I knew what I was doing.
“You could have explained it so the rest of us understood.”
It would take far too long.
The Arkon did not ask Kaylin to touch the door ward that led to his personal, private, touch-it-and-die collection. Normally, Kaylin would consider this a mercy or a kindness; his expression today made clear that he didn’t trust her to touch even a door ward without causing problems.
The Arkon’s warning aside, there was little—beside wall and doorway—that Kaylin could touch. Nothing seemed to catch Hope’s eye. Although there were display cases and glass-fronted cabinets, all of which caused a ripple of magical discomfort across Kaylin’s skin, nothing was within easy reach. This room, which was quite large, was a simple path to the next, as was the next room.
But even the room in which ancient scrolls, remnants of armor and weapons, and gods only knew what else, were housed was not the Arkon’s destination.
She knew where he was going.
“Why did you ask about those names?”
“Because Killian mentioned them as Tower names. I don’t think they’ve ever been called by those names—but I’ve only had access to Records in the Halls of Law for a few years. Nightshade has always been called Nightshade, in the living memory of anyone in the fief.”
“The living memory of mortals is dim, and much history is lost to the narratives that supplant it, generation to generation.”
“Not all of the fieflings are mortal.”
“No. But I imagine there are very few who speak for long with the fieflords who are not.”
The faint hope that her guess about the Arkon’s destination was wrong was squashed when they arrived at a large wooden door. Three metal bands ran across it, and three locks waited for the Arkon’s keys. On the positive side, there was no magic on this door; there were no wards. On the negative side, beyond this door was a narrow stone hall that descended toward a cavern.
The Arkon handed them lamps, which he lit by breathing on their wicks. Bellusdeo looked at them as if they were dead rats.
“You will not introduce magic into the hall beyond this door,” the Arkon told her as he held the lamp out.
“Not even simple illumination?”
“Nothing at all. The wards that protect this area are easily provoked, but I consider them necessary.”
Bellusdeo took the lantern but glared at the Arkon’s back as he drew three keys in succession from the chain he wore around his neck. He opened the door.
Kaylin had had enough of caverns beneath fancy buildings to last at least two lifetimes. The Arkon didn’t care what she’d had enough of, and at least this time, they weren’t here to study—in person—the marks of the Chosen that adorned her body. She flinched, remembering that last time he’d ordered her to strip.
Then again, Dragons in their Draconic form were always naked; nudity didn’t discomfit them in either form.
“I feel that these halls could do with excavation or modernization.”
The Arkon exhaled smoke, with a tiny bit of fire at its heart.
“...I see,” Bellusdeo replied. “But I find the height of these ceilings oppressive. The only person who can walk here with any ease is Kaylin.”
“If I am content to walk with a stoop, I see no problem.”
Bellusdeo glanced up at the ceiling, which was admittedly not far from her.
They reached the last door, which was not as impressive as the first one, and the Arkon opened it into, yes, darkness.
Bellusdeo was not more impressed with the cavern than she had been with the hall that led to it, but she understood, as her eyes hit the central piece it contained, why any other interior renovation suggestions would be met with the Arkon’s lack of humor.
“An altar,” the gold Dragon said. “It’s...impressively large.”
“It is. I will now ask you to go to the far wall—to your right—and retrieve the ladders there. We will need two unless you wish to see what lies at the top of the altar, in which case we will need three.”
Bellusdeo wasn’t often sent on strictly manual errands but obeyed. Kaylin could hear the ladders as they dragged across the stone of the floor. She’d never tried to move them herself; she suspected they weighed as much as she herself did.
