Tiamaris was as good as his word; he accompanied the caravan from the fief over which he ruled to Lannagaros’s new home. In the streets of Tiamaris, the sight of the Norannir was far more common; it was the Barrani cohort who kept the curious at bay. Kaylin considered this a more reasonable reaction, given Sedarias.
Tara didn’t join Tiamaris, probably because she couldn’t cross the border—a border that had become fixed, solid. The fief of Nightshade clearly existed in the distance, and Kaylin had only to cross a street to enter Nightshade’s domain. But a road now existed at a T junction, and that was the road down which the Arkon’s possessions—and all his various attendants—now traveled. The cohort had no issues with visibility this time. They could see the same street as anyone else; the street was narrow, which made travel more cumbersome.
But aside from an orange-eyed Dragon, the travel went smoothly, and the larger campus, with its circular road, came naturally into view.
As if that were a signal, the cohort took off at a swift run, spreading out across the grass as they angled their way to the main building; the doors were already open, and a stone ramp now existed in the center of the long, flat steps that led to the interior.
At the head of those steps was Killian, watching the progress of the new chancellor’s caravan almost impatiently. If he wasn’t a building the way Helen was, he resembled her strongly. There was a gravity to Killian at the moment that Helen lacked, probably deliberately.
Gravity, however, was vanquished by the impatience of the Academy’s youngest student; Robin kept peering around the open door, his head moving back and forth as if everything caught his attention but failed to hold it for long.
Only when he caught sight of Kaylin did he leap through the door and bound down the stairs, Kaylin being the least intimidating of the assembled group. Even this didn’t last; his eyes were drawn to the chancellor, or rather, his wagons. Maggaron was first in line. Killian descended the steps to offer to immediately relocate the more delicate items in the collection.
And of course he could.
Lannagaros—Kaylin was never going to get used to this, because “the Arkon” had practically been his name—stood at the foot of the stairs, and looked up, and up again, his gaze taking in the whole of the central building.
He turned once to look at the park, and once to look at the building in which Larrantin had been found, and then once again faced forward.
Robin said, “I’m staying!” as if that had been in doubt. But...for Robin, it probably had. Candallar’s people had been ejected, one way or another. Candallar’s other prisoners—Kaylin couldn’t bring herself to call them students—had departed with as much haste as they could muster.
Robin remained.
“I’m not alone,” he said, smiling. “I think Calarnenne will be here, too. He’s pretty smart.”
Kaylin didn’t choke, but it took effort.
“Are they going to be students?” he asked, lowering his voice as he glanced at the cohort.
“I think some of them will—but I’m told there’s an admission process.”
“Huh. Like...permission?”
“Worse, probably. Bureaucracy.”
“I heard that, Corporal.” Lannagaros spoke without turning to them.
“You’re not denying it, I note.”
“Organizations require some oversight.”
“But... I’m in, right?” Robin asked.
“You are a student, and unless you do something that threatens the Academia or another student, you are, as you put it, in.” The chancellor drew a deep breath, which was just enough of a warning that Kaylin could cover ears that had barely recovered from yesterday’s council meeting.
Hope, on her shoulder, crooned softly.
Kaylin couldn’t understand native Dragon, but she knew, without needing to, what the former Arkon had said.
Bellusdeo wandered across the grass until she could sling an arm over the chancellor’s shoulder. “Yes,” she said. “You are home.”
He said nothing in reply. With Bellusdeo’s gentle urging, he mounted the stairs and entered the Academia.
* * *
Acknowledgments
I am an author whose lifelong favorite Sesame Street character is Oscar the Grouch. And not only because I’m certain the interior of his trash can is as messy as my house. If writing a novel is a solitary activity, family isn’t, and mine have, as usual, had to deal with my frenetic attempts to shut the metaphorical lid and sink into my trash can, loudly.
Thanks to my mother and her deep love for her (adult!) grandchildren, no one starved. Thomas and the rest of my home team (John, Kristen, Gary) accepted, as always, that there were days when I was fretting in a corner. Terry Pearson provided both writing-retreat space and first-read everything.
Margot Mallinson is my MIRA editor and has to deal with me. Kathleen Oudit has been responsible for all of the covers to date, including this one. But the MIRA team I’ve met, and some of the team I haven’t met, are also working hard to get the book from the inside of my head to you, the readers. Special shout-out to Lauren Nisbet!
ISBN: 9781488055362
Cast in Wisdom
Copyright © 2020 by Michelle Sagara
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
For questions and comments about the quality of this book, please contact us at [email protected].
Mira
22 Adelaide St. West, 40th Floor
Toronto, Ontario M5H 4E3, Canada
BookClubbish.com
Cast in Wisdom Page 49