“The Barrani man was, apparently, Lord Illanen of the Arcanum.”
“And the High Court.” It was Emmerian who spoke. “This is not welcome news. I believe you have encountered neither before.”
Kaylin nodded. “Does Bellusdeo’s security detail follow us into the fiefs?”
“No. Before you ask, I am not at liberty to discuss that detail.” He turned and offered Bellusdeo a shallow bow. “The Emperor does not interfere with your excursions into the greater city at your request.”
“And this has caused some difficulty?”
Emmerian met her eyes, the ghost of a smile touching his lips. “We are a difficult people.” Before he could continue, the Arkon roared. The table shook. One plate almost fell off it, but it contained food, so Kaylin caught it.
“I believe you may discuss—or fail to discuss—Lord Bellusdeo’s safety precautions at another time. Any other time. You may discuss the politics of your various caste courts and the breaking of the laws at another time, as well.”
Kaylin’s mouth fell open; Sanabalis gave her a warning stare, and she closed it again.
“...I didn’t want to give the book to Killian while he was bracketed by those two. I don’t know if he was aware of their presence, but I think he was aware that something was off, something was wrong.
“Nightshade’s lecture hall was populated with people he thought might be part of the wall of stone people we first encountered. He’s aware of himself, but... I’m not sure he can extricate himself from that wall. Neither of the cohort was part of the lectured class.
“Nightshade said they’d joined it—and then we got earthquakes. Killian didn’t stay to chat after that. He immediately went back into the building, shutting the doors behind him and his two invisible friends. When the doors shut, we couldn’t hear Nightshade, Mandoran or Terrano. But we know where they are.” She turned her attention to the book on the table. “What do you see when you look at it?”
“Not what you see. If you have finished, I believe young Emmerian has further questions for youwhich he will ask when you leave the library. Now, I would like you to open the book.”
She hesitated.
“Corporal?”
“This is the safest room you have?”
“There is a reason I chose this room. Do you believe the book is dangerous or harmful?”
“It might be meant for Killian. None of us are sentient buildings.” She exhaled. “I’m not sure I can even read it. I wanted to leave it with you, but—”
“You are now thinking of Helen?”
She nodded.
“I do not believe it would be at all helpful to leave it with Helen. Open the book.”
Kaylin reoriented the book on the table so that its cover faced her, or so that she faced its cover in the right orientation. In the light of the Arkon’s safe room, the cover was indigo, the unreadable word that occupied most of its center, silver. Silver created a rectangular border around the edge of that cover, one that seemed to follow the height of the spine.
Hope lifted a wing to her eyes; her hand froze an inch above the edge of the book’s cover.
Seen through Hope’s wing, this was not a book. It was a tablet of stone or ice—if stone, it was a pale white stone, like alabaster or marble. The word written across the cover of the book were no longer visible. Had Kaylin not received it from Larrantin, she would never have called it a book.
“You couldn’t have mentioned this earlier?”
There are some things that you see because you are Chosen, Hope replied.You do not see them as we see them. You do not see them as your friends do.
“Yes, fine—But—”
And they mentioned that they did not see a book. It is irrelevant.
“Is it dangerous to open this book?”
That, I cannot say.
She wanted to shriek, but given present company, kept it to herself. “Would you open it if you were me?”
