Cast in Wisdom (Chronicles of Elantra #15) - Michelle Sagara Page 0,115

is correct. The direction in which we were moving defined what we could see. But...we could always see the Towers.”

“We could always see one Tower,” Kaylin said. She frowned. “The Towers were clear. They looked like they normally look. The rest of the street was the same washed-out, grayish color, but the Towers were clear.”

The Arkon’s eyes were an orange-gold as he watched her.

“You could blink,” she told him.

“He forces himself not to when he wants a student to come up with the answer to a problem on their own. It’s his method of dealing with laziness.”

The Arkon snorted. He did not, however, blink.

“I’m wondering,” Kaylin said, under that unblinking not-quite-glare, “if Killian’s existence—what remains of it—is anchored by the Towers themselves.”

Chapter 20

It was Bellusdeo who broke the long silence that followed Kaylin’s comment. “That would make sense, although I confess I don’t understand the mechanics involved. If the Towers somehow anchored what remained of Killian, or built anchors of some kind as they rose, their influence might be very like the influence the Hallionne exert on the outlands. The border zones,” she added, “look nothing like the outlands to me. But they did to the cohort.”

“It would also explain how Candallar discovered Killian at all. But if Candallar could discover Killian, I’m really surprised that Nightshade hadn’t. He spent some of his early life exploring the fiefs and looking for ancient ruins before he settled into Nightshade as the fieflord.”

Bellusdeo was frowning. “It’s possible,” she finally said, “that the discovery of Killian and the breach of the defenses within Candallar itself are interconnected somehow. I do not imagine that someone entering Ravellon from Farlonne could emerge carrying the entity you call Spike.”

Nightshade?

I concur. She felt a hint of frustration and realized he was annoyed by Kaylin’s surprise. Or rather, he was annoyed that he hadn’t discovered Killian first. It was a frustration that Kaylin normally couldn’t sense.

No. The word was curt. It is not...easy...to speak with you, even as we now speak. To do so requires more reach, more intent. There is more of me present in this discussion than would generally be either wise or normal.

This also surprised Kaylin, but Nightshade had never had problems discerning her surprise.

A function of the way you communicate when you are, as you so quaintly put it, on the inside of your own head. It is what Lord Ynpharion finds so deplorable. This, on the other hand, amused Nightshade. It is lunch now. I am heading toward the dining hall. But your thinking in regard to Killian and Candallar seems sound to me. Judging from the Arkon’s expression, he is unable to find immediate flaw with it himself.

She felt his pang of regret as he mentioned the Arkon—but that, he had always felt. It occurred to her only now that she felt it because the regret was deep, genuine and impossible to entirely squelch.

“Do you think that Candallar set his Tower to search for Killian?”

“Yes,” the Arkon said, the syllable almost Draconic in tone and texture.

“And the Tower did.”

“Yes. I believe you are correct about the timing of the Candallar breach, and it would explain much.”

“How did Candallar know?”

“If you will be silent for a few moments, I might be able to think without interruption.” His eyes had grown orange, and that orange deepened. This made it pretty easy to shut up.

He closed his eyes; the orange shuttered for a moment. Kaylin could feel Nightshade leaning in, the whole of his attention upon the Arkon, as if he were present in this hall, this enclosed space.

“Karriamis,” the Arkon finally said.

Bellusdeo frowned.

“Karriamis is the ancient name of the Tower that is now called Candallar.”

Kaylin said, “Karriamis was a Dragon.”

“Yes. Before he became the heart of, the mind of, one of the six, he was a Dragon.”

She thought of the Ancestors of the Barrani; she wondered if Dragon ancestors were as terrifying. She didn’t ask. Instead, she said, “You think he knew Aramechtis.”

“Yes. I was young,” the Arkon said. “I was young enough that even my memory is stubborn and hard to retrieve. I have not thought of Aramechtis for centuries. I have not thought of Karriamis for far, far longer. It is possible, then, that Karriamis knew—or hoped—that the Academia had been preserved in some fashion.

“You have seen the Tower of Tiamaris. You have spoken with its Avatar. Tara is what remains of the heart of that Tower. Karriamis is no longer a Dragon; I do not believe he could be retrieved and