Candallar was almost at a loss for words. Given the words he did speak, that would have been a boon to him. “Karriamis is mine; I am Lord of the Tower that once bore his name. It bears mine now.”
The Arkon said something that didn’t reach Kaylin’s ears; it did reach Killian’s.
“And I bear the symbols of the highest office in the Academia. I am chancellor here. I amlord.”
“I do not believe Karriamis intentionally misled you,” Killian said. “But what he is, and what I am, are not the same. We were not built for the same purpose, and we were not built in the same environment. Chancellor is the word for one who rules the Academia—but it is a word that implies responsibility, not power.
“You are, I perceive, young. Young and afraid, as the young oft are.”
Candallar’s eyes were indigo. Beside him, Illanen took a step back.
“I owe you a great debt. If you failed to understand what the Academia represents, you nonetheless offered me a new beginning. The reasons for it matter little to the boon itself. I am loath to reward your service with death.” As he spoke, a breeze caught the drape of his hair.
His hair, now the same color as the Consort’s.
Kaylin had never asked the Consort why her hair, alone of all the Barrani, was white—but she would, the next time they met.
“I am not Barrani,” Killian said, and Kaylin remembered that Killian was a building. “Nor was I, before the Academia at last came into being.”
Ancestor, she thought. Just as Androsse had once been.
Illanen stepped to the side, to increase the distance between him and Candallar; his gaze briefly touched the book he had surrendered into Candallar’s keeping. Baltrin, noting the Arcanist’s subtle retreat, retreated, as well. Neither ran nor gave voice to their growing discomfort.
Candallar was alone. He was not afraid. Not yet.
“The items you possess are keys,” Killian continued. “They are keys to a home that are left should disaster strike; you have used those keys, and you have entered the Academia. I hear Karriamis now, although his voice is distant; I hear Durandel, as well.
“If you ever desire it, you are welcome to study here—but those keys must now be left behind, waiting upon another emergency, another great cataclysm.” He stepped forward and held out his left hand.
Candallar retreated, the movement slow. The indigo of his eyes developed flecks of livid color.
“That,” Killian said in a sterner voice, “is forbidden here. You play at magics you do not understand, seeking power; in your ignorance, you—and your foolish allies—will doom yourselves.
“It is not your doom that is my concern. You are free to play at power—but youwill not do it here.”
His voice was soft; the room shook anyway. The light went out of Candallar’s eyes.
“You have heard that knowledge is power.”
Candallar said nothing.
“And in some fashion, it is. But incomplete knowledge is not power; it is death and destruction. In some things, you cannot merely retrieve knowledge at your convenience and disregard the rest. I say again: I owe you a boon. But a boon is not, in the end, a form of mindless slavery. What the Academia was, and what it will be, is not a simple game of power and control.
“In the meantime, I will ask you—and your followers—to leave. You may leave by the front doors, or you may be ejected in a harsher fashion; the choice is up to you.”
He then turned to Illanen. “Yes,” he said, although the Arcanist had not spoken a word. “There is knowledge here—and should you desire it, you are free to apply to join the student body. Your application will be considered by the masters on the committee—and by me.”
The three Arbiters turned toward each other, their backs forming a triangle as Killian continued to speak. Their voices were muted; barely audible.
“You will, however, leave the keys; the keeper is now awake and aware, and they will no longer be necessary.” Once again, he extended his hand.
To Kaylin’s surprise, Illanen said, “Give him the...keys.”
Candallar did not move.
“Can you not sense it? The building is alive, just as the Hallionne are alive. There is no unguarded thought you might have that the building does not immediately hear. If he will allow us to walk through the front doors on our way out, accept that offer.”
Candallar shook his head, at a loss for words. Kaylin, under different circumstances, might have pitied him.
