Darius nodded, agreeing with Anemos that Ruyo's support meant gaining an unlimited number of low-level mages. But he said, "I'm more concerned about the larger implications."

The wind-mage said, "I'm trying to look on the clearly positive side."

Ruyo set to work, granting power from scratch to two others who had no spells yet. But her new test subjects weren't able to advance beyond the first-level trick of moving water around. As she explained, "It seems like I can't dig the channel any farther."

Nusina said, "Maybe it's because you took a break between the two steps, for the first man. Try again later."

The process wore her out and she insisted on another rest. It was late afternoon. "How about that weaving class?"

Most of the others wandered off to talk about other things, creating a strange camp of Averell's nobility and tradesmen sitting on the grass with yesterday's messenger and the former (hopefully former) robbers. The new group had brought food and tents. The last cold winds of spring began to blow, but Anemos spent a few minutes carefully pacing the campsite and the air stilled, warm again. Ruyo contributed a few chunks of wood for a fire, and settled down near her doorstep to speak with the weaver.

The weaver, a darkly-tanned man in a finely tailored robe, had brought a small loom to play with. He showed Ruyo how to raise and lower the threads and pass a needle back and forth through them. It was pleasant to feel the clack of the wood and hum of the strings. Nusina muttered that she vaguely recalled a better way to do it, something about cards and flying, and then slipped away to join the others' conversation. Ruyo was pleased she didn't feel obligated to hang around.

The weaver looked at Ruyo's repetitive work on the first few rows of a simple scarf, and said, "That's nearly right. Now does that help you with your magic crafting?"

Ruyo let go of the loom, flexed her hands, and pushed herself to make a square of beige cloth. The material rippled into existence like a cloud becoming solid. "How is this?"

"That's... not as good as your manual work. See how I can push it apart so easily in the middle?"

Ruyo groaned. "Still?"

"Look at how the loom-made threads pass back and forth. And then at your sample, which is more of a tangle."

Ruyo practiced, trying again with the loom and then, much less successfully, by magic. Her created cloth was good only for patch-work or for the flimsy tents she had her guards using. And the quality of those was motivating them to build a hut. "Why can't I get this right?" she said. "Is it just that I'm magically tired?"

"It could be. I'm no mage, at least until this trip. Tell me, why are you doing all this? Is it that you want to be rich and famous, or to have people fall at your feet and praise you?"

"I agree with Nusina: there's a lot of lost magic and even machinery that we could recreate to improve the world."

The weaver sat up straighter. He appraised not her, but the uneven, sloppy weave she had made. "You had a life before all this, didn't you? I hear a Starshore accent."

"I was a trader until a few weeks ago. My horse ran off and my cart's stashed downhill. Now... This is what I do now."

"And you expect to master a whole set of new skills at once? And develop unheard-of powers along with becoming an ordinary wizard, and having important people come to you for help? Tell me, are you enjoying all this?"

Ruyo blinked. She'd been getting annoyed at the personal questions, but the last one confused her. "I suppose. I want to see what's over the next hill! And what I can learn to do. But there are a lot of things I have to master in a hurry, before someone finds a way to kill me out of greed or fear. For that I have to be useful and needed and to find some way to stab my enemies with icy needles or something, even though I don't want to stab anyone!"

He held out one hand. "Ssh. Why don't you try the loom some more?"

She blushed; she'd gotten loud. She returned to the weaving. It was calming, repetitive work. Ruyo practiced in silence.

The weaver said, "Do the worshipers not matter to you?"

"Of course they do. I want to do right by them, give them something worth praising me for. But I can't choose how this magic works. I have to play at being a god, or it goes to waste."

"Are you alone in this world?"

Her eyes narrowed. "I have defenses in place."

He laughed. "I'm sure. But as a trader who's suddenly stopped traveling, are you now a hermit?"

"I have friends. Contacts in half a dozen towns. My parents are off in Starshore and I haven't gotten to tell them yet what's happened."

"Well, I see a lot of people wanting to do business with you in one way or another, including us. Have you had a non-mercantile interaction with another human being lately?"

Ruyo paused in her weaving. "What are you talking about? I have Nusina. And people trying to kill me. And trying to help the Vissio family out to get their support. And putting on a magic show, even."

"Yes, we were all told about that. Sounded profitable."

She smacked her forehead. Coins, praise, shrines, new powers. That'd been her life lately, to the exclusion of all else. She'd even been planning to talk these people into being her entourage for a trip to Brotherhood, to convince those guys to back off. "I didn't even get to keep the money from that performance. It got swiped."

Someone knocked on the outside door. It was that messenger, saying, "May I come in?"

"Yes."

He entered, saying, "I had a thought. Can you make paper?"

Ruyo rummaged through a stock of sample goods and tossed him a blank scroll. "I've tried, but the result is near-worthless. It's flimsy stuff that falls apart if it gets torn or wet at all."

"Really? I'd like to buy a couple of these. Ah... for a personal project."

"Yes, sure. Keep that one and I'll make more later."

When he was gone, Ruyo sighed. "Another few coppers, another bit of goodwill."

The weaver said, "He's a younger son of a salt-trading family. Here for some advantage, I assume."

"Not for magic. He seems too devoted to the Church to ask. I see most of this group isn't averse."

"Yes, that's..." He looked aside. "They're going to pressure you to join the Church more formally."

"Is that what you've been getting at? A sales pitch for them?"

"No, miss. Do what you like with them, in terms of alliances and payments. I just think you'd benefit from a private talk with an actual priest, one who isn't out to get anything from you. That's maybe the one person in Averell not looking to profit."

"There's nothing wrong with --"

He waved her off. "In its time and place, no. But right now you've been boxed into a situation where you can't stop buying and selling and scheming. A break from that might do you good."

Ruyo looked at her unblemished hands, thinking of all the work that needed doing. Spells to develop, powers to grant, goods to create and sell. "If I can get a few days without urgent training or danger."

Her teacher stood, stretched, and pushed the loom away from Ruyo. "Rest until dinner, then. I'll tell the others you're busy practicing and meditating."

"Thank you."

Alone again, she lay back on her bed of crude magic-made parts and let her mind wander. It'd been on a pretty tight leash lately.