Torit sensed, rather than heard, the two approaching horses, and was able to open the gates through the open window to his office. Magic, as always, was much more convenient than doing things bodily. Although it took some effort, he slammed them shut just after the two passed, then barred the gates as well. Given their rush, he assumed it might be necessary.

There was just enough room inside the compound walls for the two of them to slow their horses without crashing into anything. After a long moment in which nothing bad seemed to happen, they dismounted and led their horses back to the stable. After collecting the papers on his desk, Torit joined them there.

Wilke, for some reason, looked pleased. Marin didn’t, but whatever was bothering her, it didn’t seem quite so serious. So Torit just waited for them to finish stabling the horses, pleased that they (unlike many visitors) seemed willing to care for the horses themselves.

Finally, though, Marin turned and nodded to him. “We were attacked on the road.”

“I gathered.” Torit raised his eyebrows, keeping a calm expression on his face. He wasn’t sure why, but the expression seemed to entertain people. Marin smothered a grin, although it died a moment later.

“They’re probably dead. Wilke said--”

“Dark turquoise accents on cobalt blue,” Wilke was still trying to hang a saddle on the wall, and not quite getting it to hook properly. “The servants were wearing cobalt blue with dark turquoise accents.”

“Those are Egrethore’s colors,” confirmed Torit. Without mentioning it, he nudged the saddle so that it would hang properly.

“The clothes were also red with the blood of one Melthius Cantar,” Wilke said, his voice finally losing the last bit of cheerful lilt it had held, as he racked the rest of his riding gear. “I could only see snatches of the place through the divination, but Melth was almost certainly killed and quite possibly worse. His blood was all over the place in a large mansion north-northeast of the spot where they were attacked, a long building with a turret on the front of it.”

“Almost certainly the main house.” Torit furrowed his brow. “It’s clear, then. What do you plan to do now?”

Wilke brushed dust off of his vest as he stepped out, then turned his attention to Marin. “I think you ought to go back and report. Actually taking action against the nobles here would require a much larger group.”

“You were the one who cast the divination,” countered Marin. “It’s your report to make.”

“I… yes.” Wilke sighed, then after a moment, gestured towards the way station’s main building. “If you don’t mind, I want to sit down on something that isn’t constantly bucking up into my underside.”

Marin made no comment, and let Torit lead the way into his own office, where the two took seats on the padded bench closest to the window. Marin, though, closed the window, and with a quick seal, warded it against magical intrusion.

“You’re right,” said Wilke after a moment. “I ought to be there. But I think I should stay here in case someone attacks. I will write out the report, and you should take it back.”

“You don’t think I can defend the compound?” Marin stiffened a bit, looking a bit more poised than she normally preferred. “I am a competent magician in all the seven lower elements, Wilke. More than competent.”

“I am a combat specialist, dear Marin. I don’t…” he sighed,very quickly accepting that this was not an argument he would win. “Torit, what do you think.”

“I think you’re both mad if you think the three of us can defeat a nobleman’s army,” admitted Torit. “If they’ve twice attacked members of the Order, the idea that they might launch a full-scale attack is hardly laughable. I suspect sealing the compound and fleeing, would be the best choice.”

“Hum.” Wilke considered that, glancing from Marin, who looked like her pride was bruised further, back to Torit. “That gives them a chance to trap the place, though.”

“You are the combat expert. But I warn you, the Egrethore group is known for having surprising quantities of enchanted items, perhaps enough to fully arm their many hundreds of guards. It’s unclear how or where they come from, but they consistently sell more than they were known to have in stock, and I would assume that’s after they keep some for themselves.” Torit sniffed. “Compared to that, a couple mages taking the time to barricade a mud-brick waystation? I’d hardly call our odds even.”

Marin closed her eyes, and Torit could sense an odd tingle underfoot, he presumed from her examining the foundation of the building. Earth magic was hardly his forte, but he knew from the maintenance the place required, if nothing else, that it wasn’t a particularly secure place.

Wilke also caught the look on her face, and waited for her to finish probing. He raised his eyes when she seemed to return to herself. “How is it?”

“If they only had armsmen and crossbowmen, I am sure we could hold out. But with the money they have, it wouldn’t be hard to siege the place. I could tap the Vein, but doing so without the consent of the Order…” she paused and looked at Torit, thought for half a moment, and concluded, “...is forbidden.”

Torit kept his face impassive. Most humans couldn’t read a halfbreed’s facial expressions anyway, but he still prided himself on his ability to give nothing away. Nevertheless, he suspected that Marin was canny enough to read the ensuing silence.

“Then we go.” Wilke sighed and stood up. “Marin, do whatever you can to seal the place. Torit… you might as well gather up records and reports, and whatever else you must do. When you’re ready to go, don’t wait for us.”

Torit, his guts tight, stood up, mentally sorting through the things he should and shouldn’t leave behind, and magically ordering many of those into place at the same time.

“I will keep an eye out, for now. Marin, let me know when you’re ready.” Wilke, seeming a bit distant, walked out of the office. Torit heard the front door open, then close.

Marin’s eyes were blank, her concentration elsewhere.

Torit, watching the papers swirl on his desk, thought that this was the worst thing that could possibly have happened. He couldn’t quite stop thinking of Nina and the empty spot she’d left behind. The thought that he would leave this place behind, or worse, that it would be destroyed… the thought seemed like the end of an era.

That thought struck him harder than he expected it to. He spent a long moment trying to recall, then said under his breath, “Fifteen years.”

“Sorry?” Marin’s eyes turned to him.

“Ah… nothing. Only, it’s been fifteen years since I first came here.” Torit shuffled the papers efficiently into a stack, rolled them up, and packed them in a bag he had kept under the desk. “Only an assistant then. Funny how it doesn’t seem that long, anymore.”

“Time always seems longer when you’re young.” Marin closed her eyes, struggling with something he could not see. “I suppose it’s because everything is new. Eventually, it settles into patterns.”

“Perhaps.” Torit moved through the door from his office into his adjourning quarters, opening the bag so that his personal effects could deposit themselves, one by one, into it. It wasn’t a large list, and he regretted that he had nothing among his possessions to celebrate Nina’s life. “Still, when it’s time to pick up and go, there’s not much to carry away, is there?”

“No.”

“And less when life is over.” Torit strapped the bag diagonally across his torso and stepped back into the office. “Alright, I’ll go on ahead then. How long do you think--?”

“Hours, I hope. There is a lot I can do to protect the place. As Wilke said, the main concern is them laying a trap for us here. If you can get reinforcements before then, all the better.”

“Hm.” Torit bobbed his head. “Good luck, lady Marin.” He started to close the door after himself, then thought better of it. If she needed to rush out, it would only get in the way.

He didn’t bother saying goodbye to Wilke, instead opening up the transit room and plunging into the Vein with hardly a second thought.

The cold stars of the Astral Plane above him were no comfort. The Vein around him, in contrast, was welcoming, as it always seemed to be. All parts of the Order’s transit network, and presumably all of the planet’s Veins, pulsed with life and magic. For those who traveled it more than once or twice, it was a very comforting feeling.

A rail stretched on before him, suspended in the vein. Although large Veins like this one rarely branched off, making it hard to get lost, the presence of the rail leading him back to the Temple was a welcome and familiar feeling. Getting lost in a hallway lined with sharp, jagged spatial tears sounded like an absolute terror.

Torit pulled himself quickly along the rail. Something nagged at him, and he kept his mind alert, but he wasn’t sure what or where the problem was. Finally, though, he saw something: a small creature peeking out a crevice, watching him. Probably human, it disturbed him mostly because he could neither see nor sense anything but a pair of eyes and half a forehead.

Is that... dead? Torit didn’t even consider getting closer. Let alone the idea it might be an enemy lying in wait, Torit had been warned repeatedly against getting too close to the walls. Apparently the wardspace within the Vein deteriorated as you got close to the walls, and people could easily get stuck, trapped there until… well, he assumed there was some way to remove people who were stuck, but time also passed faster in the Vein, and the thought of being trapped for what felt like eternity was most unpleasant.

Instead, Torit hurried on, spending more energy than he’d planned to on passing the creature by at speed. And, to his own surprise and chagrin, something magical snapped as he passed, barely missing hitting him. Torit, not daring to pick a fight with what might be a native creature to this place--or worse, a specialist--poured even more energy into his flight, trusting the rail to take him home.

When he slammed headfirst into the white column that was the exit, and popped out into the Order’s terminal complex, he found himself very nearly crashing into the ceiling, and dropped, stunned, to the floor. Bruised and ashamed, he picked himself up slowly, then looked around.

The Order’s orderly stood in the center of the complex, looking (of course) right at him. Torit didn’t recognize her, but he had not used the network in at least a year and probably three. So he brushed himself off and collected his things, then strode up to her and calmly began to speak.

“I am afraid I’ll need to speak to the supervisor, my dear lady. It seems the trouble in Nase has exceeded our expectations.”

“Of course, sir. You are?” The orderly placed a hand on the pedestal, splitting her concentration between him and some spell.

“Torit M’eldric, senior field officer for the Nase outpost.”

“Step onto the mover, please.” The orderly gestured to the lift circle in the center, concentrating fully on the spell laid into the pedestal. Torit hesitated, but followed the instruction. He disliked the mover; it operated much like the transit network, but performed independent of his will, simply spitting him out on another circle elsewhere in the Temple.

So he trusted her, and stepped on the circle, emerging a moment later in a stone hallway. A set of north-facing quartz windows lined the right side of the hall, looking out over the city. A casual glance told him he was far higher up in the Temple than he expected to be; perhaps fifty stories?

He paced down the hall, not quite sure where he was going, but a door opened quickly enough, and a secretary shuffled out. The secretary seemed to recognize Torit with a glance, and held out his hand in greeting. “Ah… You are Torit, the Nase field officer. This way, please.”

Torit allowed himself to be steered into the waiting room, and then the office, without bothering to glance at the name plates. He regretted it, though, as soon as he recognized the woman.

“Master Marion…” Torit dropped to one knee, not entirely sure how to address the head of the Order.

Marion gestured impatiently, and a slight pulse of magic conveyed a sense of now is not a time for formalities. Torit marvelled a moment; he was well aware of the many magic disciplines, but he had expected mind magic to be more… disconcerting, offensive. He shook it off quickly, though, and drew himself up to address her.

“I am sure you know, investigators Wilke and Marin came to my office to investigate the disappearance and probable murder of investigators Melth and Nina. Although they will return soon to give a full report, I am here to tell you that during their investigations they were also attacked, and according to master Wilke, they believe they can finger Lord Egrethore and his household as the perpetrators. He also believes that the two missing investigators are almost certainly dead.”

Marion, sitting behind a tall desk that seemed a strange blend of hardwood, crystal, and metal, didn’t seem to stiffen or appear upset by the news. Torit wondered if he was still bad at detecting these things in humans, or if she was very good at concealing her thoughts.

“With two assaults on members of the Order, I worried that we would not be safe in the Nase outpost building. Masters Wilke and Marin agreed, and sent me on ahead so that they could fortify the place.” Torit straightened slightly, letting a period of silence indicate that he was done.

“That’s not all you have to report.” Master Marion’s eyes never seemed to leave Torit’s face; it had not been a bother earlier, but the longer they rested there, the more uncomfortable he found it.

“Ah… there was also an anomaly in the transit network. I cannot be certain, but I, ah… something attacked me. It might have been a person, or… a creature I do not know. It seemed hidden in the edge of the Vein, and it… terrified me.”

“I can only imagine.” Marion paused only a moment, but her voice was a shade softer. “When we are at our most isolated, every threat feels like the greatest we have ever seen.” She cleared her throat. “Torit M’eldric. You have served well, and if you choose not to return to Seyona, we will find another position for you. However, the situation in Nase requires our immediate attention, and so we will be sending people there immediately, in part to investigate the Lord Egrethore, and in part to pressure the Lord of Seyona, to make sure he does not interfere with our actions.”

Torit bowed slightly. “If my knowledge may be of any use…”

“We would prefer your help.” She smiled, but only for a moment. “However I am sure you understand, your safety can no longer be guaranteed.”

“Yes… I am aware.” Torit didn’t rise from the bow, taking the moment to try to put his thoughts in order. “Ninama… did not deserve to be killed.” He straightened. “Whoever the perpetrator is, whether Lord Egrethore or another, they are a villain, and I would be glad to help.”

Marion rose from behind her desk. “We will be putting together a group this very evening. Do not attempt to travel back through the Vein. A specialist will look into it prior to the group’s departure. If you need to leave any belongings here, a room will be provided.” She paused. “If Wilke and Marin attempt to pass through… we can hope that they will be safe. If not, the Lord of Seyona will have to answer for anyone who dares tamper with the safety of the network.”

Torit bowed again, and sensing that the Master was finished, backed out of the room.