Cast in Wisdom (Chronicles of Elantra #15) - Michelle Sagara Page 0,84
than the contents.
Oddly, it was Helen who broke the silence first. “You do not need to do this for me.” It wasn’t quite what Kaylin was expecting to hear.
“I’m not doing this for you.”
Helen’s smile was slight, but it lingered. “Killian would likely not recognize what I’ve become. What I’ve chosen to become. And we were not friends as you and Bellusdeo are friends.”
“But you knew him.”
“Yes. You have divined that it is, at times, lonely to be what we are.”
“Everything living gets lonely sometimes.” Kaylin blew on the hot chocolate, having attempted to drink it too early.
“Yes. I was not as Killian was. My function was not his function. But the level of loneliness was dependent on the lord of the manor, as it were. I was not—quite—like the Hallionne in function, if your experience with them is correct. But Killian was unique.” She fell silent.
“Do you see a book?” Kaylin asked her home.
“Yes. I see what you see.”
Bellusdeo and Emmerian exchanged a glance.
“But I also see what Bellusdeo and Lord Emmerian see. In neither case was this meant for you, but I believe you see a book because you saw a private library, and I believe you can see a book because you were meant to carry it.”
“What do you think it would do to—or for—Killian?”
“I am uncertain. I am reluctant to open the book, as the Arkon suggested you do; I am even more reluctant to read it. As I said: Killian was unique. Our functions had—as most buildings must—some overlap, but he had far more flexibility. He was meant for...people.”
“He vanished when the Towers rose. There was a period of perhaps twelve hours—according to the most ancient of our Records—and we have dispatched a messenger to Tiamaris in the hopes that we might discuss this matter with his Tower.” Emmerian’s tone was carefully neutral.
“Tara,” Kaylin said, almost reflexively. “You want to talk to Tara.”
Emmerian nodded. He then turned to Bellusdeo. “You have known the Arkon for longer than any of us—but you have spent far less time with him.”
She nodded. “I am concerned for him now.”
“As you should be. We are all concerned.”
Had Kaylin’s hands not been full, she would have put up her hand, as if she were in class. “Why are you guys worried?”
The glance they exchanged was clear enough that it rendered words superfluous. It was Emmerian who answered, but he was an immortal. The answer had to be couched in words before it arrived, as if it needed a carriage.
“You have been told that the library is the Arkon’s hoard.”
Kaylin nodded.
“You have even survived the handling of an artifact from that hoard that vanished. You are still alive.”
Her nod was less patient.
“Have you never wondered at his collection? His attempt to hoard antiquities?”
“Not really. I mean, he’s the Imperial Librarian.”
Emmerian once again looked to Bellusdeo, but the gold Dragon was willing to leave the discussion in his hands.
“Let me then speak of Killianas. I am not Tiamaris, who is significantly younger than the rest of the Dragon Court. I did not, however, meet Killianas in my youth; my youth was a martial time.” He lifted his gaze, his eyes finding a blank wall.
After a moment, that blank wall grew a painting—a large framed painting. Emmerian smiled, his glance moving briefly to Helen. “Martial prowess was highly valued by both the Barrani and the Dragons. Martial prowess,” he added, “did not mean to us what it means to you; perhaps it means the handling of, the ability to handle, weapons of war—one of which would be magic. But in the absence of magic, we had the weapons to which we were born. Dragons breathe fire,” he continued. “But we are not all adept at its handling; the strength of flame, the length at which we can sustain it, are elements that we must train.
“I was young enough that the training itself was considered the highest priority. It is not easy to breathe fire while one dodges the arcane arts that are cast from below.” He put his hands together, and for a moment, bowed his head.
“I was not interested in war. I was interested in survival. I understood that the Barrani were far more numerous; that the Dragons—” He stopped, as if coming out of his reverie in time not to mention why Bellusdeo was so important to what remained of their race. “The war ended. Peace descended.
“Into this foreign land—this peaceful land—I walked as a stranger. I had spent my youth and