After several days of observation I have concluded that there is no threat from Idhytse. Although the ruins are indeed infested by scavengers, criminals and other undesirable sorts, there is little threat of them organizing in any fashion that could pose a threat to the garrison and walls protecting Sevai Sazha, much less Sjan Saal itself. Periodic checks may be advisable, but no more frequently than every third-risen eighth of days. The local dregs keep their own numbers in check, one slit throat at a time.

- Military Report archived from the early reign of Lyneje Di Sazhocel Ciqi, Sjan Saal garrison.

Warm light filtered through the gateway, playing over the black stone of the receiving hall as the scriptsmith guards stacked crates of grain and cured meats upon the floor. They moved slowly, cautiously, their eyes perpetually flicking upwards to the solid ring of Aesvain iron surrounding them, the halberdiers standing impassively in full armor beside their pikes.

Despite their slow pace they finished in short order, retreating through the portal as a smaller group of red-robed scriptsmiths took their place. They bore small boxes, caskets and carefully-wrapped bundles, moving with the same caution as the men who had come before them - but their attention was entirely on the artifacts they carried.

When the last of them had reverently lowered their burdens to the floor and left the way they came, Vumo came to stand in front of the gateway with Sjogydhu hovering just over his shoulder. The elderly man’s air of nonchalance contrasted starkly with Sjogydhu’s expressionless stare, which stayed locked on Mark and Jesse as they walked up to stand across the Gateway’s threshold.

“Well,” Mark said brightly, “that went great, don’t you think?”

Vumo clucked his tongue and smiled. “Better than you expected, considering the welcome you had prepared for us,” he said.

“We just wanted to make sure nobody got any funny ideas,” Mark said, baring his teeth when he returned the smile. “You know, in the name of friendly relations.”

“Charming,” Vumo replied. “But I think we both know that if the Aesvain were the extent of your resources our negotiations would have been substantially different. As it stands, however…” His eyes crinkled in a half-smile. “We will reopen the gateway at sunrise, eight days hence. Please have Tesu Ras or Tasja Ras write a summary of each item we’ve provided before then.” He paused, his eyes flicking to the pile of mismatched treasures. “Sjogydhu Qa, that nearest stone casket looks alarmingly similar to the vessel that holds the Stone of Auje.”

The tall guard nodded. “It is, Vumo Ra.”

Vumo shot him a stern look, then turned back to Mark. “Tell them to be careful with that one,” he said. “Touching the stone is fatal. My apologies, there should have been a warning on that casket. Surely all of the rest are in order, though - right, Sjogydhu?”

“A regrettable oversight,” Sjogydhu rumbled, sounding unperturbed as he shifted his dark eyes to stare at the two soldiers. “I’ll take measures to ensure it does not happen again.”

“Please do,” Vumo sighed, dismissing him with a wave of his hand. He looked up at Mark and Jesse with an air of apologetic amusement. “I try to foster enthusiasm in my ranks, but there is the occasional overreach.”

“We were going to have Maja screen them first anyway,” Jesse said coolly. “Just to be sure.”

Vumo glanced at him, his eyes flicking up to Jesse’s face and down to the hand resting on Goresje’s sword in quick succession. “Very prudent of you,” Vumo replied, the corner of his mouth ticking upwards. “I assume now you will be heading to Idhytse?”

Mark raised an eyebrow. “Don’t see how that’s any of your business, unless you managed to get us a ride back,” he said.

“There was never any question of if I could get the chariot from Citsuje Di,” Vumo said wryly, “only what it would cost. It set out from Ce Raedhil the day I returned, and should be in Idhytse before our next scheduled meeting.” He gave Mark a thin smile. “I regret that it will not make it back in time for any who ride along to participate, but in the event that some in your party accompany it I can promise them food, lodging and safety in Ce Raedhil until the next exchange.”

“Even if they’re Aesvain?” Mark said innocently, returning the smile.

Vumo sighed and rubbed his head, looking exasperated. “Yes, although that would make things needlessly difficult. Borrowing the king’s chariot is one thing, but if it became known that we made use of it to ferry an Aesvain - it would be best to avoid it, if possible.”

“Making your life complicated would be the last thing we’d want,” Mark said. “But don’t worry, I think most of us would prefer to come back by gateway.” He shrugged. “We’ll lead the driver or anyone you send to the gateway room, they can take the keystone when we’re done.”

“I hope it is that simple,” Vumo said. “Idhytse is rife with scavengers and outlaws, many of whom would view a royal chariot as little more than a rolling feast of plunder.” He handed Mark a thin disc of metal with a translucent stone set into the center. “The driver of the chariot has the counterpart to this drai sacetina. Each will glow when he is close to the city, pointing the way to its other half. Meet him outside the city at dusk on the day he arrives, then lead him under cover of darkness to the gateway.”

Mark studied the disc for a moment before tucking it into his pocket. “You’ve got a trick for everything, don’t you?” he muttered.

Vumo chuckled. “The fact that we are talking at a place of your choosing rather than mine should tell you otherwise,” he said dryly, raising an eyebrow. “Now, I believe our business for today is concluded. Maja preserve you all.”

“Damn right, she does,” Mark drawled, taking a half-step away from the gateway as the plane under the arch flashed brightly and vanished, leaving the room dark and quiet save for the faint clank of shifting armor.

Jyte stepped forward, looking over the food with a disapproving eye. “I mislike this,” he grunted, sniffing at a sack of milled jehan. “But we’ve few options, and it seems like wholesome food at first glance.”

“Here’s hoping,” Mark muttered, bending down to yank the keystone from the gateway’s threshold. Its charge crystal twinkled brightly in the dim room, casting flickers of light over their faces. “Jesse, can you ask Maja to go over the food as well? I’m not sure if she can detect poison or whatever, but she’ll at least be able to tell us if there’s a bomb in the groceries.”

Jesse nodded and spoke softly to nobody in particular as Jyte moved to disperse his men. A moment later Maja appeared in a puff of glowing motes, drifting slowly over to the pile of artifacts without uttering a word. Mark and Jesse watched her float over the pile for a few moments before Mark coughed and scratched his head.

“I guess she’ll be done when she’s done,” he said, shifting to English. “I can send Tesu down when I head back, unless you think it’s going to take a while.”

“Honestly, I have no idea,” Jesse said. “Just Tesu? I’d have thought you’d want Tasja on this too. Tesu’s kind of useless when he spends too much time around Maja.”

Mark nodded. “Yeah, but I don’t want the kid getting blowed up if Sjogydhu hid anything else in there. He can take a look once Tesu’s done, if there’s time.”

“Fair,” Jesse said. “I think that was all of it, though.” He frowned. “Actually, I think there’s a good chance that Vumo and Sjogydhu planned that. A little display of goodwill on his part, to get him into our good graces.”

“I’d believe it,” Mark sighed. “The man is relentless, and I doubt he’ll ever give up trying to get a moment alone with Maja. He’ll ask again when they’ve got the gateway set up in Idran Saal, I bet, before he lets the Aesvain in the camps come through.”

Jesse nodded absently, following Maja’s progress as she floated among the haphazard artifacts in front of the gate. She was upside-down, now, feet pointing upwards as she hovered with her eyes inches from one of the blackstone caskets.

“Hey, man,” Mark said, touching Jesse on the shoulder. “I’ve been meaning to ask, are you all right?”

“What?” Jesse asked, turning to face him. “I’m fine. Could use some more sleep, I guess.”

Mark chuckled, nodding his head. “Should have asked Vumo for some of those beds from his tower,” he said. “Slipped my mind. But really, you’ve been kind of - I don’t know, scattered? Ever since Vumo visited the first time. Did he say something to you when you were talking?”

Jesse blanched before shaking his head slowly. “No, just talked a bit about the sword,” Jesse said. “About Goresje, before he made it. Really, I’m fine.”

“If you say so,” Mark replied, sounding doubtful. “But if you need anything from me, just let me know. I get that I haven’t been the best guy to talk to these past couple of weeks-”

“What are you talking about?” Jesse said, his face cracking into a smile. “You’ve been holding the entire group together this whole time. I should be asking you if you need anything.”

Mark scratched his head. “You know how it is, we’re all just getting through the days one at a time,” he muttered, sounding faintly embarrassed. “I just feel like I wasn’t really there with you when you were dealing with your hero business.”

He coughed into his hand. “You wanted to give it some time and I kept pushing you in the other direction - and, well, now that I see how it’s turning out I just wanted to say that it was a mistake not to back your play from square one.” He grinned. “You had the right idea even before we knew your girl was a little slice of Maja. Now it’s downright reassuring knowing we’ve got her on our side. There’s too much weird shit out there for us not to have some counterplay, you know?”

Jesse bit his lip and nodded, looking down at the floor, and Mark frowned.

“All right, that’s it,” Mark insisted. “There is something going on, isn’t there? Something to do with her?”

Jesse froze for a moment, looking stricken, then nodded slowly. “It’s just something else that came up after that conversation I had with her,” he said. “I don’t think it’s a problem, but it is… worrying, a little.”

“Not related to the compulsions you guys are getting, though, right?” Mark asked. “I thought you said those weren’t anything malicious.”

Maja abruptly spun back to a more normal orientation, then floated back down to examine a large axe with its blade thickly-wrapped in leathers. The two men turned to watch her for a moment before Jesse shook his head and sighed. “It’s not anything like that,” he said. “I don’t want to say anything until I know more - actually, I think there might be a chance to clear some of it up when we’re in Idhytse.”

“Oh yeah?” Mark said. “Well, that’s convenient. I figure now that we’ve got the shipment taken care of we can have Jyte batten down the hatches and head out. I want to give ourselves as much time as possible to trawl through the city looking for cool old junk.”

Jesse blinked, surprised, and Mark laughed. “What?” he said, “You almost look disappointed that I didn’t go after you for answers.” He stretched languorously, then clapped Jesse on the shoulder. “Look, man, you’re the expert on all things related to magical possession. You’ve known the right steps at every move. You say we should wait, then we wait. I’ll be right there behind you when it’s time to move.”

“Thanks,” Jesse said weakly, giving Mark a smile. “Thanks, I really appreciate it.”

Tasja frowned, staring at the leather strip in his hand as he poked it experimentally into a finely-wrought brass buckle. “I know where it’s supposed to go,” he muttered, “but I have no idea how it’s supposed to stay there.”

“Perhaps they’re meant to be tied?” Gusje suggested, holding up her own coat-of-plates. It shimmered with rectangular metal tiles, each faintly inlaid with intricate script and fastened securely to a leather backing. Although there was a slight overlap, the tiles slid over each other with an oily-smooth grace and made no noise whatsoever.

Tasja frowned. “This is not flexible cordage,” he protested. “It’s a thick strap two fingers wide, and there’s not enough slack left to tie. There has to be some trick we’re missing.”

“Aye,” Jyte said, walking up beside them with a knowing grin. He had shed his armor from before, now clad only in a basic tunic and carrying a lumpy sack. “Several, actually. You’ve not worn armor before this, I take it.”

Gusje shook her head, and Tasja looked down at his gangly frame and snorted. “I’ve only ever been in danger of papercuts,” he said. “I don’t even know why I’m bothering, it’s not like I’m going with them.”

“It’s your armor,” Jyte said reproachfully, setting down his sack and walking over to inspect the piece Tasja was struggling with. He lifted the coat out of his hands, turning it over with an appraising look. “Armor cares for a man only as much as he cares in return. And though I’ve no love for the Sjocelym, their armor is well-worth the small effort it demands for wear and maintenance. Vumo is a thief and a murderer - but not a cheat, at least not for today.”

The Aesvain captain motioned for Tasja to come near and began helping him into the coat. “Armor isn’t clothes,” he grunted. “Scripted armor least of all. You’ve got to move differently, know the effects it brings, learn to walk as if the script was etched into your skin.” He slid the troublesome strap through its buckle and doubled it back onto itself. It froze in place, not slipping even a hair from where he had fitted it.

Tasja twisted to look down at himself, a pleased expression on his face. “It’s so light,” he marvelled. “I thought it would restrict my motions more.” He brushed his fingers over the plates, then looked back up at Jyte. “How do I learn what effects the armor has? There was nothing included that explained it.”

“Bah, even if there were you couldn’t trust it,” Jyte said. “The armorer’s vision and the armor itself are seldom the same thing. There’s only one way to know.” He pivoted mid-sentence, turning towards Tasja with eyes that were suddenly, horrifyingly blank. His arm raised up to a high-ready position, and Tasja took an involuntary step backwards - but too late to avoid Jyte’s open-handed strike directly to the center of his chest. His hand slammed into Tasja’s armor hard enough to create an echoing report through the room.

Tasja looked down and blinked, stunned. He had barely felt a thing.

Jyte nodded in approval, clenching his hand into a fist. “Sjocelym kit is all about force,” he said. “An Aesvain coat would’ve taken the full impact into the metal. We use few scripts, and they’ve all got their roots in strengthening the armor until it’s harder than anything natural.”

He tapped one of the armor scales. “This will be resilient too, unless I’ve misjudged its quality, but the real strength will be the way it spreads a blow. Each plate holds with the strength of all combined, and each takes a portion of the force.”

Tasja looked down at the armor with renewed appreciation. “I don’t know much about the practicalities of scriptsmithing, but I know enough to realize how difficult that is. There must be a couple hundred plates in this coat. The level of precision needed to bind them…” He shook his head. “I don’t understand why Vumo gave this to us. This armor must be one of the most valuable things I’ve ever seen, much less owned.”

“Perhaps he wanted you to feel safe,” Jyte grunted. “Complacent. But keep in mind, it’s just a coat.” His hand flashed out, blurring to lay a single finger lightly on the side of Tasja’s bare neck. Tasja froze, but by the time the sensation registered Jyte’s hand was already back at his side. “Your talents lie outside of battle, Hetasi. Know your armor even so, but don’t think you’ve got to fight on account of Vumo’s gift.”

He turned to look at Gusje, who had already donned her own coat following Jyte’s example. The captain’s lips split in a toothy grin as he walked around her, inspecting the fastenings. He made a few minor adjustments before stepping back with a nod of approval.

“Good!” he said. “You’d pulled it too tight in some spots. I’ve seen you fight before, like an esemadhe running on a hot stone. You need reach, speed, because even if you move like the esemadhe-” His foot lashed out in a kick that took Gusje in the sternum, sending her sprawling across the floor. “-you’re a tiny one, an Esamadhe,” he chuckled. “The strike may spread, but force is force. Keep the armor loose and you’ve got a better chance of avoiding the hit altogether.”

“Which reminds me,” he said, bending down to take a folded bundle of golden cloth from his sack. Gusje picked herself up just in time to catch the bundle as he tossed it. “This should help a bit. A cloak can trick the eye, keep your enemy looking in the wrong place.”

Gusje shook the cloth out, then looked up at Jyte in astonishment. “This is one of your cloaks,” she protested.

“One of ours,” Jyte said, nodding his head at her and tossing another bundle at Tasja. “You as well. Gold is a better color for you than red.”

He caught it, nonplussed. “I don’t know what to say,” he mumbled.

Jyte grinned at them. “Just wear it,” he said. “The gold cloak shelters and protects the people. You’ve more than earned it - all of you,” he said, nodding across the room. Gusje turned to look and saw Jesse and Mark striding across the room in outsize gold cloaks, looking resplendent in their new armor. “Besides,” he added conspiratorially, “I’ve got a notion that it’ll stick in that old thief’s gullet when he sees his gifts draped with Aesvain cloth.”

Gusje smirked at the surprisingly petty sentiment coming from the captain, but when she turned to comment on it he had slipped away. Tasja remained flummoxed, staring at the bundle in his hands until Mark walked up and clapped him on the shoulder.

“I see Jyte got you your presents,” he said cheerfully. “I was never a cloak guy, really, but it’d be silly to go out in the sun without something to cover the armor.” He ruffled Tasja’s hair, startling him out of his reverie. “Did he hit you with your Aesvain names as well? He kind of hinted that he’d come up with something appropriate.”

“Ah,” Tasja said, blinking. “That’s what that was. He called me Hetasi.”

Jesse nodded. “The One that Learns,” he said, smiling. “I think it works. How about you?” He looked down at Gusje, who scowled.

“Esamadhe,” she muttered.

Jesse coughed, grinning, while Mark looked back and forth in confusion. “What?” he asked. “Esemadhe are those big sand lizard things from out in the desert, right? Not that I’ve ever seen one, but people seem to talk about them a lot. They seem badass, like sand dragons or something.” His face split into a grin. “Heck, she even breathes fire.”

Gusje sighed and walked away, leaving Mark looking confused.

“Not esemadhe,” Jesse said, still grinning. “Esama, like something tiny. Jyte made a pun.”

“So she’s ‘tiny dragon’ instead?” Mark laughed. “Holy shit, that’s perfect.”

“It really is,” Jesse agreed. “But it’s probably best if she never hears you say that.”

It was early in the morning when they assembled to go to Idhytse, not that it was possible to tell in the windowless confines of the gateway hall. Ajehet led his band of eight, accompanied by all of the non-Aesvain save for Tasja and Tesu. Even Jackie had joined them, her arm free from its sling thanks to the asolan’s restorative power. Their small party stood in front of the gateway as Arjun carefully slid the keystone back into place. He stepped back with a satisfied smile.

“All right,” he said, clapping his hands together. “We should be ready to head out.”

Jyte walked up to Mark and clasped his hand firmly, exchanging a nod. “I’d rather be coming with you,” he sighed.

“Listen, with the way things have been going we’re probably going to get eaten,” Mark sighed. “Jackie keeps predicting cannibals-” She punched him in the shoulder, and he broke off with a grin. “Anyway, I feel better knowing you’re going to be in charge of the keystone. It’s a long walk back to Sjan Saal.”

Jyte nodded, looking at the battered wristwatch Mark had given him. “I’m no scriptsmith, but I can manage this,” he said, smiling crookedly. “It’ll show one line with three circles as a signal to be ready, then two lines and two circles when it’s time. Leave the keystone in until it shows three lines and one circle in that order.”

“And don’t leave it in any longer than that,” Mark warned. “It’d be just like Vumo to check and see if we were stupid enough to leave the door unlocked. We’ll dial back in the window or not at all. I’ve set an alert, you’ll hear it beep shortly before it’s time.”

Jyte nodded and stepped back as the rest of them moved to stand in front of the gate. There was a low rumble as Arjun pressed the switch, and shortly afterward they were staring through the gateway into a high-ceilinged room sparsely lit by sunlight filtering through cracks in its masonry. Drifts of sand obscured the edges and corners of the room, dusting the floor and even spilling through the gate, although the ethereal barrier across the threshold prevented all but a few grains from crossing.

“Looks cheerful,” Mark noted, walking up to shift his angle. “No sign of activity, no footprints in the sand. I think we’re good to go.” He motioned the others forward before crossing the threshold, sweeping the room with his rifle as he advanced.

They lingered close to the gateway after crossing, sweeping flashlight beams and raised strings of qim over the dark areas of the room. It was a round dome with the gateway in the center, similar to its counterpart in Sjatel - only smaller, and without the prominent opening at the apex.

Jesse waved back through the gate, receiving a nod from Jyte before the connection disappeared. The gate flashed and rumbled, stirring the sand around it in fitful whorls before falling silent once more.

“Well, here we are,” Mark said. “Idhytse.”

Gusje walked around the room, feeling the cool, dry air on her skin. “Smells like home,” she said. “It seems like forever since I was last in the desert.”

“Well, you’ll have some time to enjoy it,” Jackie said. “It’ll be a bit before the chariot makes it out here, I remember it took us a while to cross that distance.” She shivered. “Damn, I don’t like being this isolated. You know I’ve got thoughts on Maja, but I sure miss having her to watch my back.”

“She’s here, after a fashion,” Arjun pointed out. “The draam je qaraivat are extensions of her power, after all.”

“Maybe not here,” Jesse muttered, drawing curious looks from the others.

Mark widened his eyes in alarm. “Dude, tell me the stones are up,” he said. “You were supposed to check before giving Jyte the all-clear!”

“No, they’re up,” Jesse said hastily. “This entire area is warded, but I don’t know that it was originally part of Maja’s region. I suspected when she said her vision wasn’t very clear here, but now I’m certain. The feeling is very different from the mountaintop.”

Jackie frowned. “There aren’t any active vinesavaim here anymore. Won’t that make the stones less effective?”

“They were effective enough in the deep desert,” Arjun said, walking over to squint at a nearby wall. “It’s surprising, actually. Based on what we know of the pre-collapse provinces, the warding stones near Ademen Tacen should have originally been under Eryha’s control. Even if the stones continue functioning after the death of their control system, I’m surprised that she wasn’t able to get around them more easily.”

“The situation with Eryha might be more complex than we thought,” Jesse said slowly, skin beaded with sweat even in the cool, dry air. “I’ve... been wondering lately if Maja’s story of that day in Sahao was the whole truth. I think she believes it is, but she’s got her limits. We’re beyond where even she can see, now. If we’re going to find out anything new, this is where we’ll find it.”