched teeth, trying to offer what she hoped was a placating smile. “I’m having a minor disagreement with—stop it, Hope!”

  The single eye was narrowed, the expression a series of graven lines that made the Barrani face look like chiseled stone.

  Hope exhaled a cloud of silver with glinting colored bits contained in the stream. Bellusdeo side-stepped its mass; it was a much larger mass than Hope, at this size, usually emitted.

  Kaylin was not in its path; Severn was not in its path.

  Only the Barrani who had offered to show them the door—but politely, which was more than most intruders could expect—was. He didn’t move. The cloud was part of Hope, and Hope remained invisible to him. Hope’s effect on Kaylin was obvious; most people did not dangle on their toes the way she now did. But he couldn’t see Hope, and as he stood there frowning, the cloud that was the familiar’s version of Dragon breath hit his face and shoulders.

  Hope then allowed himself to be returned to Kaylin’s shoulders.

  “What are you trying to do?” She demanded. “I mean it.” It didn’t matter if the Barrani thought she was hallucinating—or worse.

  He cannot hear me, Hope replied. What do you think I was trying to do?

  “We don’t usually breathe on people’s faces so they can hear us.”

  “My apologies,” the Barrani stranger said. From the direction of his gaze, he was now looking at Hope. His face had not melted; his eye had not changed shape, and the color had lightened to a normal Barrani blue.

  “We’re going to have words about this when we get home.”

  Hope squawked. Loudly.

  “Yes,” the man replied. “I apologize for the lack of introduction. I am called Killian when I am required to interact.”

  Squawk. Squawk.

  “I cannot answer your question.” His eye narrowed as Hope continued to squawk.

  “Can you understand a word he’s saying?” Kaylin asked Bellusdeo.

  “No.” Her eyes were a deeper orange now.

  “I have no access to the room you describe. I will not lead you there. I will show you the exit. I cannot guarantee that you will return to the same physical location you entered.”

  Everything about this conversation was strange. Given the circumstances, strange was expected, but it was strange on the wrong axis.

  The man who had introduced himself as Killian then turned and once again resumed his graceful but unhurried walk.

  * * *

  The way out was six halls and one short flight of stairs away. Kaylin counted. The building was enormous, but oddly narrow. Geography was not her strong point; she navigated by landmarks when she could identify them, by instinctive memory when she couldn’t.

  But the last hall was wider, and looked like the entrance to an old, well-used building in which one expected guests, or if not guests, visitors. This was not so much a home, in Kaylin’s opinion, but...maybe a boarding school? She’d had cause—once—to visit a school meant for adult students. She hadn’t been comfortable there. This reminded her of that, except emptied. Although the floors and the carpet runners showed wear, all doors were closed; she could hear no sound of movement, no sound of discussion, outside of their own.

  Hope squawked.

  “I do not advise
you to attempt to return. If you must, I advise you to avoid your previous method of entry. It is not well maintained, and could prove dangerous to your companions.”

  Kaylin had no desire to set foot in this building again. Killian reached two closed, but much larger, doors. She was surprised to see him move to physically open them. She stepped forward to help, but Hope bit her ear.

  “This building was once—long ago—a school. The rooms we passed were occupied by students; there are rooms you did not encounter that were occupied by teachers.”

  “Are you the building’s sole occupant now?”

  “No.”

  “And we’ve managed to avoid any of the other occupants?”

  “Yes, it is best to avoid them. Some of them will not be pleased to encounter you or learn of your existence.” The doors fully open, he stood to the side and offered them a bow.

  The doors opened into the washed-out color of the streets of the border zone. The buildings were not the same buildings—there was far more street, for one thing, and fewer smaller buildings that might once have served as homes. She thought the shape of the street directly ahead of these doors could have served as a standing place in front of the Town Hall. Or the Imperial Palace.

  She turned back to the door that Killian had not yet closed. “Do these streets always look like this?”

  He nodded.

  “Which Towers are closest to these doors?”

  “Durandel, Aggarok and Karriamis.” None were names she recognized. “Be wary. I must close the doors now.” And so saying, he did.

  * * *

  The building didn’t magically disappear when the doors had been closed. The streets didn’t shift. They were in the border zone, between two Towers Kaylin had never heard of. She turned to Severn, raising a brow.

  “We’re in the border zone of Nightshade, closer to the Ravellon edge,” Severn replied, although she hadn’t actually asked the question.

  “So, between Nightshade and Tiamaris?”

  “Between Nightshade and Liatt.”

  “So this building somehow extends—under the ground—between two full fiefs.”

  “I do not believe it’s that simple,” Bellusdeo then said, in High Barrani.

  “And we’re nowhere near Candallar, where we’re supposed to investigate.”

  “Looks like. I highly suggest that we return to the Halls of Law.”

  “And I,” Bellusdeo said, pulling rank—even if she didn’t have one, “suggest we repair to the Imperial Palace. We were supposed to consult with the Arkon anyway.”

  Chapter 6

  Their exit from the border zone, orientation provided by Severn, took them into the fief of Nightshade in midafternoon. Nightshade was not where Kaylin wanted to be on the best of days. She didn’t number the day so far to be among those.

  This fief, unlike Tiamaris, radiated the grim despair of the desperate—a reminder of the life she’d had no choice but to lead, and never wanted to return to. But on the plus side, she knew Nightshade fairly well, and leaving it as a Hawk, with a Dragon as a companion, did not present problems, although it did somewhat clear the streets.

  Most of the fief dwellers wouldn’t recognize Dragons on sight—not unless they were in their scaled, Draconic forms. But they did recognize the Hawk, and Kaylin and Severn were both wearing tabards. It wasn’t always safe to attract that kind of attention—but that happened outside of the fiefs, as well.

  Given the day, she was almost surprised that Nightshade didn’t just materialize on the streets as they made their way out.

  I did not know that you would be in my fief until this moment, the fieflord replied.

  You didn’t know.

  No. For some hours, you could not be reached at all. I am accustomed to this; Helen does not often allow communication unless you initiate it. You are not, he added, with Helen.

  She hadn’t noticed, but she hadn’t attempted to contact any of the people whose thoughts could reach straight into the inside of her head while she’d been looking for a way out.

  Do you recognize the names Durandel, Aggarok and Karriamis?

  Had he been present, he would have blinked; she could feel his wordless surprise. Durandel was the name of the Tower that is now called Castle Nightshade. It is a historical name. I am curious to see what the Arkon makes of it. For that reason, nothing will impede your passage across the Ablayne today. I would, however, appreciate it if Lord Bellusdeo refrained from transforming in my streets. Where there is panic in Nightshade, I prefer it to be orchestrated panic.

  Meaning he caused it.

  Your brother would be a lot happier with you if—

  My brother has only barely survived being himself. I have survived for centuries without his advice.

  Kaylin shut down that line of thought, although it remained behind the words she struggled not to say. Which meant that Nightshade was aware of it anyway.

  Candallar, she said, dragging different words and different worries to the forefront.

  I understand your concern, given the events you have only recently survived. Nightshade’s tone was less glacial. You will find, however, that few of the fieflords spend the entirety of their existence within the fiefs that bear their names. Each have their own concerns.

  Have you met many of them?

  Silence again.

  Kaylin gave up.

  * * *

  The Arkon’s library—or rather the Imperial Library—was open to the public. Public, in this case, involved a string of permissions that would discourage anyone who didn’t like to sign papers in figurative blood—but there were a lot of people who were willing to do that.

  During the day, during the hours in which people who were not Dragons were given judicious permission to look at the Imperial collection, the Arkon did not leave his rooms. His rooms were located in the depths of a collection that was never, to Kaylin’s knowledge, open to the public.

  Kaylin approached a desk so wide it served as a wall between the Imperial librarians and their visitors. Before she could speak, Bellusdeo stepped in front of her. “We are here,” she said, “to speak with the Arkon.”

  The librarians were no more eager to face an irritated Dragon than Kaylin was. “Are you early for your appointment?” the standing librarian asked hopefully. Kaylin would have gotten something far less tentative. Like, Go away if you don’t have an appointment.

  Since the librarian at the desk was senior, he knew damn well that Bellusdeo had no appointment. He also knew that Bellusdeo was a Dragon. “Please wait a moment,” he said. “The Arkon is occupied, but I am certain he will remember your appointment.”

  That said, he called a young woman over. After a short pause, she nodded and left the desk, heading in the direction of the Arkon’s personal collection. Bellusdeo turned away from the librarian; she flashed Kaylin a toothy grin. Even in human form, Dragons had impressive canines.

  “Are you in a betting mood?” the Dragon asked.

  “Please don’t ask that here.”

  “Oh? Why?”

  “I don’t want to be charged with corrupting public morals.”

  “I am hardly public.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  The grin deepened. “I do. Very well. I suggest that you marshal your curiosity and come up with the questions you wish Lannagaros to answer.”

  “He won’t answer them if I ask.”

  “That’s harsh. He’ll answer, but he’ll make it clear that you are wasting his time.”

  “He can make it clear without answering the questions, from prior experience.”

  “Ah. Well, perhaps it’s best that I’m with you, after all.”

  * * *

  The Arkon was, of course, available for Bellusdeo’s nonexistent appointment. Kaylin wondered if any of the other Lords of the Dragon Court would have
received the same treatment. She was pretty certain that the Emperor could march in at his own convenience—but just as certain that he would command the Arkon to attend him first.

  The young page who had returned with the Arkon’s message—that he was willing to meet with Bellusdeo earlier than the appointed time—led them to the Arkon. Or tried. Bellusdeo, somewhat impatient, said, “We know the way,” and sent the young woman back to the desk.

  She hesitated, but Bellusdeo was a Dragon. The young woman was a librarian, probably in training. Angering her boss was career-limiting. But breaking protocol, while frowned on, was acceptable if the Arkon was amenable. Kaylin hoped that the senior librarian in command of that long desk would make it clear to her.

  Either way, it wasn’t Kaylin’s problem.

  * * *

  The Arkon was not in the room that had walls for doors. Those walls would open and close only at the Arkon’s command. No, today he had either abandoned those rooms or was confronting paperwork that did not require heavy magical “precautions,” as he called them.

  He was at a normal, boring desk when Bellusdeo walked in. He stood immediately, his expression making clear that knocking should never be optional.

  “What brings you to the library? I’ve taken the liberty of calling for refreshments if that is acceptable to you.”

  “It is not only acceptable; it is almost shocking. It makes me feel quite welcome here.”

  Kaylin wondered, glumly, if refreshments had also been arranged for the two Hawks.

  “To answer your question, however, I have something of yours I wish to return.” She then opened the flap of her satchel and removed a small cloth bag.

  The Arkon’s eyes narrowed, but even narrowed it was clear that they were now a bright orange. He held out a hand, and Bellusdeo placed the bag in his palm. His fingers closed around it in a death grip that whitened his knuckles. “You carried them in your...pouch.”