Cast in Wisdom (Chronicles of Elantra #15) - Michelle Sagara Page 0,128
this man was far more dangerous, even half-dead, than those mages had been in the Halls of Law. She’d been certain that if she survived the lessons—and passed them, as the Hawks’ training required—she would be free of arrogant, condescending teachers for the rest of her life. She’d done both, and then been saddled with literal Dragons as teachers.
And now this.
“My apologies if I disturbed you,” she said, knowing that awkward silence was worse than most of the words she could offer in her defense. “The library isn’t open to the residents of the Academia, and I’ve been tasked with discovering how to open it.”
“You?”
Ugh. “Yes.”
“Let me be certain I understand what you are saying. You have entered a library that is not currently available to any member of the Academia.”
She wilted. “Yes.”
“And you have been tasked with opening this library.”
“Yes.”
“How, then, did you enter it at all?”
This was one of two questions she’d been afraid he was going to ask, the other being by who. She exhaled. “I used the marks of the Chosen on a flat, unadorned stone wall.”
Unlike any other teacher who knew her, he accepted her words at face value. He had no idea that she didn’t know how to use those marks, after all. His nod was brief, and his gaze drifted away from her face, past the shoulder that didn’t contain a familiar.
“There appear to be occupants, regardless.”
“Yes, I’m sorry. Two of those occupants came with me.”
“Those would be?”
“The Dragons.”
“And the other three?”
“I have no idea how they arrived here. Wait, you can see them?” This was the wrong question, but it fell out of her mouth before she could shut it.
“Of course I can see them.” The answer was superbly waspish.
“It’s just—no one else can.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“No one else can see them except me.” Before he could speak again, she said, “Killian couldn’t see them. I think he knows something’s wrong,” she added, to be fair.
“I dislike translations,” he finally said. “They are cumbersome and frequently inaccurate. You are now telling me that Killianas cannot see these intruders?”
“Killian—Killianas—is perhaps not what he was the last time someone wakened you.” She desperately wanted to leave the rest of this conversation in someone else’s hands—but the Arkon was nowhere near where she now stood, and going back to him with the book required that she walk through three Barrani.
“What do you mean?”
Exhaling, she said, “When you entered the book, for want of better words—”
“For severe want of much more intelligent words. Continue.”
“—was Ravellon the center of the world?”
“It was not the center of mine, but if you speak of my tenure in this position, yes. Ravellon was considered by many to the center of the world. Of all worlds.” He lifted a ghostly chin in silence; Kaylin thought he’d finished. “So—it came to pass, then. Ravellon’s fall, and its entrapment. We heard of it; we spoke with the last chancellor, Terramonte. He came to offer us warning, having evacuated all that he could find. Some were not willing to leave. Some of lesser power had no choice.”
“You chose not to leave.”
“We cannot leave. While we exist, sleeping or waking, the library exists. Tell me, how large an area did the Towers encompass?”
Kaylin swallowed. She wondered if this man had wanted to be a librarian. “The Academia was between two of the areas assigned to the Towers.
“Larrantin is still here. I think a couple of others, as well. Having spoken only to Larrantin, I believe he was distracted and missed the timing.”
“That would be young Larrantin, indeed. Very well. How do the Towers function? What is the theory behind their abilities?” His frown deepened. “Shadow.”
“I’m not certain how they function. But they exist in any state of reality I’ve experienced.”
His expression made clear just how little he thought she’d experienced. It raised hackles—but it always did—and she forced herself to swallow the knee-jerk reaction. Later, she’d complain to Helen about it. Now, she needed to give him the information he’d asked for—or as much of it as she could manage.
“They exist in the outlands.”
“...Outlands?”
What had Nightshade said? “Primal ether?”
This made more sense to him; his gaze turned toward the floor, or rather, drifted there, while his thoughts went elsewhere. “I require more information,” he finally said. Kaylin waited for questions that she knew she couldn’t answer to his satisfaction—she couldn’t answer them to her own, either.
Clearly, waiting was not the right choice.
“You will pardon my frustration,” he told her. “Anyone who has permission to enter