Did she?
I...don’t think so. I’m not sure if we were sent here because it’s a safe “room” or not—but until and unless we find Killian, we can’t ask.
You were the one who reached him in the first place. Can you reach him from where you are?
Good question. I doubt it.
Why?
Because Terrano can’t.
A beat of silence, a strong feeling of hesitance. Both characterized her conversations with Severn—or at least the ones that took place in their respective heads.Terrano doesn’t have the marks of the Chosen.
I was afraid you were going to say that.Severn knew she didn’t know how to use the marks. But...the only source of light in this room came from the mark she had lifted off her skin.
“Do you have any idea why Killian is so damaged?” Before the Arkon could speak, she flushed. “No, that was badly phrased. What I meant was: he’s here, and he’s not. I don’t think it’s just the lack of a chancellor. Somehow, he managed to protect himself, his space, the region for which he was guardian. But—I’m not sure what damage was done to him that makes him barely functional, at least compared to Helen. I know what happened to Helen, and I know why.
“I can guess that something happened to Killian—in his attempt to protect himself and his function—but I don’t understand the gathering of so-called students. Some people either didn’t leave on time or refused to leave. Larrantin is here. Caranthas, you mentioned—I’m assuming he was one of the Barrani stuck in the wall.” The wall that was not really a wall anymore.
“Yes. I recognized him.”
“And to be honest, I thought the fiefs had always existed. ThatRavellonhad always existed. I mean—I knew differently, but...” She shrugged.
“You are young. All of you are young. But I was once young as well, and the world was not what it has become. I did not enterRavellonbefore it fell. But Larrantin did, once. There is very, very little of my life lived in that world, and far more lived in this one. To me, then, this is not ancient history.
“To you, it is. To almost all who still live, it is. The children who were sent to the green—your cohort—would be considered respectably old in other circumstances, but even they did not see what this place aspired to be. I know little about buildings compared to those who once taught and researched here—but I know much, compared to you.”
“Do you have some guess as to how Killianas survived?” Bellusdeo asked.
“No. I am grateful for the fact that he did—but I am uncertain that he will ever be what he was. If he cannot be, we will never have what we once had. And perhaps I am infected by nostalgia and its many traps; I am driven by sentiment and desire.”
“Which is all very well,” Bellusdeo replied. “But I am somewhat tired of this drab, quiet stone. A window or a door would be appreciated.” She turned to Kaylin.
“I know, I know.” Kaylin knelt and placed the flat of her left palm against the ground. It felt like stone: new stone, not stone worn by the passage of many feet over many years. What had she done the first time? How had she caught Killian’s attention when she hadn’t even known his name?
She didn’t know his True Name now. Even if she did, she couldn’t say it; it was probably like Helen’s—too many words, too many phrases, too many things. She couldn’t even hold one in her head for long enough to speak it the way the Arkon and Sanabalis could.
You lack practice, Hope said. It was critical.
“Now’s not the time for practice.”
If it were up to you, you would lurch between crises continually—as you do now. There is never enough time. It is making time, prioritizing that time, that is essential.
“Fine. We can talk about thatlater.”
Hope snorted. He then squawked loudly beside her ear. The Arkon’s eyes narrowed; his free hand fell to his beard. He didn’t reply.
Kaylin closed her eyes.
She could feel the stone beneath her palm, but could no longer see it. The marks—including the one that now hovered ten feet away, shedding pale light—were visible; she was used to that. They remained flat across the skin she could see.
How had she contacted Killian the first time?
Is anyone there? I’m Kaylin. Corporal Neya of the Imperial Hawks.
“Whatever you are doing, continue until I tell you to stop,” the Arkon said, his voice coming at a remove, as if he had continued to walk while she knelt.
“You could try to do it yourself,” she muttered.
