Page 89 of Cast in Conflict

“I see a door ward,” Bellusdeo said. Emmerian nodded.

Great. This was not the ideal start to their first visit to a Tower. She turned to Severn, who nodded; she then borrowed his eyes, or at least his vision, through the True Name bond. The True Name that Kaylin shouldn’t have had, because she was mortal and mortals could live perfectly fine without them.

There was a ward on the door, at the height of Kaylin’s head. Or rather, there was a mark on the door that would—on normal but more expensive Elantran doors—have been a door ward. It was strangely shaped; it didn’t bear the usual structural form of the marks that adorned over half her skin.

“I don’t think the ward is a word,” she finally said.

“It is,” Emmerian replied. He glanced at Bellusdeo, who was frowning. After a pause, she nodded. Kaylin hadn’t known that Dragons even had a written language; none of the official documents were written in it. Imperial documents were Barrani all the tedious, long-winded way down.

“Writing was not something actively pursued except by the dedicated or the obsessed,” Bellusdeo added. “It is not necessary for a race with almost perfect memory, and it would not hone our ability to fight. But...I recognize it.”

“Do you know what it means?” Kaylin asked.

Bellusdeo shook her head slowly, as if reluctant to expose ignorance in this place. Emmerian said, “It means flight.”

“Like—flying, flight?”

“Yes.”

“But weren’t your military units called flights?”

“Yes, in Barrani.”

“Was it used on doors?”

“The Aerie had very few doors,” he replied. “But some arches had been constructed, and this was the keystone to one.”

“And if there was no written language, how did the Arkon—the chancellor—ever come to be what he was?”

“There was a written language. My greatest pity at the moment is reserved for Sanabalis, who must now learn the parts of it he did not learn in his youth. And no, Lord Kaylin, I did not learn it, either. I was young, strong, healthy, and there was a war. But this particular word was used in the presence of those of us who could both fly and walk as you normally walk. It was above arches that were meant for people our current size to pass through.”

“Did they have a different word for those who couldn’t?”

“Children. If it helps,” he added, at her expression, “Bellusdeo would not have been allowed through that particular arch.”

“I was.”

“Passing through it doesn’t imply permission. Your test was different.”

“It wasn’t a test.”

“No? Perhaps not in your Aerie. In ours it was a declaration of adulthood: we found, for ourselves, the duality of name that defines us as adults, and we did not lose that knowledge. The one side did not overwhelm the other. Only those who could transform could fit beneath the arch.”

Meaning males. Females could have walked beneath the arch from birth. “So...you think this is meant for you two? For Dragons?”

Emmerian nodded.

“Then why can Severn see it?”

“That is a reasonable question; I cannot answer it. The ward, such as it is, is meant for us.”

“For you,” Bellusdeo replied.

“Us. I have no intention of becoming the Tower’s lord; I have sworn my oaths of allegiance, and I will not break them for anything less than the hoard I have not yet found.”

“The Tower could not expect that all Dragons seeing this would understand it.”

“The former Arkon couldn’t expect that either. You will note it never stopped him.”

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