Cast in Wisdom (Chronicles of Elantra #15) - Michelle Sagara Page 0,102

Or whatever it is you call this place. We’re ourselves.”

“I will have words with your teachers when we return to the palace.”

“Which teachers?”

“Sanabalis.” Emmerian winced at the Arkon’s distinct and chilly lack of title. “You have avoided lessons with Sanabalis for long enough. No, don’t ask me any more questions; my temper is already somewhat taxed.”

Bellusdeo took the lead as they descended. “The stairs,” she informed the Arkon, “have not changed in shape or width.”

“Pitch?”

“The descent appears to be the same.”

Not only the descent but the hall itself—the endless loop of the long, rectangular hall that terminated in a door. The damage that they’d done to the doors in their previous visit had been repaired so well it might never have happened at all.

There was, however, one notable difference.

When they reached the end of this long hall with doors that led into what appeared to be student rooms or offices, they opened the door, expecting to find the same damn hall.

Perhaps it was the same hall, but standing just behind the door was Killian.

Chapter 18

Hope hadn’t lifted a wing to Kaylin’s face upon his return to his usual perch; he didn’t lift it now. Whatever Kaylin could see without his aid seemed acceptable to her familiar. Severn and Bellusdeo had seen Killian when she had first encountered him, and he was visible to both Emmerian and the Arkon now.

The Arkon drew one long, long breath. He then stepped in front of Bellusdeo without exactly shouldering her out of the way, which was impressive given the dimensions of the hall.

He bowed to Killian.

Killian’s expression rippled, as if a number of different emotions were now vying for control of his face before they all fell into the deep pit of neutrality.

“Killianas.”

Killian was silent. He looked past the bowed form of the Arkon, his gaze meeting—and holding—Kaylin’s. “You have returned.”

“We were asked to give you a message.”

“A message?” His gaze flicked off the Arkon’s bowed head. “Rise. If you maintain that position, it will be awkward.” The Arkon rose. Kaylin wondered if he’d intended to wait until he’d been given that permission. She’d done it before, and it wasn’t comfortable. But at least she’d had more of her limbs attached to the ground when she had.

“This is not a convenient time in which to receive guests.”

“We weren’t told to be guests,” Kaylin began. She stopped when the Arkon lifted a hand in her direction.

“What has happened to you?” the oldest Dragon said.

Killian didn’t hear the question. “We are experiencing difficulties,” he told the mortal Hawk. “It would be best if you returned on a different day.”

“We’d be happy to visit on a different day, as well,” Kaylin replied. “But we need to deliver a message now. It’s from Larrantin,” she added, glancing at the Arkon who seemed to hold the book in the death grip of folded Dragon arms.

Killian frowned. “This is not the way messages are usually delivered.”

The ground beneath Kaylin’s feet began to tremble. She glanced at her companions.

I feel it, Severn told her, his expression betraying nothing.

Kaylin took a deeper breath. “We wanted to survive delivering it.”

At this, Killian’s single eye narrowed. “Larrantin is strict and temperamental, but he is highly unlikely to kill his students.” He paused, his brow creasing. “You are his student?”

The Arkon stepped on her foot before she could answer. “She is my student,” he said.

Killian’s frown shifted, deepened. Kaylin nudged Hope; he smacked her cheek but didn’t leave his wing extended.

Killian, however, adjusted his gaze until it fell on the Arkon. To Kaylin, it felt as if he was performing a monumentally difficult task, although the Arkon was standing right beside her.

“Your student?”

“One of few.”

“She shows great potential,” Killian then said. “But seems somewhat lacking in discipline and a clear understanding of our rules. Do you accept responsibility for her?”

The Arkon straightened his shoulders, lifting his chin. “I do.”

“Very well. You are...” Once again, his expression rippled, his face gaining the lines of a frown that emerged from a blend of concentration and confusion. “You are Lannagaros of the Winged Fury Flight. I had not heard that you had graduated.”

This did annoy the Arkon. “I graduated with distinction. I was accepted as a lecturer, and given some handful of students of my own. I had an office in this building. You may speak with Larrantin if you wish to ascertain this, but I am now very concerned. I wish to speak to the chancellor.”

Killian looked at the Arkon—really looked at him, as if he were