Chapter 19

19

Serralyn smiled at the chancellor, green returning to her eyes, although blue remained the predominant color. "This place is incredibly important to me. I know it's not as important as it is to you—but it's probably as close as a non-Dragon can get."

To Kaylin's surprise, the chancellor smiled, his eyes losing some of their red. "I know. While Terrano is not technically a student—and I would never approve any application he chose to make—I admit my grudging tolerance of his presence has grown into a thorny affection. Go, and return safely."

She closed her eyes briefly. Opened them again and nodded.

Kaylin did not get told to return safely but didn't resent the lack; she was a Hawk here.

"Corporal Neya," the chancellor said, as if he could hear the thought. "I expect that you will not take Bellusdeo with you, unless it is imperative that Mrs. Erickson also attend. I consider both of their presences to be unnecessary at this stage; until some determinations have been made, the risk is too high.

"Lord Emmerian, however, can serve in her stead, should the strength of a Dragon be required." He turned to Emmerian.

Emmerian, silent as he almost always was, nodded. Kaylin had always been surprised by Emmerian's ability to disappear in a crowd; it was a knack she didn't have, even when she forced herself to keep her mouth shut.

The chancellor, half glaring in Kaylin's direction, continued. "Lord Emmerian is not a member of the Academia in any fashion. We are both, however, servants of the Eternal Emperor, and I have known the Emperor for a very long time.

"Arbiters, we will take our leave of the library. Should there be information of note uncovered after our departure, please send immediate word."

The three Arbiters nodded. Starrante placed one limb on Serralyn's left shoulder, as if he wanted to physically hold her in place. He hadn't argued with the chancellor's decision, but it was clear his reservations were far stronger.

Then again, Starrante—a being whose existence depended on his ability to devour his siblings—had always been the softest of the Arbiters. Serralyn briefly touched that limb, patting it as if it weren't chitin. "Bakkon isn't you," she said, voice soft, "but he's far more accustomed to shepherding mortals and keeping them safe. He lives in the Tower of Liatt."

"As you are not a mortal, you should be far easier to protect." Kaylin thought his attempt at reassurance was actually meant for himself, not Serralyn, but Serralyn nodded as he let go of her shoulder.

They returned to the chancellor's office. The room was a slightly different shape, but this was explained by the appearance of Bakkon. Given the color of the Wevaran's eyes, Bakkon was not in a great mood. He clicked his way through a few sentences, and then readjusted his language.

"My apologies. I've been speaking with my kin in Liatt."

Serralyn nodded.

"Have you received the chancellor's permission to return?"

"She has," the chancellor replied, before Serralyn could. "Understand that she is almost as valuable as Liatt's heir."

"Yes. I understand. Starrante has made this quite clear. If Serralyn is fatally injured, I will have to avoid visits to the Academia for the foreseeable future."

Serralyn winced but smiled. "I'm sure he'll understand."

"Oh, so am I. He will understand I have utterly failed in my most important charge."

The Barrani student laughed then, her eyes shifting in color so that they were almost entirely green.

The chancellor cleared his throat. "Bakkon, there will be, as happened the first time, two different exploratory parties. You will, once again, be with Serralyn, and you will return to the research area, where you will attempt to uncover information about the elements that comprise the external halls.

"The three Hawks—"

"Four," Tain said.

"The four Hawks, then. The four Hawks, Lord Emmerian, and Larrantin will attempt to find Evanton and Terrano."

Kaylin nodded. Hope squawked.

The chancellor frowned, no doubt at Hope's commentary. "Very well. Bakkon, we require you to follow your thread back to the research area, but you must create a portal that everyone can use. Hope feels it is safest to enter the rest of the manse from the research area; he is not certain that Mrs. Erickson's front door will open to Azoria's former abode. Evanton understood some of the enchantment, and he could manipulate it to gain entry; I am not certain that anyone present can accomplish that."

Larrantin coughed.

The chancellor ignored him.

Bakkon clicked, the sound slight and rhythmic. "Yes. Yes, I can do that. But if the door cannot be safely used, and they cannot return to the research area, they, too, might be trapped."

"The door works from the inside," Kaylin told the Wevaran. "Or it did when we left; it's how we escaped."

"And if it does not?"

"Then we'll have to find another way out." She folded her arms.

"Kitling," Teela said. "He has not refused the chancellor's request; he merely wishes us to be apprised of the possible danger. I am certain the chancellor understands that we are Hawks and adults, but should anyone be that risk averse, they may remain here." Her tone implied that no further conversation or debate was necessary. Or acceptable.

The chancellor agreed.

Bakkon therefore exhaled—loudly—and began to spit webbing. Kaylin had seen this before but still found it disturbing. The Wevaran said he was connected to Serralyn for the duration of this investigation; she wondered if the connection, established the first time they'd entered Azoria's manor, had persisted. If it did, Serralyn wasn't uncomfortable with it.

Bakkon had left strands of Wevaran silk in the lab; he could follow that back or create a portal round it. He did this, lifting his forelimbs as if to anchor what he'd woven in place. "Step through," he told them all. "I will close the portal when you've reached your destination." To the chancellor, he added, "I will not take the risk of leaving the portal open; I cannot confirm that the protections in place in the research area will hold."

The chancellor nodded. "You can, of course, return without it."

"Yes. And I can bring Serralyn with me, as we will be together."

"Lord Emmerian," the chancellor said.

Emmerian nodded and went through the portal. When no immediate sound of alarm or combat came back, Teela and Tain entered; Kaylin and Severn followed. The portal was one way—Kaylin could turn and see a brightly lit room at her back. And Larrantin, who arrived before she'd fully turned.

When Bakkon appeared, Serralyn was on his back.

"Are you certain you will not remain to sift through her papers and spells?" Bakkon asked the scholar. Larrantin looked torn. "It is likely to be faster with your expertise."

"I believe my expertise, such as it is, might be of value in our attempt to find and retrieve the Keeper," Larrantin finally replied.

Bakkon accepted this. "We found an entrance from the hall we traversed—it was not the hall in which the Keeper's examination was conducted. There is no reason why that entrance should not work. Come, I will take you there."

Azoria had clearly been careful to protect the area in which she had crafted the theories she put to use from the experiments themselves; Bakkon's lead was slow, careful, and frequently interrupted. Hope stood on Kaylin's head; he'd abandoned the lizard-shawl position when they'd entered the library and remained on high alert. Larrantin conversed with Bakkon, usually when Bakkon stopped to test the air—or the enchantments Kaylin could only barely perceive on the floors or walls. In other words, everything. Larrantin, not exactly a font of patience, had pretty much chewed through all his by the time Bakkon found the exit, such as it was.

"I want you to be careful," Bakkon finally snapped.

"Not everyone present is Immortal," Larrantin snapped back. "And the world without marks mortal time. We do not have the time to examine every tiny detail on the way—that is your duty, not ours."

"It is not the details here that will doom you." Bakkon's voice grew louder, more grating. "What rules, Larrantin? What rules bind the dead?"

Larrantin's lips were compressed, his eyes an irritated blue. "The dead have no need of rules."

"The dead are everywhere in Azoria's space. You did not feel it; you did not see it. The dead are present, and they demand respect. You are reckless, rude, inconsiderate at best, but you are accompanied by those who are not. I ask that you step with care, speak with care—if you speak at all; I would not recommend it."

"And will you have all communication borne by children?"

"No, Larrantin. By the Chosen. It is my opinion—and we have so little research with which to confirm it—that this dead, this Ancient, speaks and wakes because of the Chosen, for good or ill. An Ancient's power is not a power that is meant for us. Do not touch it."

"Can we leave now? I am no longer a student in some inescapable class, and we are very short on time."

Bakkon's eyes were red and in motion, but he walked toward one alcove—there were eight—on the curve of the wall. He paused in front of Kaylin, his forelegs passing above her head in a brief, sharp dance. "Do not get lost. But if you do, if you cannot prevent it, stay still; I may be able to find you."

"Bakkon," Larrantin said, the two syllables almost an angry shout.

Bakkon growled. It was a very low sound, but unbroken by the usual clicks. Lifting three of his limbs, he began to trace a pattern in the air; Kaylin's arm hair instantly stood on end. She could see a shimmering between the two smaller pillars that punctuated the alcove. Ugh. Portal.

"Kitling."

Kaylin had said nothing and tried not to resent the correction. Portals nauseated her, but she used them when it was necessary; it was necessary now.

Teela cursed in genial Leontine and held out a hand. It was empty. "Take it," the Barrani Hawk said. "We don't want to lose you in transit."

Oh. Kaylin felt like a foundling, didn't like it, and accepted it. She took Teela's hand. Emmerian then passed into the portal. Larrantin followed. Teela dragged Kaylin through, leaving Severn and Tain to pull up the rear.

Kaylin had forgotten how much physical contact with someone real eased portal passage. She was immediately disoriented as she entered—she expected that—but because Teela was an anchor, she could close her eyes. Portal space wasn't one thing or the other; it wasn't consistent. Had it been, she thought she could have trained herself to endure it. But no. Sometimes it was very much like the gray, roiling clouds of the outlands; sometimes it was like walking into the chaos of Shadow; sometimes it was like a blurry landscape, where every single element was subtly wrong.

It was the almost real objects that were always the worst; they held the outline of a familiar shape—a building, a road, a harbor—but not the constant solidity; outlines blurred, or worse, the interiors of the shape, as if they were bleeding their essential nature onto the path she had to walk. They moved, unanchored, coming to rest before leaping away; she became instantly dizzy. At best.

Is this taking longer than usual? she asked Severn, her eyes closed.

Severn's reply felt fuzzy, and attenuated. It seems to be. He didn't ask how she was holding up; he knew. She clutched Teela's hand tightly.

Chosen. Chosen, come. I have been waiting for your return.

That wasn't Severn. It wasn't any of her namebound, most of whom had been remarkably quiet in the past weeks.

Severn? Severn—did you hear that?

I heard it because you heard it. I did not hear it myself. "An'Teela, hold on to her. Something is speaking to her here."

She heard the words echo, reverberate, become sharper with each iteration.

CHOSEN.

Kaylin stumbled; the ground beneath her feet became suddenly, treacherously soft; she sank into it up to her knees. Teela didn't sink beside her; the angle of the hand crushing Kaylin's rose as Kaylin fell. Leontine followed as Teela pulled Kaylin up—or tried.

Severn would have grabbed her free hand, but he could no longer see her.

She opened her eyes. She could see Teela, but Teela seemed to be spinning in place; she was shouting in slow motion, but her words were so distorted, Kaylin couldn't make sense of them.

Squawk! Squawk!

The marks on her arms were glowing and rising through the cloth that habitually covered them. She closed her eyes to better study them; she'd always been able to see the marks with closed eyes. She couldn't pronounce them; couldn't discern their meaning without the combination of pressure and effort. But when they were spoken, she could recognize the language.

She heard it now: loud, deep, a throng of deliberate syllables. It took her a moment to realize she also recognized the speaker's voice: Emmerian. Emmerian was intoning syllables of a True Word.

The ground released her; Teela pulled her up, and she found her footing, but had very little chance to steady her feet. Teela began to sprint, pulling Kaylin, stumbling, behind her.

Emmerian roared again, draconic voice enwrapping syllables that she felt almost as a physical blow. Teela put on a burst of speed that Kaylin thought would dislocate her arm, and then she landed on solid ground.

She opened her eyes immediately. Emmerian had transformed; he was a blue Dragon, his head raised. Larrantin hadn't transformed, but he was glowing faintly; his eyes were so dark they looked black. Tain and Teela sported the regular variant of dark blue. Severn offered Kaylin a hand up; when he did, Teela let go.

Kaylin's hand was numb.

"What," Larrantin demanded, "were you trying to do?"

"Walk through a portal," Kaylin replied, the words a bit clipped.

"That is not what you were doing!"

"It is what she believes she was doing," Teela said, before Larrantin could continue. She turned to face the Dragon. "I believe your intervention allowed her to complete her passage."

Emmerian nodded, lowering his head to look down at Kaylin.

Squawk.

Or to look down at Hope. Emmerian roared in his native tongue; Hope replied in squawks, which clearly meant more to the Dragon than they did to Kaylin.

She turned to Hope. "Talk to him farther from my ear."

Hope bit her ear, but not hard enough to draw blood, as Kaylin's vision finally cleared.

To Kaylin's surprise, the rough shape of a hall had been maintained. She could see what she thought of as a foyer in the distance; the hall was wide, the ceilings intimidatingly high. Beneath her feet, however, the floor had given way to dirt, and the half pillars of marble that punctuated alcoves had been replaced by trees. Trees the color of marble, although to touch, they were bark.

She blinked several times and turned to her partner. Forgot what she was going to say when she saw he'd armed himself with the weapons that defined him in Barrani eyes. She never asked about the weapons and didn't ask now. Severn thought they would, or could, be necessary. She didn't really need to know more.

Hope didn't relax; he hopped across her shoulder, neck stretched; she half expected him to jump off and transform. These halls were wide enough to contain the larger, draconic form—but maybe two would be pushing it. Emmerian was still a Dragon.

"I am astonished," Larrantin said, as they began to walk toward what had once been a foyer, "that your companions treat this occurrence as if it were mundane, normal weather. Do you have no training at all?"

"Training in what?" Kaylin countered, annoyed. Teela wasn't giving her the stink eye, but long acquaintance with the Barrani Hawk made clear she would have, if Larrantin hadn't been condescending first.

"Magic," Larrantin snapped, in the same tone of voice he might have said breathing . "As it is, you are a clear and present danger to any who happen to be in your vicinity. What did you think you were doing?"

"I told you—crossing a portal."

Larrantin didn't bother with the mask of professional Barrani neutrality; he was incensed. As Kaylin was clearly far too stupid to carry the full weight of his ire, he turned to Teela. "Could you not have offered warning to those of us who have some mastery?"

"Kaylin has always had difficulty with portals." Teela did speak as if she were talking about the weather. Her tone was deliberately polite. "It is not entirely predictable, and I consider it a win that she is not now retching her last meal all over my feet."

"An'Teela—you cannot be so ignorant as to assume that this is normal!"

"It is normal for Kaylin. We are uncertain that this difficulty did not arise from the marks of the Chosen; to our admittedly poor knowledge, humans have never been granted the marks before."

"Mortals have not."

"They have," Kaylin snapped, thinking of the Tha'alani. Thinking, and keeping that exception to herself.

"Before the marks—"

"I lived in the fiefs. I was an orphan. Do you think there were portals just lying around that I could walk through?"

"You have never walked through a portal without the marks, then?"

"No."

"Do you know what the marks entail?"

"No."

Larrantin exhaled for a long damn time. "No more do I. But you were attempting to traverse something that was not the portal path."

"Not on purpose," Kaylin finally said.

"That is what education gives you: control." His tone was supremely waspish.

"I heard words," she told him. "My marks were active."

"They are always active."

"They don't look active to me. But when they activate, they're either gold or blue. They were gold on the path." As Larrantin opened his mouth, Kaylin lifted a hand. "No, I can't read them. No, I don't know what all the words mean. The only conscious control I've always had over their power is healing."

"Healing?" Her lack of respect didn't bother Larrantin in the slightest, which made him different from almost every other teacher she'd been given.

"Healing."

"That is a very rare talent."

Kaylin shrugged. "It's the power of the marks. I never had the ability before them."

Kaylin , Severn said . Be careful now.

Of what? It's not like everyone doesn't already know.

Of Larrantin. He is now making connections between pieces of information we can't necessarily access.

What information? What could he possibly learn that wouldn't help me understand these marks?

This is not the first time you've encountered the dead. It isn't the first time you could see, sense, or communicate with them.

She nodded, thinking of Jamal.

Jamal, too. But you destroyed an object in the former Arkon's library because you could sense the dead somehow trapped within the object. You could free it. He exhaled. You felt, in that moment, that it was to finish his story that you were granted the marks of the Chosen. If the marks don't make you Mrs. Erickson—and they don't—something in them allows you to see, to interact, with some of the dead who are trapped.

She acknowledged his point about the armor in the Arkon's collection; she'd almost forgotten about the ghost who was trapped within it. Her marks had freed him. Or Kaylin had. She had told the end of his story. Had finished it. That was all he needed to be free. I think anyone could have interacted with the Ancient.

Perhaps. But, Kaylin, you woke him. Larrantin will assume that it is the power of, the purpose of, the marks. Try not to catch more of his attention.

Lannagaros isn't going to let him experiment on me.

No. This doesn't preclude Larrantin trying, regardless.

She fell silent—at least on the outside. Why have you never said any of this before?

I've always trusted your instincts.

My instincts aren't telling me to shut up, though.

I've always been cautious when they're absent. She felt the hint of a smile that never touched his face.

I can see that , she replied, giving his blades a pointed stare. Is that why you drew them? Did you mean to make Larrantin uncomfortable?

I note that they haven't.

Fine. But they're bothering Teela and Tain.

Severn offered a fief shrug.

The lead, such as it was, was taken by Emmerian, although Larrantin pushed ahead to walk by the Dragon's side. Larrantin had been trapped in the suspended world of the Academia for so long the Draco-Barrani wars had not affected his life; he had no issues with a Dragon chancellor, or a Dragon compatriot. He did have some issue with the disrespect the young showed their elders, evidence of obvious social decay—which Kaylin only knew because he had no difficulty telling Emmerian exactly that.

Emmerian, accustomed to Lannagaros and Sanabalis, accepted the criticism without apparently being affected by it at all. Kaylin envied him that.

It was Larrantin who paused beneath the first of the great trees; there were two, but beyond them, others grew in disturbingly uniform rows. The two great trees rose in towers that met in a confusion of boughs to form an arch. Kaylin froze.

"Emmerian—stop. Don't take another step!"

Between the trunks of the standing trees, she could see something dark and glittering, a miasma that reminded her very, very much of Shadow.

Emmerian stopped. Larrantin turned back to look in Kaylin's direction.

Can you see what I see?

Severn nodded. I see what you see only because you're seeing it, and I have access to it.

"Teela—can you see anything beyond these two trees?"

"More trees," Teela replied. "What do you see?"

"It looks, to my eyes, like the Shadow version of the outlands—it's a dark miasma, with glints of color."

Teela's eyes darkened. She glanced at Tain, who shook his head. Cursing loudly enough to be heard, the Barrani Hawk joined Larrantin.

"I do not see what the corporal sees." He gestured and spoke a sharp word; Kaylin felt it like a full body slap. He repeated this another four times. "I see the ground—it is similar to the ground over which we've been walking. I see more trees—but trees is perhaps not the correct word. None of my detection spells can see what she sees. If she feels this is like Shadow, she is incorrect."

"How so?" Kaylin asked.

"When Shadow threatened us all, magics were developed that might detect subtle incursions. Shadow was endlessly inventive, and endlessly evasive; our spells required both research and time to develop. We lost a fair number of scholars to such practical research.

"It is not much taught in the modern age, and it is possible that everything I know has become hopelessly outdated. The Towers were created to evolve their detections and protections, because Shadow was so transformative. Regardless, if Shadow exists beyond these pillars, I cannot see it. An'Teela?"

"I didn't have your training, but something's off in the space."

Larrantin frowned and turned to Teela; he froze in place. "What are you doing to your eyes?" he demanded.

"A trick of Terrano's. I am being coached through the minor transformation, but it does not come as easily to me as it would to almost any of the rest of my friends. Terrano does it constantly; it's his way of being aware of differences in phases or planes that intersect ours."

"And you can survive this."

"Demonstrably."

"So it is true, then. You were one of the twelve exposed to the regalia in your childhood."

"I have never attempted to deny it," Teela replied, her tone of voice distinctly chilly. "I believe Kaylin to be correct in her description, except in one way. It's not Shadow."

"Why are you so certain?"

"What she saw, she's describing accurately: it looks like a dark outlands. I have no sense that it's sentient or alive."

"Or dead?"

"Or dead," Teela agreed.

"May we proceed?" Emmerian asked, his voice a rumble.

"Kaylin?"

Kaylin desperately wished Terrano were here. But one of the reasons they'd come was to find him. "Are you comfortable with letting me go first?"

"No," Teela replied.

"It seems wisest," Larrantin said. "Given that she can see clearly what you can barely detect, and the rest of us cannot detect at all."

"We almost lost her to the portal passage," Teela snapped. "I don't intend to lose her to landscape. Something is looking for her."

"It's probably the dead Ancient," Kaylin offered.

Larrantin frowned. "I believe we must come up with a different term."

"For Ancient? God?"

"For dead in the case of the Ancient. Death has meaning to the rest of us."

"It has some meaning to the Ancient as well—I believe he thought of death as the end of purpose. Something like that. He said his purpose had been fulfilled." She frowned.

"Do you believe the dead Ancient attempted to speak with Azoria?"

"No. No, I don't. I'm pretty sure Azoria thought of the Ancient as dead in the usual way. But she was aware of the power inherent in the Ancients, or aware of the words. And the words persisted."

"They were the foundation of language, the true tongue. Of course they persisted."

"But..."

"But?"

"If they persisted, if they're eternal in some fashion, how can they be spoken? I mean, when the Ancients spoke, did their spoken words become new iterations? Were there hundreds and thousands of the same True Word just popping into existence?"

"Almost certainly not," Larrantin said.

"Almost?"

"We did not speak with the Ancients as they spoke to each other. It is possible that they were an amalgamation of the words they contained; that they could not bespeak each other with any ease at all. They were gods, Corporal. Who among us can understand their minds? They created worlds."

"Worlds have—or had—words."

"That is the theory, yes. And perhaps they contained not words, but word: something far more complicated, far less accessible, than the names handed down to Immortals over the passage of time."

Kaylin frowned. "I'm not sure about that. I think the ancient mirrors were created with their blood—and their blood contained words."

"At another time, I will ask you why you believe that. Now, however, I wish to know whether or not you believe you can scout ahead without being lost."

Severn said, "She can. I'll go with her."

Teela shook her head. "I'll go with her if it's necessary; I think it's a terrible idea. If she must separate, she can still communicate with you."

"You don't have the weapons of the green," Severn replied, not budging.

"You intend to use them?"

"If necessary, the chain can serve as a rudimentary binding. If she gets lost, I'll be lost with her."

The two Hawks, Severn and Teela, stared at each other. Kaylin glanced at Tain; Tain shrugged. Neither she nor Teela's partner were willing to join the silent argument. Kaylin was going to scout ahead; the details could work themselves out.

Coward.

Always. I think it was you who taught me that.

You could end up with both of us, which means Tain will follow.

I don't think so. Teela respects those weapons; because you own them, she assumes you know how to use them. The Barrani ascribe almost mystical powers to the weapons of the green.

Betting?

Sure .

"Kitling, you'd better not be placing bets."

Or not. How did she know?

You have a very expressive face, especially when you think you're going to win.

Teela turned her back—pointedly—on Kaylin. "Fine. You're far more cautious than Kaylin is capable of being. Do you want the Dragon?"

Kaylin shook her head. "I have Hope. If necessary, Hope can go full Dragon. I don't want to risk Emmerian unless we think it's safe."

Emmerian nodded. He really was unflappable; being talked about in the third person didn't bother him at all. The only person who caused dents in his self-control seemed to be Bellusdeo. Kaylin was grateful that Bellusdeo had remained with Mrs. Erickson; she imagined the hall would be full of arguing draconic roars, otherwise.

Bellusdeo would not stay behind if Kaylin was going; Emmerian would not stay behind if Bellusdeo was going—which was guaranteed to cause the gold Dragon to lose her temper.

She wondered if Dragons ever had peaceful, quiet relationships, but doubted it. She shook herself free of the thought and stepped through the arch formed of two towering trees, Severn by her side.