Chapter 15

15

Killian was, as Mandoran said, standing in the quad. Students also occupied the benches and the stretches of flat grass closest to the trees; the sun had begun its rise, but hadn't fully crested the horizon, and Killian seemed to stand framed by the rising sun, as if the buildings that should have blocked it were simple mirages.

But the people in the quad weren't.

Kaylin wasn't. Hope was tense, which was never a good sign. "Let's jog," she told her companions; Severn had already picked up the pace.

Killian stood, arms by his sides, as if he were a statue; he only moved when they were perhaps ten yards away. His eyes were completely black; Kaylin was certain there were small flecks of iridescent color in that darkness, but at this distance they couldn't be seen.

When she reached Killian's side, he nodded. "I apologize for my appearance," he said, glancing briefly at Hope.

"Has something gone wrong? Is there trouble at the Academia?"

"There is, as yet, no trouble at the Academia."

"Then why are you standing here?"

"I was told to wait for you. The chancellor mentioned that Corporal Handred would be accompanying you; he did not mention Lord Emmerian or Mandoran."

"Should they not be here?"

"I am certain he will accept Lord Emmerian without reservation. Mandoran's presence is not necessary; Serralyn will be present."

"Will it be unacceptable?" Mandoran asked.

Killian didn't breathe, so he didn't have to exhale; the exhalation was an affectation. "Come." He gestured. "The students will not see you as you traverse the halls."

The chancellor was in his office; he was pacing, hands behind his back, as the door vanished at Killian's command. His eyes were an unfortunate shade of orange—dark enough to be mistaken for red in poor lighting.

"Don't stand there gaping, come in. Quickly."

Serralyn wasn't in the office.

"Serralyn is in the library," Killian informed Kaylin, although she knew better than to ask, given the chancellor's apparent mood. "We expect much of the discussion will be held in the library. Arbiter Androsse is perhaps unsettled."

"What about Starrante?"

"Arbiter Starrante is tense. Having students present calms him, which is the reason Serralyn is not here to greet you." Killian then turned to the chancellor. "Do you wish to brief them before we join the Arbiters?"

Kaylin put up a hand.

"You are not in a classroom, Corporal."

"Yes, sir. But I'd like a bit of a briefing before we head to the library, and I have a couple of questions I'd like answered. If Androsse—"

"Arbiter Androsse."

"Fine. If Arbiter Androsse is upset, is he angry? Nervous? And if he's either, is Arbiter Kavallac in agreement with him?"

"They are, surprisingly, of one mind in this instance. As is Arbiter Starrante. What did you do to the Keeper?"

"I didn't do anything to the Keeper. Azoria's former home did. And if Azoria is going to be mentioned, the two Arbiters may fall into loud disagreement. Arbiter Kavallac didn't approve of Arbiter Androsse's encouragement of young, then student Azoria."

"Very well. You have asked one question. What are the others?"

"Is Bellusdeo aware of the difficulty the Arbiters now believe they're facing?"

The chancellor exhaled smoke. "Not exactly, no. She did visit yesterday evening to inform me of the events that occurred with regard to the Keeper. She had, as I'm certain you're aware, other concerns, and while she recognizes the import of the Keeper, it is not as visceral a demand on her attention as it would otherwise be.

"I am not certain Bellusdeo is aware of the existence of the corpse of an Ancient." Or wasn't certain she cared.

Kaylin bowed her head for a moment; she understood why Bellusdeo was driven to learn more about the ghosts of her sisters. But the living, at the moment, demanded more attention from Kaylin. "Bellusdeo is with Helen and Mrs. Erickson now. And possibly the weird ghosts that are the entire reason Mrs. Erickson has to live with us by Imperial dictate."

"Very well. Killianas."

"Chancellor."

"Please make certain we have an unencumbered path to the library and inform the Arbiters that we are on the way."

If by unencumbered the chancellor meant no students, Killian managed that well. If he meant no other people, he was going to be disappointed. A familiar scholar was waiting, arms folded, by the library portal. Professor Larrantin. His eyes were very blue.

The chancellor said, "The library is closed for the day."

"Indeed. My attempts to confer with you about the closure were stymied by Killianas. I therefore chose to wait here."

"You will be informed when the library is once again open to visitors." The chancellor's tone would have caused Kaylin to take a step back. Or several. Preferably at a sprint.

"I heard a rumor that this particular meeting is of grave concern." Larrantin did not step back at all. "And it is a meeting I have an interest in attending."

Mandoran frowned. "He didn't hear that from us." Us being the members of the cohort. "Oh, wait." After a brief pause, and a visible wince, Mandoran added, "Or maybe he did. He wanted to know why Serralyn was absent from class. Valliant didn't want to volunteer the information. Larrantin created an invisible but impassable box around Valliant until he did want to volunteer that information. No torture was used."

"We will discuss your methods of handling our students when this is over," the chancellor said. "The Arbiters have not summoned you, nor have they invited you."

"I believe they will nonetheless accept my presence." In Kaylin's opinion, this was likely; Larrantin was the only member of the Academia who had taught here before the Academia's fall and had been here when it had at last rumbled back to life.

"You are not under the opinion that you are the chancellor, surely?"

"Not at all. Had I desired the broadly bureaucratic role, I would have applied."

Kaylin lifted a hand. "Guys, we have a little bit of an emergency. We don't need to reenact the hostilities of two of the Arbiters in the hallway."

"No one else will see or hear the argument," Killian pointed out.

"Doesn't stop our time being wasted."

Both the chancellor and the professor turned glares in Kaylin's direction; her time was clearly irrelevant.

"We don't know where Evanton is. I'm going to stop by his store to see Grethan, to let him know that we're searching, and to see how stable the garden is. I can't do that until this meeting is over."

Lord Emmerian nodded. "The Academia is yours, chancellor; I am certain Professor Larrantin acknowledges this fact. He was venerated as a scholar. He may have some light to shed, and we are in growing need of that light. Lannagaros, please."

The chancellor's eyes were orange. He closed them for a moment, and when he opened them again, he'd lifted the inner eye membrane to somewhat mute the color. "Very well."

The library door was a fraud; it was a portal. It was, today, a clever portal in that it mimicked a door properly; when the door was opened, Kaylin could see the library's occupants on the other side. Serralyn was standing in front of Starrante, her eyes blue, not their usual green. Androsse and Kavallac were standing to the left and right of Starrante. No one appeared to be speaking.

The chancellor entered the library first. Kaylin, Severn, and Mandoran followed.

"Larrantin wishes to join us, but of course requires your permission," the chancellor said.

The three Arbiters glanced at each other before nodding. Only then did Larrantin follow, with Emmerian joining him.

Kaylin wondered what would have happened if the Arbiters said no.

Killian waited on the far side of the door; she lost sight of him when the doors closed—although closed wasn't the right word; the doorframe faded.

Silence reigned until the chancellor broke it by clearing his throat. "You have requested the presence of the corporal at her earliest convenience; the Imperial Court has decided her earliest convenience is now. To my understanding, you were furthering your research on Necromancy, with an eye to the quieting of ghosts; this is considered of vital import to my kind."

"I was not researching Necromancy," Androsse said. "I was researching the Ancients, with a particular eye to their deaths. I understand the deaths of the Immortals, being one; we have eternity—but we are subject to war, to poison, and to the ambitions that might lead to them. We all have an understanding of death, for all of our kind can die in the correct circumstances. We have certainly seen our share of corpses.

"It has been said that Ancients pass away—even in our time, before the fall of Ravellon , this was accepted as fact. But our greatest scholars, those who chose to devote their lives to a study of the Ancients, could not likewise claim to have seen their corpses; their passing was marked by their sudden absence. The Ancients did not consent to a more rigorous study.

"The corporal suggested that such a corpse did exist, and further, that Azoria had access to it for a period of time whose measure we cannot take."

Kaylin nodded.

"Yet you, who are not a Necromancer, could speak with the dead."

She nodded again. "By any standard that I understand, the Ancient was not dead. By their own standards, he was. He could speak. He could move the clouds of the outlands at will; he could create a space that better suited him. While he was considered dead—to himself—he could be trapped and was. I'm not sure he was entirely aware of it."

"Yes. You said he defined death as the end of purpose."

"That's what I inferred, yes."

"But you believe Azoria was drawing—or attempting to draw—power from the corpse."

"Yes."

"Do you believe the dead Ancient conversed with Azoria at any point in time?"

How would she know? She started to say this but stopped. Azoria had been looking for Mrs. Erickson for a long time. The Barrani Arcanist had planted roots in Mrs. Erickson's house—and spies, although she lost control of the children when their physical bodies died. She had already drained power—and life—from a dozen Barrani. Much of her research was centered around power.

To Kaylin's knowledge, that power didn't normally involve the dead—it just caused a lot of them.

She was certain Azoria knew or suspected something about Mrs. Erickson. She'd met Mrs. Erickson's mother. Had she done something to the baby before Mrs. Erickson was born?

Had she realized that if she had control of that power, she could command the dead? Or was it a gamble? Kaylin didn't consider the Ancient to actually be dead. But if Azoria had, everything about her interaction with Mrs. Erickson made sense.

Jamal and the children had stopped seeing Azoria when the connection between their bodies and their souls had been severed by death. Azoria could no longer see them and could no longer summon them.

But Mrs. Erickson's first manifestation of power—if one didn't include seeing the children at all—had happened when she was quite young; some of the ghosts might still have been trapped by Azoria. She didn't want to do the math immediately, but the children hadn't become ghosts at the same time.

Larrantin turned to Kaylin. "We have received a report about the incident surrounding the Keeper. Do you understand why he felt it was necessary to visit Mrs. Erickson's home?"

"He said the elements in the garden had been restless and ill at ease for a couple of weeks. He wasn't certain why; the last time they were restless in this fashion, we narrowly avoided losing our world to the Devourer. He hates socializing and very seldom leaves his store, but he insisted on visiting Mrs. Erickson's home after hearing about our first visit to Azoria's part of it. He wanted me to accompany them.

"Bellusdeo volunteered to join us. Terrano, Serralyn, and Mandoran represented the cohort. Bakkon asked permission to join Serralyn, although they'll have to speak for themselves with regard to their exploration." She glanced at Severn, who shrugged. "You were there. Do you want to add anything?"

"If the corporal wishes to add details you've forgotten to mention, I invite him to do so," the chancellor said. "Until and unless this occurs, allow Larrantin to continue."

Kaylin's turn to shrug.

Larrantin didn't appear to notice the minor interruption. "Did the Keeper feel that he had found the cause of, or source of, the elemental unrest?"

She thought about this, cursing mortal memory. "Yes, I believe so. Or at least he thought something present justified that unrest."

"Until your interference in Azoria's manor, and her figurative backyard, his garden was relatively stable?"

"That's what I inferred."

"Understand, then, that the unrest in the garden is significant."

Since she'd already mentioned the possible end of the world the previous time the garden had been unruly, she found this condescending—but that was Larrantin all over.

The chancellor, aware of her irritation, lifted a brow in her direction. "You have been involved in many near disasters, but only one was enough to shake the garden."

"The elemental water was involved in a couple of those disasters. And it wasn't me that upset the water."

Larrantin was not a man accustomed to being interrupted. He was the one who did the interrupting, if he deemed it necessary. His tone was chillier when he spoke again. "Did the Keeper say a specific element was involved?"

"No."

"It is the Keeper's job to keep the wild elements from clashing; to keep the garden serene for its occupants. The Keeper has not—to our knowledge—returned from Azoria's manor."

"No. I intend to check in with his apprentice after we're done here to make sure he hasn't returned without informing us." She exhaled.

"Before you consider my branch of research irrelevant, we are looking at the possibility of a dead Ancient, a mortal woman who has the power to bespeak the dead, and to command them."

"I don't recall that last part."

It was Androsse who replied. Larrantin minded his interruption far less. "Mortal memory is not that fallible. Azoria would have had no interest in a mortal woman were it not for the manifestation of a very rare—and largely useless—power. Azoria's research while she was a student here did not directly cover Necromancy. Her research after the fall of Berranin obviously touched on it. She is dead, but her journals have not yet appeared on our shelves; we have been watching."

"Wait, notebooks written somewhere else by a dead person become part of the library?"

"Yes, but not all of them, and not in a specific order."

"And you can find them?" Kaylin considered the diaries of every single human who kept one and wondered how the library wasn't collapsing in on itself.

"Finding them, as you put it, is somewhat arcane. We have the abilities, but it takes time, and we are not guaranteed to succeed."

"You're not suggesting we go back there, are you?"

"I believe Serralyn has something to say," Androsse replied.

Serralyn clearly didn't want to say anything. Starrante's arms danced on either side of her, although he didn't touch her; Kaylin assumed this was meant as a Wevaran gesture of comfort or solidarity. The Barrani cohort student was perfectly happy to talk for hours about things she was studying, but had otherwise always been quiet.

She took a steadying breath. "Bakkon wanted to visit Azoria's manor; he felt that there was something about the environment that reminded him of his pre-birth home. I didn't see the harm in it—Azoria was dead. There might have been security enchantments meant to discourage intruders, but Bakkon felt he could deal with those in a way that didn't compromise our safety." She swallowed.

"Did you encounter traps?" It was Severn who asked, his voice so measured and neutral it had a calming effect. Kaylin had never, come to think, seen Severn lose his temper.

"No."

"But you did find something."

She swallowed and nodded. "The paintings Azoria made—the paintings Kaylin and Terrano examined in the archives of the High Halls—were improved on in Azoria's home. She had an entirely separate lab and a series of smaller, research-dependent libraries housed around a large room for practical experiments."

"You found more of her paintings."

"We found more of her paintings in various stages; we assumed that they were not yet complete."

"Did Bakkon note anything unusual?"

"He said the halls outside of her personal research area were very much like the birthing halls of his memory—not in shape, but in feel, in the density of...something. I couldn't sense it; Terrano couldn't see it. I'm not sure if it's something specifically related to Wevaran. But he felt that these halls had been created to serve, in some fashion, a similar purpose. They weren't exact, but Azoria was Barrani; she didn't understand the whole of Wevaran birth.

"Had she access by that time to Barrani—or Dragons, or Ancestors—Bakkon might have had a better sense of what she meant to do. He therefore pinpoints the discovery of the dead Ancient as the probable point at which she abandoned the research she had obviously attempted to enact with regard to the Wevaran names.

"But Bakkon feels it quite possible that she intended to take Barrani True Names, and somehow introduce them into the birthing canal environment as a way of increasing the stature and power of her own name."

"That is not possible," Starrante said, clicking, his visible eyes red.

"Nothing about Azoria depended on possible. We didn't have time to go through her research materials with any deliberate care. I did attempt to remove one journal for future study."

"Attempt?"

"The book would not leave the area. It was teleported back to its original resting place. We could read the books, move the books, reorganize the journals—but we couldn't remove them." She hesitated and then added, "I'm not sure you'll find any of them in the library, no matter how carefully you look. She wasn't worried about her knowledge dying with her—I think she was arrogant enough to believe she was never going to die.

"She was clearly concerned that the research might be stolen." Serralyn exhaled. "In the lab, I said we found unfinished paintings. In some central images existed, and in some cases sketches hadn't been transferred to a painted medium. There were paintings of various Barrani." Her tone was off.

It was Kaylin who picked up the questioning, although she led with a statement. "You recognized some of the Barrani. Or at least one."

Again, Serralyn hesitated before nodding. "You'd recognize her if you saw the painting. It wasn't finished, but it was closest to my eye—and the background of the painting, rather than a sitting room or a bench or grand scenery, was... I think you'd recognize it. The Barrani woman had white hair."

"The Consort."

Serralyn nodded.

"But the Consort of her time wasn't the Consort of ours—and I haven't heard that white hair is necessary. Very, very few of the Barrani have white hair."

Serralyn nodded again.

"Which meant that she had seen the current Consort, although technically she was dead and her line expunged and she couldn't therefore be in the High Halls. Was there any indication that she'd been working with or through Barrani who could legitimately enter the High Halls?"

"The occupants of the High Halls aren't confined to lords," Mandoran said. "Any of the powerful will have aides and servants, and refusing those people entry would cause a ruckus—I mean, the lords would then have to do things themselves, right? Until recently, the interior of the High Halls was focused entirely on the Shadow at the heart of the Test of Name. It's possible she could have entered as a servant and passed through undetected.

"As far as the High Halls knew, she was—along with all of Berranin—dead. I don't think she could accomplish the same thing now. Or Terrano doesn't. And given what her crime was, the High Halls would be far more guarded. The High Halls doesn't care if we assassinate each other—it's a racial pastime." This last was said with bitterness. "They're a big believer in survival of the fittest."

Kaylin held up a hand. "None of that—painting, Consort, High Halls—has anything to do with the current difficulty, at least on the surface. Did she write what she was trying to do at the end?"

"I think it highly likely," Serralyn replied. "But we didn't have time to examine her library. We were noting where we'd left off, and intended to return to it. But I heard that the Keeper had somehow become stuck to or trapped by Azoria's painting. Bakkon was alarmed. He wanted to go to the Keeper. But before we got there, we got Mandoran's panicked demand that we evacuate as soon as possible. And when we had, we got the news that neither Terrano nor the Keeper had made it out."

"I'm not sure we can get to the research area without entering the rest of the manse."

Serralyn cleared her throat. "Bakkon believes, if we can open the door again, we can. He...left strategically placed bits of webbing to which he could create a portal."

"What catches my notice," Arbiter Androsse said, "is Mrs. Erickson herself. It is clear to me that she was the crown jewel in Azoria's plans. Azoria's failure to understand that a handful of mortal decades takes a deadly toll on mortals is understandable. But Mrs. Erickson is still alive, and if those plans did not come to fruition, understanding those plans may reveal more about the mortal's powers."

Kavallac was orange-eyed. "It was to determine her potential powers that we first began our research, but I am not at all certain, given the length of a mortal life, that this is now a safe or even fruitful endeavor."

Androsse nodded. "What we need to ascertain is the state—and power—of a theoretically dead Ancient. A mortal's power is trivial in comparison."

Kaylin sat on her knee-jerk annoyance.

Starrante, however, disagreed. "We cannot simply discard the question of Mrs. Erickson. Nor can we discard the implications of the spells Azoria wove to somehow capture or possess her. They are woven into the research on the dead Ancient, the creation of the interior of her manor, the existence of the paintings themselves. It is clear to me, from things Terrano has discovered, that those paintings—for Mrs. Erickson—were rooted in some fashion in the distant green of the West March, one of the centers of the powers of the Ancient world. It was not disrupted when Ravellon fell; nor was it lost to us, as so much of that world and its history has been.

"We understand that Azoria's assumptions about Mrs. Erickson's potential powers could have been entirely mistaken; she might have labored in ignorance—a trait Azoria was prone to dismiss if she felt she knew better, unless she changed greatly in the intervening years between student and what she later became.

"It is likely that Mrs. Erickson could relieve Bellusdeo of the ghosts of whom she was entirely unaware."

Kavallac did not like this suggestion. At all. "They are not—they should not be—dead. They are, or should be, part of a cohesive whole."

Androsse shrugged. "I am not remotely certain a Necromancer deals in the half-dead, the should-be-dead, or the should-not-be-dead philosophical questions. Mrs. Erickson's powers do not seem, from admittedly poor research material, to be able to bring the dead back to a semblance of life.

"Nor do her powers seem to be the world-shattering emergency the Keeper seemed to sense when he entered Azoria's manse. If we are to ascertain the Keeper's whereabouts—if he is even still alive—it is on the dead Ancient that we must concentrate. To do that, Bakkon must be allowed to further explore the sealed-off manse. Serralyn may accompany him; I expect a full report of all findings."

The chancellor exhaled loudly enough Kaylin almost expected to see fire. "The students are not your personal servants, Arbiter. Their disposition is not in your hands; their reports are, unless they voluntarily share them, likewise not under your supervision. What might be is your experience with Azoria An'Berranin—experience which you have yet to fully detail.

"Given the likelihood of finding the journals and papers of this particular dead student within the domain of the library, it is your discussions that might provide us the most insight; you interacted with her when she was alive. Perhaps you might prepare a report detailing those interactions before we commit students to a dangerous and unknown environment."

Barrani Ancestral eyes were very much like Barrani eyes in the colors they adopted. Androsse's were almost black.

Fair enough; the chancellor's were almost crimson, Kavallac's were heading that way, and Starrante's had become red at the mention of birthing spaces and hadn't really recovered.

Serralyn lifted a hand. Larrantin nodded in her direction, as if this was just a fractious classroom and she was the only person present he considered worthy of granting permission to speak. It wasn't a surprise that she therefore addressed her words to a familiar professor.

"You taught Azoria, didn't you?"

"I did. Two advanced classes."

"Which ones?"

"Spatial dimension—which is currently on hiatus given the lack of qualified students to teach—and portal actualization. The latter is being offered next year. I was not her only teacher."

"Did she discuss your subjects with you?"

"At some length—but Azoria was interested in everything. She wasn't pretending; she wasn't attempting to curry favor through flattery; she was literally interested in everything. In that aspect, Serralyn, she is similar to you—although perhaps less delighted and more focused in learning every iota of knowledge of those who possessed more than she. She embodied the phrase knowledge is power . She was not particularly social; if Barrani have eternity, she considered time, always, of the essence. She would not waste it on something she felt served no useful purpose."

"Did she have peers she considered worthy of her time?"

"Not that I observed—but I spent little time observing the social affairs of students; they were not my concern. Nor are they my concern now; I am perhaps more aware of you because Terrano loiters around you." An odd smile touched Larrantin's face. "Had Terrano been a contemporary of Azoria, I believe she would have made every attempt to befriend him."

Serralyn grimaced. "She wouldn't."

"I assure you his unusual use of magic and his flexibility with dimensional space would have been of great interest to her."

"What she would have expected from Terrano, he could never give her. He's not blindly obedient, even when facing probable death. And he's a terrible teacher. The only way she could have learned from him is to become one of us."

"She seldom accepted limitations."

"Yes. That's the problem." Serralyn's frown was unusual for her. "Killian won't speak of his experience with Azoria to anyone but you. If Arbiter Androsse is to write a report—and Arbiter Starrante as well—you should ask Killian to give you a verbal report while they're working."

Given the chancellor's mood—and the color of his eyes—Kaylin was almost shocked that Serralyn could make this demand of him. He turned the red eyes on one of his prized students, his lips compressing. Serralyn didn't even blink.

"Killian will not talk to any of us about anything he might know; his imperative is to protect the privacy of his students—even the dead ones. He will talk to you if you command it."

Kavallac had swiveled toward Serralyn; Starrante's arms had fallen still.

"If we don't understand what Azoria built, we might not be able to find Terrano. He's still not back." She folded her arms, her eyes blue, the set of her jaw stiff. She had no intention of backing down—she, who avoided confrontation, and who tried, as much as any Barrani Kaylin had ever met, to make nice, to project happiness or joy.

"I love the Academia. I love being a student here. I mostly respect my professors, and I would spend every waking hour between classes in this library. But something just as important to me will break if we lose Terrano. Whatever we have to do to find him, we'll do." She exhaled, and her shoulders—rigid while speaking—slowly crept back down.

"I'm willing to go back to Azoria's manor. I'm willing to spend every waking hour there, instead of here. I'm willing to find any information her journals might contain. I'm even willing to attempt to transcribe them, but I doubt that will work.

"I'm not willing to go there without the chancellor's permission. I'm not willing to risk the life I love here." She turned to the chancellor; she had failed to directly address Androsse, the Arbiter who had demanded that she return to run his errand.

When facing the chancellor, her eyes lightened enough that green flecks could be seen in the blue. "I trust you with as much of our lives as you can preserve. But I also trust you understand just how important this might be, or become.

"I'm guessing that if we find Terrano, we'll find the Keeper—but we can't find either if we don't understand what the space is, what it was meant to be, and what it might have devolved to with Azoria's death."