“There have been no Shadow incursions?” he asked, his tone neutral, shorn of the almost avuncular warmth that seemed to otherwise characterize it.
He couldn’t have asked a better question of Bellusdeo, and she answered.
You mean Mandoran?
Yes. You consider his trust easily given.
For a Barrani, it was.
The cohort desires some information about the Towers. They do not desire that information to be immediately offered to Bellusdeo.
And you don’t care.
It is, I admit, less of a concern to me—but the Towers do not overlap. Their territories do not overlap. And there is no way to captain two of the Towers. In the world beyond the fiefs, territory both expands and contracts frequently, given the relative power of those who desire that expansion. Durant understands the hard limits of the Towers and their mission.
Kaylin nodded, and then grimaced; Nightshade couldn’t see it.
Amused, he continued. Durant and his Tower would be aware of the lack of Candallar; we can hear the names of the fiefs to either side of us, and we are aware when those names fall silent. The Towers, he added, speak the names of their captains; it is my suspicion that is how the names of the original Towers were lost to history. Either way, it would not be of concern to Durant, unless he is worried about the incursion of Shadow.
You knew that Tiamaris—that Barren—wasn’t captained.
That is more difficult, but yes. The fieflord prior to Tiamaris was not dead. Yes, we did not hear Barren’s name. Tell me, Kaylin, what do you think Bellusdeo is attempting?
I think she wants Candallar’s former Tower.
And that is the reason she has agreed to take Durant on a tour of the Academia? He was amused. I believe I will join that tour. It should prove interesting.
Kaylin had zero desire to experience any more interesting in her life.
* * *
True to his word, Nightshade was waiting as they entered the mouth of the large circular road on which the main buildings stood. He was dressed casually, and as the students didn’t appear to have mandated uniforms, might have been one of them. The small park in the middle of this campus was almost, but not quite, empty; a handful of people occupied benches.
Mandoran sucked in air. “Annarion’s not happy,” he said, voice low.
“Are any of you?” Kaylin’s voice was just as low.
“Serralyn and Valliant.”
“They’re coming out to play?”
He shook his head. “They’re in a class.”
“So, small mercies still exist.”
Bellusdeo’s eyes were the normal color—orange with gold bits—as Nightshade approached. She halted what was already a slow walk, threw Kaylin a look, and exhaled.
Nightshade stopped two yards in front of Bellusdeo and the fieflord. “Lord Bellusdeo, Lord Durant,” he said, granting Bellusdeo a title she didn’t generally claim.
The Dragon turned to Durant. “This is Lord Nightshade.”
“You’re away from home,” Durant said, extending a hand.
Nightshade didn’t pause; he extended his own. “As are you. I have grown somewhat fond of the Academia and its new chancellor.”
“This would be my first experience with both. Your border zone has also largely vanished?”
“It has. I consider it, at a local level, a vast improvement.”
“I am uncertain; the consequences have yet to be felt. But I’m curious about the buildings on the streets that lead here. Bellusdeo tells me that such streets now extend to the edge of every fief.”
Nightshade nodded.
“The Academia would seem, if geography is to be believed, to now exist between the fiefs of Nightshade and Liatt.”
“Yes. It would. My fief—I cannot speak for Liatt’s except in the usual way—has not been altered in any way. If I do not take the streets that turn towards the Academia, I will now end up in Liatt.”
“So, a pocket space?”
“Again, I hesitate to answer questions when my ignorance is so profound. It is my belief that it is a pocket space, a pocket dimension—but it is now reachable in a purely quotidian way. If there is a portal—or portals—from our fiefs to the Academia, they are extremely subtle.”
Durant, frowning, nodded. “I noticed none on our walk here. But the buildings are in good repair. They are empty?”
“They will not remain empty, according to the chancellor, but they are considered part of the larger campus property.”
Durant shrugged.
“You hoped to have some put to use?”
“They’re in good repair,” the mortal fieflord repeated. “And that cost none of Durant’s resources. Yes, I would have attempted to have them used. Prior to this, no one wanted to live in the border zone, even if the buildings were in decent repair. I don’t blame them—I wouldn’t, either.”
“There is only one place you might live. It is the same with me.”
Durant nodded. “We had no problems with Shadow or its incursions from the border zones. We did watch, but admittedly in a desultory fashion; we’ve no history of any difficulties that weren’t caused by idiots.”
Kaylin pointedly did not look at Mandoran.
Bellusdeo had said nothing during this time, but seemed to reach a decision. “I am early for my appointment to meet with the chancellor, but my appointment consists of a report on the accessibility of Durant.”
“Accessible to the Academia?” Durant’s eyes couldn’t change color, but in this case, his tone remained friendly.
“Yes. It is a school on a grand scale, and it has only recently opened to students.”
Kaylin didn’t hear the rest of the explanation; she caught sight of Killian. Surprised to see him outside the large building in which she’d first met him, she broke away from the group and headed in his direction. Mandoran followed; Severn chose to remain with Bellusdeo. This wasn’t a situation in which a partner was either mandated or needed.
Killian smiled as she approached.
“Lord Kaylin.”
“Please don’t.”
The smile deepened. “Kaylin, then. The chancellor informed me that the correct use of titles for our visitors was necessary.”
“Corporal Neya would work. But I prefer plain Kaylin.”
“I believe he feels that the greater title is the one that is used as a gesture of respect.”
“Well, I believe that the preferred title is the better way to go.”
Killian was almost green-eyed; he lost the obsidian eyes of an Avatar. “In general, so do I. But the chancellor believes any gesture of respect for outsiders is necessary. You are to speak with him.”
“I think so?”
“Ah, apologies, Kaylin. That was not a question. He has time, and I believe he is now expecting Bellusdeo.”
“She has two fieflords with her.”
“Yes. He feels this will save time and the gray area of reporting.”
“Should we go?”
Killian was silent for a moment. “He expects your presence but asks that you keep disruptions to a minimum.”
“And Mandoran?”
“He will accept all of your companions.” Killian grimaced. “I am, however, to keep Lord Mandoran’s disruption to a minimum.”
Mandoran had the same reaction to the word Lord in front of his name as Kaylin had, which was ironic, given how he felt about hers.
“He won’t cause trouble.”
“He intends no trouble at all—but I have had some experience with your friends, and their good intentions are not always relevant.”
“Serralyn and Valliant can’t be causing problems. Serralyn was so excited to come here.”
“Valliant causes very little difficulty. Serralyn’s excitement, however, is very loud.”
&nb
sp; “She was always pretty quiet at home.”
“Perhaps. But the type of loud is not one you would necessarily notice. Helen would, and I do. I do not think it will cause problems, but it requires a certain amount of vigilance on my part.”
Kaylin wondered if Serralyn was like Annarion.
“Come. Introduce me to your friends and inform them that the chancellor is waiting.”
* * *
The chancellor was waiting in his office. If Kaylin had questioned Killian’s abilities as a sentient building, she repented; the office was much, much larger on the interior than it had ever been, in part to accommodate chairs, and in part to accommodate what appeared to be a buffet table. Smaller tables, usually to one side of larger chairs not meant for dining halls, had also appeared.
Killian took over introductions as if they were pronouncements, but no one else seemed to find this strange.
The chancellor wasn’t seated behind his desk; he was seated in one of the chairs. The desk remained in the room, but it was nowhere near the current furniture meant for this casual first meeting. He rose when the doors were fully open, and offered Bellusdeo and the fieflord of Durant a bow. He nodded at Nightshade, and Nightshade returned the nod.
“Bellusdeo offered to show me the Academia,” Durant said. “I hope you’ll forgive the intrusion.”
“It is no intrusion. I am not in competition with the fiefs or their lords, and I am well aware of the very necessary function the Towers serve. Perhaps more aware of it now that I am situated in the fiefs.”
“In some fashion. I find the question of geography very interesting. The Academia is similar to the Towers?” Durant took the chair offered him by the chancellor.
“It is not,” Killian answered. “The Academia is meant to house scholars, researchers, and the library; its function is both preservation and discovery. These have never been limited to race or gender. The Towers are meant to preserve lives in the face of Ravellon. If, however, you refer to sentience or central intelligence, then yes, the Academia is similar to the Towers, but the concerns of the Academia and the concerns of the Towers are not the same.
“I, of course—ah, forgive me. I am Killianas.”
“Killianas,” the chancellor said, “is the heart of the Academia; he frequently chooses to appear in person.”
Durant nodded.
“Does your Tower have an Avatar?” Kaylin received a frown particular to the chancellor; it was familiar and almost comfortable.
“It does. But she is not often moved to meet strangers, and when she is, it usually means trouble.” He spoke with respect, but without any particular fear. Kaylin, however, understood that the heart of Nightshade’s Tower was possibly the most dangerous thing about it, and said nothing.
Durant then returned his attention to the chancellor. “I am told you desire open access to the Academia through Durant, should there be those who wish to apply as students here.”
“I do. Such access exists through the fief of Tiamaris, and that access will not be revoked.”
“Such permission as the chancellor desires has already been granted through the fief of Nightshade as well,” Nightshade said.
Durant’s grin widened in what appeared to be genuine amusement to Kaylin. “You’re warning me that I have no leg to stand on if I want to negotiate some price for open access?”
“I am informing you of facts that might be relevant should you consider it, yes.” It was the chancellor who replied. If his tone was stiff, his eyes remained the orange-gold mix that was Dragon neutral.
“You house the students, you feed them, and you teach them what they want to learn?”
“That is succinct, and I am certain some of the students might quibble with the last part, but yes, that is the intent. We are not a prison. What we want, here, are those who are committed to learning. There are currently few who are qualified to teach, but many experts, many scholars, have professed an interest in doing so, and we are interviewing them and sorting them out.”
“How will you pay them?”
This wasn’t the question the chancellor had been expecting, but Kaylin liked Durant the better for asking it.
“That is surely a concern of the scholars themselves.”
“In Durant, money doesn’t grow on trees. Some food does, but not much. The Tower can produce wood and stone—and as long as neither wood nor stone is to leave the fief, it will last.”
“It will last,” Killian said, “as long as the Tower does—and as long as the captain desires that outlay of the Tower’s power.”
Durant nodded. He radiated a warmth that Nightshade in particular didn’t possess.
He has been fieflord for many years, given his apparent age. You cannot imagine that a fieflord could be avuncular in any substantial fashion.
She thought of Tara. It probably depends on the Tower’s core.
Nightshade’s Tower would probably commit suicide—if that was possible for Towers—before it became like Tara in any way. The thought amused him briefly.
Kaylin was thinking about wood and stone and the area in which the Tower might effect permanent changes to the buildings the fief’s residents inhabited. She had no doubt that his comment about wood and stone had been tested. And buildings seldom moved themselves out of the fiefs in which they’d been built.
“The question of remuneration is an exercise left to the Academia and the scholars. It is not through the fiefs, or the citizens of the fiefs, that such scholars are likely to come; those that have the capability but choose to dwell in the fiefs often have legal difficulties that would render them unsuitable.” The chancellor glanced at Bellusdeo, whose eyes were a touch more orange than his.
“I don’t intend to set up a blockade to prevent people from entering the Academia,” Durant said. “How strict are your admission standards?”
“Define strict.”
“I admit I don’t understand enough to offer a reasonable definition. How many students have applied for entry, and how many have you accepted?”
The chancellor didn’t reply with actual numbers; Kaylin had no doubt that he had them. The Arkon—ugh, the former Arkon—held on to facts and knowledge as if they were the air that sustained his breathing.
“I am aware that some students will seek entrance simply because it guarantees both food and shelter,” he offered instead. “But a majority of those who are driven by desperation will not provide the Academia what it needs. Knowledge is not the sole province of the rich and powerful; the desire for knowledge can be found in any corner of this city—or this Empire.
“We will have Barrani students; we will have human students. Some interest has been expressed by the Aerians, but that is in its infancy. A delegate has been sent to the Leontine quarter, as well.”
“Ah. The Tha’alani?” This was asked more sharply.
“We have not yet had a Tha’alani applicant. I would, however, accept Tha’alani students who displayed the correct attitude.”
“Not aptitude?”
The chancellor declined to accept the possible correction. Kaylin half understood why. She had the wrong attitude for the Academia, and knew it. Sitting in a class and listening to someone drone on and on when she could be out in the streets doing her job would have been almost unbearable.
Perhaps, had you found the Academia when you chose to flee Nightshade, you might feel differently.
Kaylin shook her head. I needed—I still need—to be doing something that I personally consider useful. Being a Hawk is useful.
Being knowledgeable is useful, Nightshade countered; he was still amused. It is less predictable, certainly. Esoteric studies about historical use of portals would have no bearing on your former life. In theory, it has no bearing on your present life—but you have experienced the ways in which that knowledge is profoundly important.
Kaylin had
heard this before.
The existence of the Academia is not somehow a personal slight; it is not an act of condescension.
This was less common. And she knew this already. But sometimes she confused feeling vaguely stupid with being treated as if she were, as if her feelings were the responsibility of external forces and opinions. She exhaled slowly. Sitting in the chancellor’s office with two fieflords had not been on her to-do list for the day. Following Bellusdeo was.
Durant turned to Nightshade. “If possible, in the neutral territory of the Academia, I would like to have a small discussion with you, as a fellow fieflord. There are some issues with Ravellon and the border that have long provoked questions in me.”
“If there is anywhere to find answers,” Nightshade replied, “it is here. I alone may not have the information you desire—but all past research and all historical knowledge exist within the Academia’s library.”
He had not expected that Durant would know much about the library. The fieflord’s expression, however, made it clear that he had heard about it from somewhere.
Maybe his Tower. Kaylin desperately wanted to know who or what the core of Durant’s Tower had been on the day the Towers rose.
And it occurred to her, as she sat in this office, that Nightshade was right. Information and knowledge were here. But the library was often off-limits to even junior students.
“There is much,” Bellusdeo said, finally entering the discussion in her own right, “to discuss. The fieflords handle their responsibilities as captains to the Towers in ways that best suit them—but some have allowed people to pass through the Ravellon border. And return.”
Durant’s eyes rounded slightly in what Kaylin assumed was genuine surprise. “I hesitate to call you a liar,” he said, “but your source must be misinformed. I am not entirely certain it is even possible.”
“Your Tower was not his Tower. Candallar, for reasons of his own, allowed this. Something was brought from Ravellon into Elantra in the hands of a Barrani Lord of the High Court.”
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