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“Can he explain that?”
“He says instinct, but Serralyn doesn’t believe him. Arbiter Starrante is thorough, she says. He doesn’t like guesswork. When he makes guesses, they become the foundation of research, and research will either confirm that suspicion
or kill it.
“But in the absence of time and research, he is willing to say that he doesn’t make this suggestion because you’re Chosen,
but because you’re mortal and nameless. Mortals were designed with different intentions, in his opinion.
“Shadow is not quantified as an element; it’s possible that, when the original garden was created, Shadow was not a force
recognized by the Ancients. It is possible that it was not a force that existed; that it emerged later, or perhaps concurrent
with, the birth of the Ancients. For obvious reasons, almost nothing is known about that.
“But if fire burns, if water drowns, both provide succor in other ways, and both are necessary to life as we know it. It is
possible that Shadow is, if you will, the chaotic factor, the change factor, that arises from life itself. If that is the case, it implies that it is necessary for life, just as fire, air, or water are, because all
living things change.
“There is very little research done—as you are well aware—about that possibility.
But there is some, and there are hints of its existence in magical theory and research papers that were written during the rise, and height, of Ravellon before its fall.
None of those papers reference Shadow in any fashion, but they reference new forms of magic, new forms of
power. And, of course, multiple worlds.
“He has been focused now on the magic of transformation, where he feels hints of Shadow might be found. Certainly the fall
of Ravellon caused the fall of many worlds—but its fall was accelerated, and by the time the danger was understood and credible, there
was very little time to research and take notes. There was time to flee, time to build fortifications—such as the Towers,
although those rose only after all hope was lost.
“It is Arbiter Starrante’s belief, and Arbiter Androsse concurs, that research of that nature, or papers, or even desperately
written warnings, were trapped within Ravellon. They did not emerge to join the library’s extensive archive. Whether they could not leave or could not be added due to the
precautions taken by the Ancients, we cannot say; we are aware that there are some few Arcanists and sorcerers who could prevent
their work from becoming part of the archive.
“Before you ask—because he’s certain you will—investigation into the cause of Ravellon’s fall has been done in the library, but the library was inaccessible for a long period because the Academia was submerged
to make way for the Towers. The records pored over in those investigations—anything researched while the city stood and shone
as a beacon—are records all three of the Arbiters know relatively well.
“Starrante is familiar with research into transformation. That research was not considered part of Ravellon’s fall; it is a separate field of interest. Early transformation research did not involve sentient beings; much of it involved materials for building or crafting.
The highest of spires in the city itself were not created with quarried stone and grown wood but magically transformed goods.
Short-term transformation was apparently trivial—for a value of trivial that confounds most of the Arcanists of the present day who have recently begun to visit the library.
But permanent transformation was, where it could be achieved, reliable and persistent.
“Where sentient beings were concerned, however, it was far less reliable—and far more researched. We do not have records of
the completion of that research but have retained some of the initial research itself. In this merging and blending of disparate
spells and powers, some research was done in the green; most was conducted within the city itself.
“Arbiter Starrante believes that it is the living transformation research that might have the strongest bearing on the question
of Shadow as an elemental, separate force.”
“Was there a lot about moving between planes?”
“He says there was, although this was considered an entirely separate school of research; in some cases, it was weaponized
research. It arose from the study of portals—but the portals being studied were constructed by the Ancients for their own
convenience.”
“So transformation and multiple planes didn’t cross over.”
Annarion grimaced. “Starrante is apparently whirring like a machine because you asked that question. Serralyn had to remind
him she was there because he spit a web and almost vanished into the archives.”
“Why? Was it a smart question? I don’t usually ask those, if you believe my former teachers.”
“I think it’s a combination of both the question and the context.
I’d say the answer is a definite maybe. But .
. . we sort of know that because of Terrano.
The most obvious example is his eyes—he can alter those here.
None of us enjoy it, and while most of us can do it, it gives us wicked headaches.
But he’s just a lot more flexible with form and shape when he needs to be.
There are places he can walk that require changes—but he walks those planes the way he walks this one when he doesn’t want to be seen: not quite there, not quite here. ”
Kaylin exhaled. “One more question for Serralyn to pass on. Did the transformation research involve reaching into the Outlands?
The potentia?”
“Yes, in some cases. The potentia is powerful, but the power is localized. You’ve seen that with Helen, Killianas, and the
Hallionne. Helen can create anything her occupants desire—but it will not persist beyond Helen’s boundaries. Some sought to
make those creations permanent; others simply considered a building such as Helen a perfect place to house or create art,
or to store it safely so that visitors might see it. There were artists who created their masterpieces in buildings such as
Helen, limited only by what they could envision.
“And he apologizes for the digression. The green is not well-studied, but he believes it is, in some fashion, the earliest
possible iteration of a sentient space.”
Yvonne snorted. Loudly.
“That’s not what is believed in the West March, I take it?” Kaylin asked.
“The green doesn’t care what we believe,” she replied. “But if what Severn said was true, the green can’t be affected by Shadow,
except at its own will. And no, before you ask, I wasn’t a servant of the green. Maybe, in time, I might have aspired to that,
but I speak with the authority of one who lives in its lee, not one who has studied or communed with it.”
“But the green might have communed with you,” Kaylin replied.
There was just too much information to take in, too much to untangle; some of it would have to be disentangled—if possible—at its source.
In this case, that was the High Halls. But the green wasn’t reaching out to the High Halls; it was reaching out to Helen, or to her numerous tenants.
To Kaylin, in her poorly chosen dress. To Nightshade, who couldn’t respond to the call of the Teller’s crown.
And to Yvonne, who had been saved by the combined effort of the green and Severn.
Not all change is dangerous. Kaylin blinked at the voice and then turned to look at Hope. Hope was standing on her shoulder, his neck elongated, his eyes
on Nightshade. Not all change is positive. Positive, negative—often they are decided after the fact, but from very different viewpoints.
“Can you wake Nightshade?” she asked.
There is very little I cannot do if you are willing to pay the price.
“And the price?” She almost never asked this question but felt a growing sense of urgency.
You would not pay it, Chosen. This is not a situation that requires my intervention, if you are careful.
“Serralyn actually agrees with Yvonne, for what it’s worth.” Annarion’s eyes widened. “Whatever you think you’re going to
do, Terrano suggests you do it now.”
“Helen?”
“I am currently in communication with Terrano,” Helen replied. “Something is attempting to create a door within my boundaries.”
“Would you have noticed it without Terrano?”
“Not immediately, and perhaps not in time.”
“Is it the same path Terrano got caught on the last time?”
“He believes it is. But . . .”
“But?”
“The planes of existence, the planes he crosses and moves between, do not exert gravity, for want of a better analogy.”
“And this path does.”
“It appears to; it is subtle. Without caution, the path will draw people to it.”
“It took Mandoran some time to reach Terrano in the fiefs.”
“Mandoran is naturally more cautious than his brother. And as I said, it’s subtle.”
Annarion shook his head. “Mandoran doesn’t think it’s subtle this time—his guess is they’re walking that small, created planar
tunnel, but they’re also using magic within their defined space; he says the pull is noticeable.”
“Are people trying to enter?”
“I cannot sense people,” Helen replied. “Just the entry point. But if the point is anchored here, people are certain to follow.”
“You want to trap them here.”
“I believe it would be to our advantage to have them here, yes,” Helen replied. “But the idea was not mine. It was Teela’s.”
“Nightshade is here—it’s too risky. It wouldn’t be difficult for his enemies to find out where he is. They’re probably here
to finish the job.”
“An’Tellarus is here. She is not pleased. Fallessian has left Mrs. Erickson in her rooms and has joined Sedarias. Allaron
is with her now, as well.”
“Serralyn better not be on the way.”
“She is not. Valliant remains with her; they are both in the library. She is possibly the safest person in the cohort at the
moment. Arbiter Androsse, apprised of the presence of the green here, has joined Arbiter Starrante in his research.”