Cast in Wisdom (Chronicles of Elantra #15) - Michelle Sagara Page 0,177

are correct. He also feels he owes at least the duty of apology and proper transfer of responsibility to the one who will carry the duties of Arkon in his stead.”

“Can you make it less difficult for us to find you?”

“I believe that can be done, yes. Return at your leisure. I do not think you have the makings of a diligent student in you—not yet; you are given to the practical, or to what you see as practical; you want an immediate use for the knowledge you gain, and you want to study only those things that will have that immediate use.

“Perhaps this will change with time; perhaps not. I believe there are those among your houseguests who might be at home in the Academia, but Candallar’s method of inducting students was never ours.” He bowed again. “You will always be welcome as a visitor.”

* * *

Bellusdeo, Emmerian and the Arkon left together; they were followed at a discreet distance by Annarion, Sedarias, Mandoran and Terrano, although Annarion fell back to walk beside his brother. There was no hostility between the two brothers, which was almost a first.

Kaylin and Severn walked together. She glanced pointedly at his singed arm, and he just as pointedly refused to notice the direction of her glance.

The Academia looked normal: the grass, the trees, the buildings all had the color one would expect had they been situated in any other part of Elantra. The grounds weren’t empty; the cohort, the Dragons and the Hawks were not the only people leaving. Not all of the people Candallar—she assumed it was Candallar—had inducted into the student body had enjoyed their endless and repetitive captivity.

One or two looked back, as if they were afraid that freedom was the dream and the Academia the only reality—but they continued to walk toward the streets that would lead them, eventually, to Elantra.

Those streets, however, like the Academia, were solid. The cohort could see them as clearly as anyone else; they no longer saw the fog that obscured the buildings everyone else had seen.

Killian was, as Kaylin had half suspected, the border zone.

She wondered if the streets that led to the fiefs—but no, there were no streets now. The border zone, with its changing width, length and unpredictable buildings, was gone; what remained was a pleasant single street that led directly into the fief of Nightshade.

The fieflings and the Barrani who served Nightshade directly wouldn’t have dared to stop the large party that now entered the fief; they might seek Nightshade’s command, but as he was walking with them, they failed to emerge. He walked them to the bridge that led across the Ablayne.

“I would invite you to visit,” he said to his brother, “but Durandel is difficult and willful, and I do not think he has forgiven you for the last visit.”

Annarion was in no hurry to return—not to Castle Nightshade. The whole of the cohort, however, seemed eager to return to Helen. To Helen or the rest of their number, who were waiting.

Kaylin understood; she wanted to go home, too.

But Lord Emmerian invited her to accompany them to the palace. Her expression must have been honest because he winced. Bellusdeo, however, put her foot down.

“We will accompany Lannagaros to the palace. He will need to speak to the Dragon Court about what occurred—and you are one of our primary witnesses.”

Hope squawked.

“Yes, I’m aware of that—but there will be questions, and we thought it best to allow Kaylin to answer them. I am not certain the cohort is prepared for the Imperial Court at the moment, and even were the cohort prepared, I’m not certain the same could be said for the Court. You are their spokesperson, as well.”

“Sedarias wouldn’t agree to that.”

“No, of course not. But Sedarias is with Helen, and her reaction is your problem.”

“Can I remind you that you also live under the same roof?”

Bellusdeo grinned. With teeth.

Kaylin wanted Severn as company; she wanted Severn to clean and tend his arm.

He shook his head. “I’ve had worse injuries. This is almost nothing.”

“It’s a burn. Burns are—”

“It’s not a burn. It’s fine. I highly doubt the Emperor—or the rest of the Court—will look twice at my lack of a sleeve given the news the former Arkon is about to impart.”

* * *

Sleeves might or might not be an issue, but sleeves—attached to a shirt—were brought by pages when Severn arrived at the palace. He and Kaylin, following Emmerian, had been escorted to Sanabalis’s offices. Sanabalis was in those