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“We’re done in the dining salon, sir.” She sent a cloud of dust out of the open door billow in a golden haze. “You can make yourself a tisane or I can fetch you something from the kitchens?”

I shook my head. “I’ll breakfast with everyone else.”

The sideboard in the salon was laid with delicate ceramic cups and an array of jars with silver tags around their necks identifying the herbs and spices within. A kettle sat on a small charcoal stove set in the fireplace, puffing gentle wisps of steam up the chimney. I was finding a spoon when the door opened behind me and I turned to see Temar looking much better for a good night’s sleep.

“Tisane?” I dangled a pierced silver ball by its chain.

Temar gave a brief smile but his wolf-pale eyes were still wary. “We use scraps of muslin in Kel Ar’Ayen.”

“Like most people this side of the ocean.” I clicked the little sphere open and spooned in some lemon balm. “But noble guests are accustomed to their little luxuries.”

Temar made some noise that could have been agreement or not. He studied the crystal jars before helping himself to some red-stemmed mint. “Back in my day, this shrine was a place set aside for the contemplation and study of Artifice.” A broader smile cracked his rather solemn expression. “ ‘Back in my day’; I sound like some grandsire lamenting his lost youth.” The smile faded. “Well, it’s certainly lost, along with my grandsire and everyone else I ever knew.”

“But you have new friends,” I said encouragingly. “And the House of D’Olbriot will welcome you as warmly as one of their own.”

Temar was staring out of the window, tisane forgotten. “I knew it was all gone, that they were all gone, but in Kel Ar’Ayen things aren’t so different, not to how it was when we first arrived. We’d lost all we’d worked for but we knew that, with the Elietimm destroying everything as we fled—” His voice trailed off into uncertainty.

I took the tisane ball from his unresisting hands and added some bittertooth, my mother’s specific for low spirits. “And now you’re here?” Fetching the kettle, I poured water into both cups, hoping no one would interrupt us.

Temar sighed, lacing his long fingers round the cup’s comforting warmth. “I don’t know where I am. Bremilayne was a fishing village, a few boats pulling crabs from the rocks.” We both looked down at the sizeable fleet returning from the night’s fishing, seabirds wheeling within the massive curve of the harbour wall. “The adepts founded their sanctuary here because the place was so isolated, of no use or interest to anyone else. That has certainly changed.” He gestured at the imposing houses set around the equally impressive precincts of the shrine.

“The port deals with all the Gidestan trade,” I explained. “Goods from the mountains come down the river to Inglis and are shipped down here.”

“To be carried over the mountains to the west?” Temar nodded at a shallow cleft in the looming ridge. “Even the skyline has changed. When did that landslip close the old route?”

As he pointed I saw a hollow where a great mass of stone and earth had fallen from the heights in some past age. The sprawl of broken ground wasn’t immediately obvious as trees tall enough to make ships’ masts dotted the scrub. “Not in my lifetime, or anyone since my great-grandsire’s, I should think,” I admitted.

“Perhaps I should ask your friend Casuel,” Temar suggested, and his half-smile encouraged me.

“I know something of what you’re feeling,” I reminded him.

Temar sipped his drink and looked up with frank scepticism. “How so?”

“The Aldabreshin Archipelago was as foreign a place to me as all this is to you,” I pointed out. “I found my feet there. It’ll take us a good while to cross the country, and I warn you Casuel’s determined to teach you all you need to know, and more besides, I’ll wager. In any case, Solstice Festival is only five days, and once it’s over you can take ship back to Kellarin whenever you like.”

Temar suddenly set his cup down. “I have not asked your pardon for my part in your enslavement.”

I was taken aback. “You were hardly to know what was happening, caught up in the enchantment as much as me. What’s done is gone and we need to be looking to the future, not turning over last autumn’s leaves.” I managed to make something of a joke of it and in any case I blamed Planir far more than I’d ever blame Temar.

Temar studied my face and some of the tension left him.

“And as far as we can tell, it was the Elietimm setting their claws in my mind that woke you in Relshaz and set you searching for your lost companions,” I reminded him. Temar’s fellow colonists had been sleeping like him, their enchanted minds held in seemingly innocent artefacts. Once roused, Temar’s consciousness had overwhelmed my own, starting a frantic quest for one of those trinkets that had landed me in chains. Taken for a thief, I’d been condemned to be sold into slavery to repay my so-called victim’s losses. “That Elietimm enchanter we killed in Kellarin was the one who got the Aldabreshin woman to buy me. He was after the sword that was linking me to you and the secrets of the colony.” Even my anger with the wizards didn’t blind me to the true enemy here.

“True enough.” Temar’s face hardened. “I have no doubt the Elietimm will attack us again, whatever Master Devoir may say. We must have means to defend ourselves. I refuse to stay reliant on the Archmage for protection.”

“So what do you need?” I prompted.

“First and most important we must recover the artefacts to restore those still held in enchantment,” said Temar firmly. “Several of our most adept are still lost to us.”

“How many are still asleep?” I stifled a shudder at the memory of that vast, chill cavern, dark beneath the weight of rock as unchanged through the years as those frozen bodies beneath it.

“Some three hundred and more.” Temar sounded surer of himself. “That is why I came for Solstice. It has to be the best time to trace the missing artefacts, with all the great families gathered in the capital.”

I nodded. “And Kellarin has gold, gems, furs, who knows what else to trade. Messire D’Olbriot has the contacts to help you earn the coin to buy in tools, goods, skilled men, everything you need to rebuild. He was saying Kellarin goods could rival the Gidestan trade inside five years.”

“How much can I accomplish in five days?” Temar looked a little daunted.

“I’ll be there to help,” I pointed out.

“You are D’Olbriot’s man. You will be busy with your own duties,” he protested, but with evident hope I was going to contradict him.

“You’ll be D’Olbriot’s guest,” I reminded him. “I’ll be your aide, at Messire’s direct order.” Which was fortunate, since I’d have been doing all I could for Temar, with or without the Sieur’s permission.

Faint sounds of the guest house rising for the day came from the rooms above us. I savoured the sharp tang of lemon from my cooling cup.

“You were not so keen to return to your patron’s service the last time we spoke,” Temar said cautiously. “You were talking of striking out on your own with that girl of yours. Are you no longer together?”

“Livak?” I hesitated. “Well, yes and no. That is, a future together’s easier wished for than found.”

“She seemed very independent.”

I wondered what prompted Temar’s interest in my love life. I hoped he wasn’t expecting advice on salvaging something from the disasters of his own romance with Guinalle. “Independent to the point of criminal at times, which is certainly not a road I can take, any more than she’ll settle to life in a grace house sewing her seams while I attend Messire.”

“So what are you to do?” Perhaps Temar was just looking for some distraction.

“If I can render Messire some signal service…” I faltered. “I’ve made the step to chosen man. The top of the ladder is proven man. As such I’d warrant a commission to manage an estate for D’Olbriot, or to act as his agent in some city like Relshaz. I’d be looking out for D’Olbriot interests, but no longer at the Sieur’s beck and call. Livak and I think we could live with that.” As with so many plans, it sounded less likely spoken aloud than it seemed in the privacy of my own head.