Drimma bear supplies across.”
“Just so,” said Aravan.
Arandor thought a moment and then said, “Kachar is the deeve of the Drimma nearest to that crossing; who is DelfLord there?”
“Borak,” said Aravan.
“Good, then,” said the captain. “I will send an emissary to DelfLord Borak.”
Aravan turned to Alamar. “Wouldst thou ask one of the Seers to go with the envoy? Together they should be able to convince Borak to agree. I mean, after all, it is a great boon we offer.”
Arandor frowned. “Great boon?”
“Why, the manner of the crossing of the Planes,” said Alamar.
“Ah, yes,” replied Arandor.
Alamar glanced at Aylis. “Now, as to a Seer to send on that mission—”
“I will go, Father,” said Aylis.
“No, daughter. I can see that you and that young sprout of a ship’s captain are eager to rejoin the Eroean and set off to who knows where. Instead, I will ask Delen to go. He’s eager to visit Mithgar.”
“As you wish, Father,” said Aylis, her gaze downcast, though she squeezed Aravan’s hand in delight.
Arandor said, “Then we are in accord: if High King Ryon and DelfLord Borak also agree, it seems we have a framework for the upkeep of the black fortress, as well as the plans to assure the ways into Mithgar and Adonar and Vadaria are warded against Spawn escaping from Neddra.”
Alamar looked at the empty bottle before him and said, “We’d drink a toast to that had we a bottle of good brandy.” Then he laughed and added, “Or even a bottle of swill.”
11
Warding
NEXUS
MID WINTER, 6E1
Asevenday later, as the dull red sun stood at the zenith—neither morning nor afternoon, but the in-between time necessary for beings to cross out from Neddra and unto Vadaria—Aravan and Aylis began the chant that would take them over to the Mageworld. They were going to collect some of Aylis’s belongings—auguring cards, a viewing bowl and dark dye, a finding needle, a small crystal globe, and other such Seer’s gear—for she and Aravan were on the first leg of their journey to Mithgar, to Merchants Crossing in Jugo, where the Elvenship Eroean was moored and her crew patiently waited for their captain to return.
As the pair emerged on the plateau in Vadaria, the clanking sounds of a hammer against a chisel against stone split the air, along with some venting of oaths. Aravan frowned and looked up and about, and on the heights cupping the flat he saw several Mages standing ward. Aylis waved up at them, and one sketched a salute while the others nodded or raised hands in greeting. Then she and Aravan moved onward. As they rounded the shoulder of the bluff hemming in the table, they saw the reason for the cursing: by pulley and rope, Mages were hoisting a large block of stone up to a scaffold above. Down below, others worked with hammers and chisels, dressing the next block. Still others led horses drawing wains up the slopes below, and bringing more stone to the site. Magekind was at work building a tower, a bastion to ward the in-between.
Aravan glanced up at the barely begun fortification and laughed. “I thought I would see stones floating free through the air to be precisely maneuvered into place. But instead I see high-rising platforms and ropes and pulleys and mortar-filled hods and trowels and hammers and chisels and sweating and straining people.”
Aylis grinned and said, “It would take much to erect it by castings. The loss would not justify the gain.”
Aravan frowned and said, “Methinks ye Mages should have asked the Drimma to build the tower.”
Aylis turned up a hand, a rueful grin on her face. “You are right, Chier. I ween none thought of it.”
“ ’Tis all the more reason for Durek’s line to learn to go in-between.”
Aylis looked at