The Emperor's Wolves (Wolves of Elantra #1) - Michelle Sagara Page 0,96
I can’t show you the other one. We’re not allowed to go into the workrooms.”
“Workrooms?”
“Some of us have rooms. To work in,” she added, in case it wasn’t obvious. Her brow was puckered in thought, as if she were speaking a second language but laboriously translating between that and her mother tongue.
“Do you?”
She nodded.
“Do you paint?”
“Sometimes. I’m not as good at it as he is, though.” She gestured at the painting she’d brought them to see. “Sometimes I sketch. Sometimes I make things—like sculptures.”
“Is it ever just words?” Jerrin again.
“Not for me. Stuart’s are almost always just words but...sometimes he speaks them in a language none of us understand.”
“Can anyone?”
“Yeah. But we have to have a bunch of outsiders here when he does it on purpose—and Master Sabrai is sooooooo grouchy when that happens.” As she spoke she looked over her shoulder, in search of a glimpse of that master. Then she leaned in. “Do you want to see my room?”
* * *
There was no way that the Tha’alani would say no, although Tobi had the uneasy feeling, given the conversation that preceded the invitation, that no was the right answer. “We don’t want to get you in trouble,” he told her, lowering his voice to a whisper. Whispers, on the other hand, were hard for Tha’alani children. They had, of course, learned to speak out loud in their version of schooling, but they didn’t see the point in the activity on most days.
It was like trying to communicate poorly on purpose. It was a frustrating activity. This was the first time that any of the three had seen the use for, the practical necessity of, those lessons. But even so, they knew there was a better way to communicate with Random.
Years of admonitions prevented the attempt.
Severn felt uneasy and realized that it was Ybelline’s response, mirroring his own.
This happened at least two decades ago. Closer to three, I think. There’s nothing here that can harm you. And nothing here that can harm them now.
He felt her agreement. He had stated facts plainly, facts she knew better than he. The blend of discomfort and fact still remained. He thought he knew why. But he followed the three children who were only a memory as they followed Random. She stayed on the second floor, but moved away from the paintings and the open hall, into a narrower hallway, one that had doors on either side of the wall.
The rooms weren’t numbered; no nameplates distinguished their owners, if they had owners at all. Random put her palm in the center of one door. Her hand glowed a pale blue as light flared beneath it.
Names weren’t necessary. The door was warded.
None of the fief buildings that Severn had sought temporary shelter in had had door wards. He was grateful for the lack; he had a suspicion that even if these halls were abandoned, the wards would continue to prevent entry for as long as the doors remained standing.
He’d have to remember to ask what happened to door wards if someone used brute physical force to open the doors they were placed on.
It depends on the ward, Ybelline replied.
As both adults reviewing these memories—living on the inside of them—suspected, Random was at her most furtive, her most obviously worried, once the door was unlocked. She spun her head up and down the length of the hall so quickly she should have been motion sick, and then proceeded to shove them through the open door. She entered in a rush and shut the door firmly.
The Tha’alani weren’t even afraid. They understood her actions: she was trying to prevent being caught doing something she shouldn’t be doing. Since they didn’t see themselves as dangerous, and their activities thus far couldn’t be considered criminal, they assumed she was breaking normal adult rules—the ones that mostly made no sense to apply to someone who wasn’t adult yet.
They were only almost adult in their own minds, but Random was, or appeared to be, of an age with them. And Random was an Oracle, both anointed by fate and simultaneously as human as they.
They forgot even these thoughts as she spoke two words and the room was bathed in light. This was magic. It wasn’t as mythical as an oracle—they’d all seen light when no sunlight shone and no lamps had been lit—but it was not a magic they themselves had invoked.
Was she a mage as well as an Oracle? Tessa thought it unfair.