Page 105 of Cast in Atonement

“And last, she studied what very little information we could provide about Necromancy.”

“You’re not going to tell us that that was normal, are you?” Kaylin asked. She tried to be polite.

“It is rarer, but it is not unknown. Most of the people who are interested in the study are mortals. The Barrani in their youth are not as concerned about death. Nor are they concerned about what happens after: they know. Their names return to the Lake of Life.”

“Given the noninformation we received, I’m assuming she didn’t get much further—I mean, she was only a student and we had three Arbiters looking. Right?”

Androsse’s eyes darkened instantly. Kavallac’s darkened as well, but not as much; she clearly didn’t like Kaylin’s attitude, but could accept that perhaps Androsse deserved some of it.

“She did not find information we would consider useful in this case, no.”

“Or at all?”

“Clearly something she stumbled upon was of use, but I would guess that information would be in the Arcanum’s records.”

“You said everything eventually comes to the library.”

“Upon the death of the individual, yes. But there are exceptions; if Azoria’s books had arrived in the library, this entire conversation—such as it is—would be moot.”

“We may have further word on the possible resources in the Arcanum soon,” Teela said.

“Arbiter Starrante?” the chancellor said.

“She was very interested, as Arbiter Androsse has said, in True Names, but in specific True Names that became the source of life. She knew how the Barrani acquired their names—and felt some resentment at the lack of agency; she believed that Barrani should be allowed to waken and age like mortals did, proving themselves worthy of a name. Or dying of old age. Even the Dragons had agency the Barrani lacked.”

“And the Ancestors?” Kaylin cut in. It was always safe to interrupt Starrante.

“Very little is known about how Ancestors acquired True Names, but yes—names were required.” It was harder to tell when the Wevaran was looking at specific people because he had so many eyes, but she thought she detected a pointed glance in Androsse’s direction. “She asked how Wevaran names were granted. I am certain she asked how Ancients achieved their names; she asked Arbiter Kavallac about the acquisition of Dragon names, but the Arbiter did not choose to answer.

“There were, however, younger students of Azoria’s race on campus, and I am certain they were willing to discuss the gaining of names. All,” he added, “were male.”

“I did not choose to discuss our names with Azoria,” Kavallac agreed.

Androsse was annoyed. Kaylin half expected him to vent his annoyance; he was practically vibrating in place. But even he understood the import of this meeting, and the consequences of failing to understand what Azoria had built. “I did discuss our names. I cautioned her as well: there is a reason that my kin faded, to be replaced, in the end, by the Barrani. Our True Names were far more complicated than her kin’s. There was less danger of the knowledge of our names spreading; the will and intent to control was not enough to conquer the complexity of the names.” He fell silent.

Kaylin thought there was more; she thought it was important.

Clearly, so did Starrante. This time, his eyes rose from his body and swiveled in Androsse’s direction.

“Very well. The act of control mattered less to us because our acquisition of names changed with time. While we required True Words to live, we acquired the use of those words as we aged and gained both power and experience. We were not like Wevaran; we were not required to kill our infant siblings, if we had any. Our births were not like Barrani births. Many of our young could not survive the birthing process; they were warped beyond cohesion and recognition.

“You have your quaint caste courts. We did not. The elements of our birth were not decided by an impersonal, constructed container; they were decided by us. By those who claimed parentage. We could—and did—imbue spoken words with the element of immediate life, and we made of those words a blessing.

“Or a curse. We did not choose single words. We spoke as adults will, in sentences. Successful birth was a matter of trial and error. Children do not speak adult language at birth; not even ours. But we could understand the words we heard others speak. In time, we could understand the words we contained. They spoke to us, they spoke of us.

“Those who could hear, understand, withstand, could build upon the sentences that brought us life. We could add to them. We could, if cautious, change them, edit them, elevate their meaning.

“Many, however, were not cautious. In a few cases, the Ancients chose to end those lives for fear of the damage they might do to the rest of their creations.” His smile was grim. “I was considered too cautious, too cowardly, by most of my immediate kin. But I survived and survive still. They are merely memories, their ambitions and folly forgotten.”

“Did you explain to her how the acquisition of power—through True Words—worked?”

“I did. It was not relevant to her, or to any of her kin.”

Kaylin exhaled. “It might not be. She couldn’t imbue True Words with whatever is necessary to use them as part of a name. I don’t think any of the Barrani can.”

“No. That was not gifted them. It is bitter to think that my entire race was considered a dangerous failure, but perhaps facts cannot be argued against.”

“But there’s no physical place that you went to find these words?”

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