The Arkon raised his.
“Is the book you’re carrying not cold?”
The mound of the Arkon’s palm made contact with the wall, almost entirely covering the rune Kaylin had placed there. “Cold?”
“When I carry it, it’s like I’ve brought the worst of winter with me—and I’m dressed for summer. It’scold.”
“It is cold, yes,” the Arkon then replied.
“But don’t you—”
“Cold is not one of the things that will kill a Dragon.”
“What we cover in racial integration classes isnothow to kill a Dragon. For obvious reasons.”
“If you wish to take umbrage at—” The Arkon stopped. His hand remained against the wall, but the rune that his palm had covered had spread somehow. The major line that formed the bulk of its shape crept out, to the left and the right of that hand; the smaller dots or strokes that formed the rest spread, as well. The whole of the word, absent only the Arkon’s hand, could be seen—almost as if the wall had been built to contain it.
No, not just the wall. The upper and lower elements of the simple word continued to spread. When they reached the corners made by floor and ceiling, they didn’t bend to encompass either that floor or ceiling. They seemed to vanish, but watching, Kaylin was certain that they were simply reaching for unseen heights—or depths.
The line that had been the majority of the word continued its spread to the left and right, thickening as it did. She could no longer see the beginning—or the end—of the line; it seemed to be part of the wall on which it had been placed. The Arkon’s touch had enlarged it, somehow. Kaylin wasn’t certain if the Arkon had done something deliberate, but if he had, it was something inaudible and invisible to her eyes.
When the whole of the wall for as far as she could see in either direction was now a golden, glowing gold, the wall itself began to shiver; the shiver built to a shudder. Kaylin took an involuntary step back; Hope bit her ear, and she stopped moving.
“You know,” she told the familiar, “youcouldjust speak.”
His teeth hadn’t caused bleeding, but he hadn’t let go of her ear lobe, which implied he was keeping that option open. Since his mouth was occupied, he probably couldn’t speak clearly. He didn’t try.
Bellusdeo hadn’t taken the same step back that she had, and the Arkon’s hand still rested against what had been featureless, endless stone moments before. Kaylin should have been surprised when the wall began to crumble. She could hear the sound of stone hitting stone, but could see nothing as she watched.
“It is,” the Arkon said, his hand still raised, “a door ward. Of a kind. I advise you not to move.”
“Can you lower your hand?”
The question seemed to annoy him. “I advise you not to moveandnot to speak.”
Bellusdeo’s chuckle was low and brief. “It does my heart good to see you thus,” she told the older Dragon. “It is so very, very nostalgic.”
If the Arkon heard her at all, he made no reply; Kaylin suspected that he hadn’t. She could see only his face in profile, but the width of his eyes, the fact that the lower membrane was open, and the hint—it was hard to see color from this vantage—of silver implied surprise. Wonder.
She understood that there was something the Arkon wanted from Killian and from this place. She thought, in the moment that the wall vanished, she understood what it was.
He held out his hand to Bellusdeo. She took it without comment. “Kaylin.”
She waited for the rest of the words; she got a frustrated snort of smoke instead.
“I believe he intends that you either take my hand,” Bellusdeo said, “or grab his arm or shoulder—something that you can easily reach. He is not certain that we will not be separated.”
I concur, Nightshade said.I admit I am envious. Our lunch, such as it is, is nowhere near as fascinating or compelling as what has become of your word, Chosen.
I’d switch places, if I could. Can you see the rest of the student body?
They have not yet closed the hall’s doors.
They close the doors?
I believe it is to indicate that those who are late will have to wait for the next meal.
Kaylin would never have been late. She looked as Nightshade looked, and felt both dismay and disgust.
