Cast in Wisdom (Chronicles of Elantra #15) - Michelle Sagara Page 0,123
curve given the shelves were so large—ended. Kaylin pressed her back into the shelves before she headed out into the next section of the library.
Does he give any indication—beyond the subject itself—of what this lecture is about?
Today’s class is apparently about the intersection between dimensional space in confined quarters and True Words.
Confined quarters. Is that building-sized confinement? Or a closet?
I assume the former.
Could that apply to library-sized quarters?
I am not of a mind to interrupt him to ask that question. If, however, you come up with one that is more immediately relevant, I shall make the attempt.
Kaylin considered it relevant. She wanted to return to the Arkon’s side, to ask if Killian himself had ever taught classes, but she was pretty certain the answer would be no. In which case, this was deliberate on Killian’s part.
Killian who had said that there was no master here, no lord. No chancellor. She assumed that Candallar or one of his allies wanted to become that chancellor, somehow. Or wanted the power that came with control of the building—if that power now existed.
Killian was spread, in a fashion she couldn’t see, across the fiefs; squeezed between the boundaries transcribed by the Towers. He had not been aware of her until she had tried to communicate with him—by introducing herself.
Ask him, she said, if a sentient building can fully exist in the outlands, and only the outlands.
Pardon?
The Hallionne border the outlands, but they exist—they were created—in lands people like us can occupy. They aren’t part of the outlands, but they can use the...the...miasma to effect temporary change. We know that living buildings are the sum of the words at their core, whatever those words are. But those words exist here.
They demonstrably continue to exist when we enter the outlands. If you wish to exempt the cohort from this rule, I will allow it, but Bellusdeo was also with you in the outlands, and the outlands did not strip her of the power of her essential nature.
But it’s a nature that’s defined by the world we normally live in. It’s why Terrano couldn’t continue to be Terrano as he was. To take the name back, to take the word back, to acknowledge it again, he had to accept confinement or containment. Yes, the cohort isn’t what it once was, and yes, they stretch the boundaries of what Barrani are—but there are limits, I think. They can’t both be here and be completely other.
Nightshade cleared his throat; she could feel the sound as if it came from her. She could see Killian clearly, the ruin of his eye larger and darker in Nightshade’s vision than it had been when she had first encountered the Avatar.
Killian looked across the room to meet Nightshade’s gaze.
Or to meet Kaylin’s. She asked the question through Nightshade.
“A perceptive question,” Killian replied in that stiff and annoying way that reminded her of Imperial Mages. “No. A sentient building, as you put it, cannot exist only within the outlands. Buildings are defined by their function, and their function is rooted here.”
“But what’s to stop a building from fulfilling those functions in the outlands?”
“There are no words, in the outlands, except those they carry within them. The buildings cannot be created—or birthed—in the outlands.”
“But that wasn’t the question I asked,” Kaylin said. Nightshade almost stopped her. “My question was: Can a building that was created the normal way fully exist in the outlands?”
“Hypothetically?”
“This is the Academia,” Nightshade said, voice dry.
Killian’s smile was stiff but in spite of that felt natural.
“Hypothetically, yes.”
“What conditions would be required to allow that?”
“I cannot answer that question. A building such as you describe has not been created in the outlands since—but no, that is a topic for another day. Robin, you did not bring your book.”
Nightshade turned slightly to see one of the students. A child.
“No, sir.”
“I believe we’ve had this discussion before.”
“No, sir.”
“Ah. I would like you to remain after class. You as well, Calarnenne. Honestly, students these days are of a lesser caliber when it comes to dedication.”
* * *
Kaylin didn’t snicker, but it took effort—and given her actual, physical surroundings, it shouldn’t have. Hope’s wing glowed faintly as her vision and attention returned to the darkness. She assumed that the glow couldn’t be seen by whoever their adversary, or adversaries, were. But she concentrated, and as she did, she could make out the shadow-shrouded contours of the library, or the section of the library in which she now lurked in silence.