Cast in Wisdom (Chronicles of Elantra #15) - Michelle Sagara Page 0,141

book cover with it wherever it is. I promise I’m not damaging a book.”

“You had better not be,” he growled.

“Lannagaros, honestly.”

“I mean it.”

Kaylin grimaced but didn’t respond; there was nothing she could say. The word—Starrante’s word—seemed to be attempting to evade her.

* * *

I’m not sure what the Arbiters have done, Severn said, but Terrano believes he can locate you now.

Tell him to stay where he is.

Severn didn’t bother with a verbal reply, but Kaylin understood. Telling Terrano to stay where he was was a waste of breath. Helen could manage to both say it and enforce it. Maybe. No one else stood a chance.

I mean it—if Robin manages to get you to the chancellor’s office, Terrano’s the one most likely to be able to ignore inconvenient things—like, say, doors or walls. If he needs to go on a seek-and-find mission, he should be looking for Candallar. I’m willing to bet Candallar is the interim chancellor, and it’s Candallar who holds whatever diminished keys are necessary to open Killian’s figurative locked doors.

Terrano doesn’t like it; Sedarias agrees with you. She also points out that she’s not sure how long we’ll have Robin, so the office comes first.

Kaylin nodded. Sedarias was the person she’d send to find Candallar—Sedarias or Bellusdeo. The latter, however, was here and likely to remain here in the immediate future.

A geyser of purple flame interrupted that thought, given its location: beneath Kaylin’s feet. The Arkon’s protections buckled for a moment, but didn’t break. Bellusdeo headed toward the visible fight.

The Arkon didn’t stop her; he didn’t even try. “Corporal?”

She shook her head. The book itself obviously occupied dimensions quite different from its physical shape. She thought she could climb into Starrante’s rune—if she was conveniently sized and shaped in a way that would fit through the window made of lines—and still be no closer to actually touching it.

A thought came to her then, and she turned—as she had done before and would no doubt do in the future—to the Arkon, the ancient Dragon whose life had been given to the gaining of knowledge.

He seemed to be waiting, as irritable as he often was when interrupted. His eyes were a deep orange, the inner membrane raised to slightly mute the color.

“I can’t touch the word on this book.”

He nodded; he’d seen the attempt.

“I can see the shape of it—but the shape is now a series of holes or windows. I can’t pull the word from it. And I’m pretty sure I don’t have that word just hanging around the rest of the marks on my skin.”

“I cannot see a word,” the Arkon replied. “I could not see a book. I can make assumptions on what I should see based on the two books belonging to the Arbiters, but those assumptions will not grant you the insight you desire.”

“Should I try to...speak this word?”

“In some fashion, I believe that is what you were trying to do.”

“No—I was only trying to touch it.”

His eyes narrowed; his face shifted into a familiar expression. She’d just seen it on Killian’s face. “You have had little experience with the speaking of these words, but if your assumptions are correct, you have had more experience than most of the Barrani—and mortals—assembled here. What they did did not invoke that word.”

“That’s not what I’m afraid of.”

“You are afraid that they have somehow managed to siphon the power of that word?”

She nodded. “Killian can now locate the other two Arbiters. He still can’t locate Starrante, but...he’s aware of his presence. Peripherally. Not in a way that would be useful to us. If he were truly awake, I don’t think we’d have any problem finding Starrante.”

“Then speak the word, Chosen.”

“Could I just—I don’t know, give it a different word?”

Orange tilted toward red.

“Or not.”

“It is not a name as you perceive True Names,” the Arkon then said, relenting. “It is a word. Starrante did not require a True Name to become an Arbiter. He came with the True Names he required, as did Kavallac and Androsse.”

“But the words on their books aren’t the same.”

“As each other’s?”

Kaylin nodded.

“No. The words are doors, if I understand their use—and, frustratingly, my knowledge in this regard is scant. If I could see the word, I could attempt to speak it; I am not guaranteed to succeed. The words you have heard me speak—the words you have heard Sanabalis speak—are words that were taught to me in the distant past.

“But you are aware of the effect those words might have on the Leontines, a