the carriage—which, as promised, was the usual heavy, Imperial model—was in motion, Kaylin leaned back and closed her eyes. “When were the two-headed babies born?”
“The exact date is not known.”
“Meaning the Arkon doesn’t know it, or it’s not known by the Barrani, either?”
Sanabalis raised a brow.
“Forget I asked. Why did he think it was relevant? He doesn’t even know about the midwives’ guild report yet.”
“No. He was looking for reports of anomalous and unusual manifestations of magic in concentrated geographical areas. Leaving out the usual anomalies that might occur in or around what is now the heart of the fiefs, and discounting transformations that could be directly traced to shadow storms, he found two possible events.”
She didn’t like the way he said the last word. “Events?”
“The perturbations continued for a small period of time—the exact period is uncertain, but it is not more than a month, and not less than three days.”
“What happened to end them?”
“Whatever buildup of magical potential had occurred was discharged.”
“Sanabalis, what happened?”
“The conjecture at the moment, and it is simple conjecture—we do not have enough physical evidence to make a definitive statement—indicates one of two possibilities.”
If he had been human, he would have been dragging his answer out on purpose, to be irritating. He was a Dragon. Like the Barrani, they had forever, and could usually be counted on to make someone who didn’t, really feel it. She watched the streets crawl by, glancing up at the sky to see if it looked as if there might be something as ominous as rain in the near future. The sky, however, was clear. And pink.
“The two possibilities? Before we reach the Oracular Halls?”
“Very well. The reason we have so little information about a possible event of this nature is because anything within a ten-mile radius—or possibly larger—was destroyed. It could not have been instantly destroyed, or there would be no information at all.”
She stared at him. “You think the magical buildup destroyed an area that size almost instantly?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “If you would like an immediate answer—not precisely. If you would, however, like the longer and more thoughtful answer I was attempting to give, you will cease your interruptions.”
She tried. It lasted about ten buildings. “Not precisely?”
“The intensity of the effect seems to be confined. We are attempting to monitor its spread—and I will say that the rain itself was a blessing, however it started, in that regard—and we have begun to draw up plans to evacuate much of the central area. For obvious reasons, neither the Palace nor the Halls will be evacuated. There are also other buildings that we cannot afford to empty.”
“What was the second possibility?”
“The second possibility does not—exactly—negate the first. But… In the wake of one of these geographically confined events, the first evidence of your ancestors was found.”
CHAPTER 6
“P-pardon?”
“Humans are not native to this world, as I believe we’ve mentioned before.”
“But—” She stopped talking for a few minutes. It wasn’t hard; there were too many words trying to get out the door at the same time, and the collision made her seem speechless. She dealt with the mess as quickly as possible.
He raised a brow. “If you have some disagreement to offer, attempt to apply both rationality and historicity.” His lips curved in a grin, and he added, “I will live forever. If you require some tutoring and study in either of these, I can be persuaded to wait.”
“Can I just mention that the history of humans offered in class—such as it was—involved the Caste Courts, their separate laws, and their role in the politics of the Empire? Nowhere, in any lesson, was Origin of Species covered. I would have been interested in that.”
“And not in the rest?”
“The rest was relevant. If you go back and look at my transcripts, I passed that part.”
“Indeed,” he replied, with a nod to Dragon memory. “However, you passed in a fashion that was less than laudable.” He lifted a hand before she could speak again. “Humans are not native to our world. If you need proof of that, you have only to examine what you know of species that were created in, and of, the world itself.
“It is why the Arkon strongly believes in the overlapping world theory. The spontaneous creation of an entire species—or three—is otherwise lacking in credibility. Not when they are, to all intents and purposes, sentient.”
Since this was about as complimentary as the Immortals generally condescended to be when discussing the merely mortal, Kaylin managed to stay silent.
“There are one or two scholars who disagree with this commonly held view,” he added. “And if you wish to peruse their papers, the Arkon can point them out to you. They are in the normal section of the Library, in which it is much, much more difficult to earn his ire.”
His abuse of the word commonly was about as bad as Kaylin’s abuse of the word punctual.
“So…humans arrived here, heralded by freak storms and two-headed Barrani babies.”
“That is not exactly what I said, but it will do.”
“How did they arrive?”
“That,” he replied, “is the question. We have no solid information from that period. It was not recent, and much of the information we had was lost.”
“Lost?”
“Lost,” he replied, in a tone of voice that approximated the sound of a very heavy door slamming. “If the Arkon’s conjecture—and it is a tentative conjecture—proves true, we will have an answer.”
“And you expect we’ll also have a large crater in the middle of the city.”
“That is, unfortunately, one of our fears, yes. The Emperor has already called an emergency meeting with the Lord of Swords and the Lord of Hawks. I believe the Lord of Wolves is also involved, but in an advisory capacity.”
It made sense; evacuating even a small building in times of emergency generally required the Swords. Evacuating blocks and blocks of small buildings—many of them somewhat upscale—would probably require an army. “You can’t move Evanton,” she said.
“No. The Keeper, however, is likely to survive whatever occurs. He is not our concern.”
She nodded. “If it’s close to where he is, though, could he do something to stop it?”
“If it is necessary, perhaps.”
“You don’t think so.”
“No. And it is my belief that it would pose a risk to the Garden should he try.”
“Making the cure more deadly than the disease.” She glanced out of the window as the carriage turned up the drive to the Halls. The guards that stopped the carriage stopped it for a matter of seconds; Sanabalis was a recognized visitor, and even had he not been, the carriage was marked all over with signs of Imperial ownership. “I don’t suppose the human Caste Hall has any useful libraries?”
“Compared to the Imperial ones? No. And I would thank you not to repeat that question in the Arkon’s hearing.” The carriage pulled to a stop very close to the guarded doors. “Come. Master Sabrai is expecting us.”
Master Sabrai was, in fact, waiting at the doors. He looked, at first