“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 meright 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 arealldangerous.”
“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.
