Cast in Wisdom

by Michelle Sagara

  They followed in Starrante’s wake. It became clear that Starrante had chosen to use the same halls that Robin had; Severn marked the turns as they progressed.

  Mandoran says Sedarias is in a mood.

  Yes. A bad one.

  She could feel his brief chuckle. Before she could reply, she could hear the panicked shouts of people in the distance.

  “I guess that answers that question: no, they weren’t.”

  The distant language was mostly Barrani, but she recognized the word for Shadow: they made the same assumption that Kaylin would have made were it not for the Arkon. Starrante was, physically, a walking nightmare. She picked up her pace, breaking from a fast walk into a jog. All of the attention would be focused on Starrante.

  “Dragon?” Bellusdeo asked as she caught up.

  “Up to you. I think Starrante has—” The sound of steel against steel could be heard in the distance. Jog became run. Starrante hadn’t been carrying swords, and Kaylin was pretty sure swords were being used.

  * * *

  The main hall that had been cut off was a mass of bodies in motion. One of those bodies was Starrante. He was neither Dragon nor Barrani, with their immediate history of war; he was the thing that had forced pockets of peace upon both peoples at the height of their conflict.

  Shadow.

  Ravellon.

  He was also apparently proof against the swords wielded by the mostly Barrani intruders; some of the humans had them, but most were standing back. Kaylin could feel the hair on her arms begin to rise as a precursor to cast magic; none of it caused by her companions.

  Starrante didn’t appear to be casting spells. He had lifted four of his eight legs and was using them to parry the swords wielded by his attackers—people who had formed a line across the width of the hall. It was a wide hall. The width allowed three people to stand and fight, but not safely, and not well.

  She wondered what was happening in the library now that she was no longer in it; she couldn’t speak to anyone she’d left behind. Sedarias could—unless Terrano had been blown out of the library by Candallar’s command, but in an entirely different direction. Or dimension.

  Stay there, Kaylin said when she felt Severn’s decision to come down the hall from the other side, which would leave the effective equivalent of Barrani thugs trapped and fighting on two fronts.

  Should I send Emmerian?

  No—if Candallar retreats to that office, we want Emmerian with you. Can Robin get out a different way?

  He’s more than willing to try—we’ve been practically sitting on him. He wants to be helpful, he added.

  Tell him helpful is staying where he is. No, wait. Don’t. She hadn’t been Robin, but she’d been his age—and he’d been pretty damn helpful already.

  Can you contact Killian? He had Starrante removed from the chancellor’s doorway because conflict—deadly conflict—involving members of the Academia is strictly forbidden.

  I would—but I don’t think he’ll distinguish between Starrante as he was and Starrante as he is, and I think we want to get Starrante to the office somehow.

  Severn, possessed of the same facts as Kaylin, nodded in the distance.

  Sedarias and Bellusdeo had caught up with Starrante by this point, but Starrante had taken most of the hall’s width as his personal fighting position, and it left little room for Sedarias unless she wanted to leap over the heads of the people who had been ordered to secure the hallway and keep visitors from going any farther.

  The halls were tall enough that Sedarias could—with some magical aid—clear the heads of Candallar’s gathered guards; she was less certain to clear their swords if they noticed, and she’d land as a force of one on the other side. Unless she had no intention of fighting, in which case she might be able to run toward Annarion, Severn and Emmerian.

  Bellusdeo didn’t consider the height of the halls suitable for flight but seemed content to observe the third Arbiter as he muscled his way through the roadblock. She took position behind his left side, and Sedarias stepped in line with the Dragon to cover his right. Kaylin saw why.

  The Barrani to the left and right of Starrante, pressed into the walls and parrying the Arbiter’s blows, would be left behind; they might be able to attack Starrante from the flanks more successfully than they had from the front. This didn’t seem to concern the Arbiter.

  It should have concerned the Barrani more than it had, because annoyed Dragon—Bellusdeo—or annoyed Sedarias was probably more deadly than Starrante; they just weren’t as instantly viscerally terrifying.

  Nightshade.

  He was both annoyed and amused.

  You said Killian had finished his lecture. Is he still there?

  He is quizzing us.

  What, without any time for study? Shut up, Kaylin. Sorry—whatever he did to Starrante, I need him to do to Candallar’s thugs.

  Why? I do not see any cause for concern in the current interaction.

  No, he wouldn’t. They’ll die. All of them will die. I think Starrante would leave them behind but—she was interrupted by a scream of pain as fire enwrapped a sword arm—Bellusdeo and Sedarias won’t. If he can send them to their figurative rooms—

  Killian glared at her. “I begin to understand why so many of your companions find you so trying. I do not believe this fracas involves any of my students, and the Arbiter’s role is a more independent one. I fail to understand why you are concerned with these intruders—they would not be at all concerned were you or your companions to die in these halls.”

  “Because I could have been one of them, years ago and in a slightly different life.”

  “I fail to see the significance.”

  “I learned things I didn’t know between then and now. I believed that I could live a different life—but I had to be alive to do that.”

  Nightshade’s amusement deepened, probably because Kaylin’s frustration had. But the frustration was irrelevant to Killian, and the attackers weren’t irrelevant enough to Bellusdeo and Sedarias. Both of the Barrani that Starrante had already shunted to the sides were bleeding on the floor; one might survive, but the other wouldn’t make it.

  The Barrani at the back of this ten-person group—now eight people—took stock of the situation in front of their eyes, and began to back up or to look for side routes down which they might escape. Solidarity of purpose vanished as the immediate desire to survive took over.

  Starrante didn’t seem concerned with those who fled; Bellusdeo and Sedarias appeared to consider pursuit. But Starrante’s movement through the hall was, attackers notwithstanding, a rush of motion, and in the end, they chose to abandon pursuit of enemies in favor of the Arbiter.

  The combat had slowed him enough that they were starting from the same place again, and this time, when the blockage cleared, they moved far more quickly to keep up. So did Kaylin. The odd, awkward gait that had characterized Starrante in Severn’s eyes was gone; he moved gracefully and swiftly—very like the spider that he appeared to be. He knew exactly where he was going.

  Severn knew it, too—Severn had always had a much better eye for geography, and a much better memory for it.

  Starrante climbed a wall, skipping two squares of the hall; Sedarias leaped above them. Bellusdeo grabbed Kaylin and did the same. No one asked why; they attempted, with two normal legs, to follow a path that eight made far easier. Kaylin felt a painful slap across her skin as Bellusdeo cleared those squares. Starrante had clearly seen whatever lay across the floor.

  Bellusdeo—and probably Sedarias—could; Kaylin could. But detecting magical traps and dangers took time. It was time Starrante didn’t have to expend.

  Regardless, that corner was the last corner; she could see, if not the chancellor’s office, her companions. Emmerian stepped up, passing Annarion, as Starrante approached. Kaylin didn’t blame him; Starrante was definitely in t
he lead, even if both Bellusdeo and Sedarias were running to catch up. It probably wasn’t clear whether or not they were in pursuit because he was a danger or an enemy was escaping.

  But no, that wasn’t true. Emmerian’s gaze hit Bellusdeo, and he immediately stood down—figuratively speaking. He could see the gold Dragon’s eyes. They had been orange, but it wasn’t the orange that could threaten red at any time. She was not afraid of Starrante.

  Bellusdeo set Kaylin on two feet. Kaylin scurried past Starrante, who had stopped in the hall, his front two legs weaving in the air as if they were weapons. Which, practically speaking, they were. Annarion’s sword was raised, but he didn’t step in to attack. Of course not. He’d be aware of anything Sedarias was aware of. His take, on the other hand, was always his own—it was amazing, on some days, that the cohort could get anything done, they spent so much time arguing among themselves.

  Kaylin pushed herself to stand in front of Starrante, and as she did he lowered his limbs. “Arbiter Starrante, you might have encountered these people earlier—they’re our friends and allies. This is Corporal Severn Handred. This is Lord Emmerian—”

  “Lord?”

  “Emmerian is one of five Dragon Lords. The Imperial Court—the Empire of the country in which the Towers stand—is composed of Dragons.”

  “And not Barrani?”

  “It’s complicated. But the wars between the two—Barrani and Dragon—are over. They are in the past, and we intend to keep it that way.”

  “In my day,” Starrante said, “Dragons were introduced by the name of their flights.”

  “Yes, well. It’s been a long time since your day, and none of the rest of us were around for it. Well, almost none of the rest of us.”

  “Very well.” Starrante opened his mouth and roared.

  Bellusdeo startled, and then looked to the side—Starrante’s body was, given the position of his hind legs, almost even with her head. She then grinned at Kaylin, her eyes as light as they had been since they’d set foot in the Academia, and responded in kind.

  Emmerian’s manners had always been flawless; he did so, as well. The stone hall proved to be acoustically perfect—if one wanted to amplify the sound of native Dragon. Apparently, Draconian greetings were long-winded affairs, and Kaylin’s ears were ringing by the time everyone was satisfied that they’d done a good enough job.

  She did manage not to cover her ears.

  “...This is Annarion An’Solanace. And behind them is Robin, one of Killian’s most promising students.”

  “I see. I would dearly love the opportunity to spend time with someone Killianas considered promising, but that will have to wait. Gentlemen, if you would step aside from the doorway, I believe we need to enter the chancellor’s office.”

  “Kaylin,” Annarion said, “I think we might have a problem.”

  “What’s happened in the library?”

  “It’s hard to pick it out—Terrano’s still there, but...there’s interference.”

  Starrante said, “Come to me right now.” Emmerian turned, picked up a terrified Robin and made haste to obey; Severn and Annarion were on the move before the last syllable had stopped resonating in the ceiling above.

  Something like mist crept out of the chancellor’s open doors—mist with glittering shards enfolded in its gray, cloudy form.

  Chapter 27

  The mist encircled Starrante. It didn’t touch him—and it didn’t touch anyone who had made their way to the umbrella of his direct surroundings. The Arbiter cursed in a language that seemed to be composed of rapid clicks instead of the usual syllables. Kaylin wasn’t certain she could repeat it, but she recognized useful street language when she heard it.

  The Arbiter heaved a rattling, terrible sigh. Kaylin would have worried about the state of his lungs if he were any of the races with which she was familiar—and she dropped a hand to the side of his body instinctively. There was, however, nothing wrong with his body if one accepted its base state.

  “This reminds me of my distant youth, before I was out of the web,” Starrante said.

  “Did all of your siblings get out of the web?”

  “No, of course not. We were little, unlearned savages; things like self-control were won only if we survived.”

  Please don’t tell me you ate your siblings. She kept this to herself, largely because Robin was already glassy-eyed and terrified of a giant talking spider.

  “But this is very carefully wrought, this work. I would suggest those of you who have little experience with arcane displacement avoid it.”

  “Arcane displacement? You mean like portals?”

  “Ah, yes. The problem with this particular variant of a much more benign spell is that different parts of you will end up in different places. This does not generally work out well for those of us who were born to this plane. Ah, apologies, to the plane from which you came.”

  “Can you get rid of it?”

  “With some effort—effort attained by lack of interruption.”

  “Then the answer,” Sedarias said, “is no—because an interruption is incoming.” She remained in the invisible circle Starrante had drawn, but stood at the part of its circumference that was closest to the open office doors, her sword ready.

  The incoming interruption was Candallar—Candallar, an Arcanist, and the human Caste Court lord. Lord Baltrin. Kaylin wondered when he’d returned to the Academia, and wondered whether or not he was a mage.

  The Arcanist’s tiara was bathed in a livid red; the gem was pulsing steadily, as if it were a living, exposed heart. The light of it was almost hypnotic, and Kaylin looked away, remembering Nightshade’s warning. Avoid Lord Illanen, of both the High Court and the Arcanum, the latter blindingly obvious at the moment.

  “He’s dangerous,” Kaylin told Starrante softly.

  “They are all dangerous.”

  “One is mortal,” Sedarias then said.

  “So, too, is this Chosen. Mortality does not preclude power; it precludes the gaining of wisdom and knowledge—but even then, mortal minds move quickly because they have no choice. And magic, like fashion, changes; knowledge that I have not personally accrued can alter all arcane landscapes and combats.” Starrante’s smile—and he was smiling as he turned, briefly, to look at Kaylin—was terrifying. It looked like a gaping void, with frills like teeth around its edge.

  It took effort to remember that he was an ally, but she made the effort, because in the near distance, Illanen had withdrawn something from the folds of his voluminous Arcanist robes. It was a book. Kaylin couldn’t see the cover, and even if she had, the entirety of the book was colored by the light of the gem in his tiara.

  She thought red was fire affinity, but had never asked. Fire, on the other hand, would not harm at least two of the people now facing the Arcanist. Severn had his weapon chain unwound, but there was no room to rotate the chain at full length—not when he was surrounded by spider body, legs, and the rest of his companions.

  Kaylin caught Robin by the shoulder and pulled him close. “The spider,” she whispered in his ear, “is on our side.”

  His nod went on for too long, and she wondered what his odds of leaving safely now were. Kaylin could feel the Arcanist’s magic across the entirety of her body—even defended, as she was, by Starrante’s invisible barrier.

  She wanted her familiar or her familiar’s wings.

  Nightshade!

  I am here. Killian’s test is in progress.

  Good. Tell Killian that Robin is—is lost in the halls.

  Silence.

  Tell him he’s missing the test!

  She felt the wall of his refusal without the need for words. Words did follow. Think. There is one student with you. Only one. Some of Killian’s ability to interfere relies on the student body. If—as you suspect—Killian can somehow remove Robin and return him to the class,
you will have no legitimate students by your side. I have not been granted permission to leave the room, and it is highly unlikely I would be granted that permission should I ask during a test. It is, he added, only partly written; the rest is oral, and Killian is making his way through the classroom as we speak.

  But Robin—

  I understand your fear. And he didn’t share it. But if your safety, the safety of Bellusdeo, and the safety of my brother depend on one mortal boy, the possibility of his death is a necessary risk.

  Had she expected a different answer?

  “What is that book?” someone demanded. Kaylin turned toward Sedarias, because only Sedarias would demand answers from Starrante in the current situation.

  “Very good,” the spider said. “I believe I understand some of the difficulties the would-be interim chancellor now faces.”

  Lord Baltrin did not carry a book, and he did not wear a tiara; he did, however, carry a staff. It was Kaylin’s height, but slender and straight—a thing of wood and gold. Sanabalis would have heaped ridicule on the necessity of it, had he been here.

  The interim chancellor in question stood between the Barrani Arcanist and the human Caste Court lord. His eyes, at this distance, were black. The medallion on his chest was gold, if gold were somehow lurid; the rod he carried in his left hand was now the same color.

  “Any problem he faces would help us,” Sedarias said.

  “Yes, perhaps. But he carries only two of the three significant objects he requires to assert better control over the Academia.”

  “And the third?”

  “The young man with the ugly crown.”

  “The book?”

  “The book. Killian is not fully awake, and because he is not, the interim chancellor’s power is muted. We would be facing a much harder fight were he more aware.”

  “Us? Why us?”

  “Because the interim chancellor’s authority would carry far more weight. Even were he to be more awake now, the authority is split in a fashion that it is seldom split. We have had interim chancellors in our history, but they are an emergency measure. They are not chosen with care—care is seldom exercised in an emergency—and they make their presence known by the three insignias. Without them, Killian is unlikely to hear either their requests or their commands.”