“You’ve helped us more than you’ll ever know, Champion,” Clyde said, his face ten years younger than it had been earlier in the day. The man was narrowly built but with signs that he had been portly once upon a time, he had big brown eyes and his hair was a brown bleached by the sun; his shoulders had been heavy and his eyes filled with fear, but now that had been cast away. Clyde smiled, an expression I hadn’t seen much through our travels.

My stomach churned, lips pressed together in an attempt to keep them from settling into a frown. It was just after noon and cloud cover meant the sun didn’t bear down on us as harshly; we were surrounded by tall trees that were rich with life, which meant the sounds of nature intermingled with those of the people settled within its embrace.

A nice day that I felt disconnected from.

The conversation with Quinn, even after having dwelt on it while we’d made our way back, still felt like a blur. The impression she’d left behind was her saying that a single leaf could be forgotten against the care of the greater tree.

But in this case that leaf was a hundred people who’d faced adversity on their journey here.

“Don’t thank me yet,” I said. “Things still aren’t decided. I’ve asked that High Chief Ran be spoken to, but there’s politics that needs to be worked through.”

“But for a time we don’t have to worry about being chased,” said Clyde, “and we owe that all to you.” The man bowed. “Thank you, Champion.”

I felt arguing the point, but he was happy and that mattered. I smiled and gave him a nod, even as the very action seemed like a lie.

Tents had been built but people needed to go out hunting and others to look for any fruits or berries that could be used to supplement our foodstuffs; and thanks to Luther, we had stopped near one of the many streams that fed into Lake Gris and that meant a place for freshwater and fish. There was a lot of work that needed to be done and Clyde went off to lead his people.

“You don’t seem happy with your accomplishment,” said Surya, his wings even tucked making it seem like he was taller than me.

We’d been travelling with these people for over a week, but our group was separate from theirs. It wasn’t something we intentionally did, but we mostly kept to ourselves and the greater group kept their distance. The same was true now, we were settled under a tree at the edges of the network of tents.

“It doesn’t feel like enough,” I said. “Or…it doesn’t feel final. I lied some to Quinn to make this happen and even then, it felt like the resolution might have unforeseen circumstances.”

“Such is the way,” said Matthaeus. “The great lie we tell others is that those at the top hold all the power, but that is not so. There is a delicate balance that must be struck, allies that need to be secured less you find your power stripped from you.”

Excuses, I thought and stopped, because that would be ignoring a reality I had seen first-hand.

“What was your lie?” Surya asked.

“That I had Matthaeus’ ear,” I said, “and that you’d be less likely to work with them if they didn’t make this happen. Then I mentioned Corneleus being our hostage, and how we’ll use him to keep from being attacked. All things that aren’t in my power to give or uphold.”

“You do have Marcus’ ear,” said Ji-ho, “that wasn’t a lie. And we do have Corneleus.” Matthaeus frowned, his eyes growing gloomy. Ji-ho shrugged. “We have him, he might as well be used for the benefit of others. If you have a blocked nose, you might as well use the boon to clean your shitter.”

“That’s an image I didn’t need in my head,” I muttered under my breath as Luther shuddered, his expression twisting. Ji-ho gave us a bright grin, revelling in the minor act of chaos.

“I’d thought he’d be freed the moment we reached Susserton,” Matthaeus said, cutting through the moment of levity. “That’s what I told him. If we keep him any longer, I would be breaking my word.”

I sighed and let myself sit with too much energy, trusting that my armour would absorb the worst of the impact. My eyes went across the campsite, where children were at play and parents were sitting in the shade watching them. The feeling that when I looked away these people might be forgotten sat heavily in my stomach, and against my mind were the harsh chains of responsibility.

During my stay in Malnor castle I’d convinced myself that I didn’t have any power and thus couldn’t be expected to bear any responsibility. But things were different now. There were people who needed help and I could use my role here as leverage to aid them.

Whether I wanted to admit it or not, I had soft power, and with that came responsibility.

“There’s still a lot of work to do before I feel like I’ve done enough,” I said. “Fighting against some guy riding a giant boar was cool, terrifying and it meant these people weren’t captured, but I don’t think it’s the help they really need. They’re about to be caught up in a lot of shit, from the people of Althor who might want to get them back by any means necessary, or the tug of war between High Chief Ran and the Chieftains of Susserton; and that’s not even all of it.”

In cities back home, there were areas that were squatter camps and even with RDP housing being a thing, they continued to grow — people without homes regularly found a plot of land and started to build little shacks until a community formed. They were better than nothing but they weren’t the best places to live — no access to toilets or water, electricity had to be stolen from robots and streetlights or bought from neighbouring homes, and with how close they were to each other, fires were more of a danger than usual.

Squatting was illegal and the government didn’t like it, but the ruling party got their votes from the poor and disenfranchised, which meant they had to look like they were taking care of their people. Most of the time the squatters were left where they settled until a better location could be found and homes would be built for them; but other times the corporate interests of the government would show, people would squat on land owned by some company though it wasn’t being used and police would be called to root them out.

These people were squatters, but the parallels were muddied by the unique laws, norms and history of the Commonality. I couldn’t predict with certainty what was going to happen, but I could use the little I had to guess at what might happen.

Uncle Sipho had been irate through most of the holidays three years ago, because a large tract of empty land at the back of his house had started to become a squatter camp. He’d called these places unsightly — which sucked, but I’d had the same thought while seeing on the news — and he’d been worried about the crime that would rise from there.

The same might be true here. There were other villages around this area and they would treat these people with apprehension and suspicion. Rivalries would form because there was only so much land and there would now be new competition.

A lot of room for things to go wrong.

Which meant there was still a lot of work to be done.

“Can we ransom Corneleus?” I asked, reaching for anything that might make this feel like a resolution. “Use that to buy peace between Althor and Susserton? You’d still be freeing him if things work out right?”

“True peace between Althor and Susserton would be impossible,” said Matthaeus. “They have shown where their allegiances lie and it will force Althor to be wary of them. However, there might be a way for you to get these people as your own.” I frowned and Matthaeus nodded as if he’d expected it. “Though it’s not something you will like.”

“What is it?” I asked, already bracing myself for something shitty.

“The life of a noble, especially one of Corneleus’ esteem, is worth a thousand commoner lives,” said Matthaeus, and even expecting some real shit I still bristled. I was happy to see that I wasn’t the only one who was aghast, Hatim’s eyes were hard and his expression curled in anger.

Luther, a commoner, didn’t look like he was phased one bit by the statement. He was a member of the party just as I was — he had seniority for that matter — but most of the time he didn’t talk unless directly spoken to. I remembered him being outspoken when he’d been drunk on the elixir, and I knew he’d internalised that he was of less worth than the nobles that ruled over him — even if he could hate some of them.

Ji-ho was unsurprised — this wasn’t news for her and it was undeserving of even a flicker of emotion. It made me interested in her past because she was the member of the party I knew the least. Hatim had been said to be reserved, but I knew that he’d lived on an island before coming to the Commonality, he and his brother had been thieves and he the muscle, and he’d taken a trip through the Blighted Lands; Ji-ho, on the other hand, my knowledge of her started and ended on her being a warrior healer who had some ties to the nobility.

Maybe you’re scared of her because there’s some part of Ji-ho that’s like Jaslynn, I thought jokingly, but I stopped, using the ring to lengthen time so I could interrogate if the little glimmer was true. It didn’t feel like it was, but if I’d learnt anything about myself since getting here was that I was very good at lying to myself.

In Surya there was a sad acceptance, with his head hung low in what might have been guilt. I knew more about him than I did Ji-ho, but there were still a lot of mysteries surrounding the Falconer.

And wouldn’t you like to learn them?

Be gone, thirst, I thought, closing my eyes and mentally clearing myself of the direction of thought. Surya was in his mid, going to late twenties, he’d had way more life experience than I did, things between us wouldn’t work; and I didn’t want them to be awkward again after the comment I’d made.

“That’s really fucked up,” I said eventually.

“But it is the way,” said Matthaeus.

It sucked that I had enough wherewithal that I could see it. These people ‘belonged’ to Lord Bowers who didn’t have enough standing. If he helped secure the freedom of someone with direct ties to the Mandaron line then he would be honoured. He might even get one of his sons or daughters married to Corneleus’ family which would grow the status of his line.

And there was also the bigger consideration that it would be the way, as Matthaeus said. These people had escaped and in doing so they were a beacon of hope to anyone else that they could do the same, that if they were dissatisfied, they could run off to new lands where they might be welcomed. If they were bought, though, then it was another transaction in keeping with the status quo.

Doing one thing would help these people specifically, I thought, but the other would be the kernel that grows into something much bigger.

I’d been thinking about the ways to break through all the internalised nonsense Luther still held on to, but there were more people out there that I wouldn’t be able to devote the same sort of attention to. So stories like the one of this group would matter.

I just had to work against the best interest and accept the possibility that people might be sent after them again.

A sigh left me. “I think I need some air,” I said, the fatigue no doubt audible in my voice. It felt like I was on a roller-coaster that was slowly going up. I knew that the drop was close but I couldn’t tell by how much, one thing was a certainty, that it would hit me very hard.

It’s just about time for another slump, isn’t it? I thought with some resignation.

“Will you be needing company?” Surya asked.

I shook my head. “Just me and Rollo,” I said, not feeling like being around any people right now. “It’s been a while since it’s been just us two.”

Rollo had already walked most of the day, but he didn’t complain as we set off with no destination in mind.

***

Things weren’t resolved and it felt like my mind could do nothing but fixate. People around me enjoyed themselves as if they had no idea of the coming darkness, while my mind chose to dwell on the bleak possibilities that could unfold. There were three villages neighbouring our settlement, not very large but doing okay with themselves; they traded between each other, but since our group had no money, we weren’t a part of that network because we had nothing to give.

“If we could start building, then things would be easier,” I said to Matthaeus, and it wasn’t the first time in the past week. Our supplies of vegetables were running out and even hunting was precarious.

“That would be a bad idea,” he returned. “There are small chiefs in this place, akin to our barons. This land, even unused, belongs to them and if you started to build without their permission it would make any relationships harder.”

“That’s part of the problem,” I muttered, laden by a weight that pressed on my shoulders, hooks dug in to make my body feel like I’d just come from a fight. It felt like there was only so much energy that I could tap into, and even talking to Matthaeus was draining my meagre reserves.

“Is it not so in your own world?” he asked.

“That’s complicated.”

“There seems to be a great deal in your world that is complicated,” he said. I looked up, trying to read his expression. My brain couldn’t muster up the energy to try and decipher it, so I was left with nothing but my gut to go on and that told me that the words had been sarcastic.

A part of me felt like going off at him — he was a part of the problem and he’d chosen to check out instead of doing something about it, even now his greatest concern was his family and no one else. But in doing that, I felt my thoughts turn on me, fixating on my own complicity.

Rationally, I knew that my options had been limited, but my emotions didn’t care about such nuance.

“How can this work?” I asked.

“Patience,” he said.

“I’m really not in a waiting mood,” I muttered and let out a breath. “It feels like all I’m doing right now is waiting for something bad to happen.”

Matthaeus gave me a tap on the shoulder, squeezing it almost to the point it felt uncomfortable. “You feel it is your duty that these people are safe,” he said and I shrugged. It should have been pretty evident at this point that that was the truth. “I think you should take solace in getting them to this point. They’re whole and happy. Look and you should be able to see it.”

I could see it, but I couldn’t feel it.

Matthaeus sighed and nodded. “You did not like your life in the castle,” he began. “No doubt you were planning your escape since you first arrived in our world. Am I wrong?”

I shrugged. “It was aimless at first, but I was doing a lot of things,” I told him. “I knew my place in things from the beginning and I wanted to make it harder to be shit on. I wanted to befriend Odysseus and it worked. Maybe a bit too well, because I grew to actually like parts of him.”

Matthaeus’ eyes shone with light that he kept from piercing the rest of his expression. “The process must have involved a lot of patience on your part,” he said. “Waiting for the perfect opportunity until everything came together?”

“It wasn’t as elegant as you’re thinking,” I muttered, the words matching a fitful feeling in my gut – a general irritation pointed at everything. “Mostly I was making shit up as I went along. Doing stuff. Training, reading, picking up bits of knowledge that might be useful for a greater goal.”

“Okay,” he said. “Then do the same thing here. What do you want?”

“I want these people to have a home. I don’t want there to be a threat of attack looming in the distance, and I want it so things aren’t tenuous,” I told him and saying it, I could feel that it was bigger than anything I could accomplish.

“There already exists options to make one of those things a reality,” he said.

“It’s not that simple,” I said, a little frustrated. It felt like a lot of people just didn’t get what was going through my mind, and maybe I wasn’t doing a good job explaining myself.

“Nothing is simple, Champion, that is the harshness of the paths the Fates set before us,” he said. Matthaeus looked away, a frown touching his face. “For a long time I was unhappy in my home, but I believed that I could not leave for duty’s sake. Things got worse until I could no longer bear it, and I had to make the hardest decision of my life, which meant abandoning all that I knew — family and friends alike.”

“But you made new friends,” I said.

He smiled, but it wasn’t entirely happy. “New companions though I made, I still mourn those I lost,” Matthaeus said. “I am happier now than I was, but…it was not and it is not simple. The path that I have for my family is not a simple one. No doubt they will hate me, but I believe that it is good for them. Sometimes…a solution, even when it is one we do not like in its entirety, is better than none at all.”

“Except that’s not it,” I said. “Ideas matter and right now the idea of people being able to leave a place they don’t like to settle elsewhere is important. If we give them Corneleus for these people, then we’ll be treating them as property, which is part of the greater problem.”

“But they will know Champion Jordan stands with them,” he said, “is that not an idea that will rise above the rest?”

“It still doesn’t feel right,” I said.

“Perfection is the enemy of good,” he said. “The words of Champion Zeus. He was a wise man.”

I snorted bitterly, kicking a mound of earth at my feet. “That’s just a thing people say, guy,” I muttered. “I know he’s your ancestor, but he’s basically been cribbing the quotes of greater people on our earth.” I stopped and sighed, rubbing my brow. It felt like I was being unreasonable and with how dull everything felt, I was in a dark mood. “Sorry. Just…I usually don’t talk to people when I’m feeling like this. I’m just…not good. Ignore me until it passes.”

Matthaeus nodded and gave me another clap on the shoulder. “I will leave you to your own company, then,” he said.

He must have passed the message on to the others because they didn’t try to start a conversation, which I appreciated even if it left things a little awkward. Matthaeus, Hatim or Surya told us stories of their past adventures when we gathered around the fire every night, which sometimes made me feel happy and other times reminded me of similar events back home — ceremonies that would go into the early hours of the morning, communal gatherings filled with song and celebration.

Home. A simpler life.

And you’re thinking about staying here, I thought heavily. Make a difference.

I reached for the feeling after fighting Leonidas. It hadn’t been the fight itself that had left me feeling high, but the idea that I’d helped people. For a moment I had accomplished far more in my life than I’d ever thought I’d be able to.

Now that responsibility was crushing, or at least, the feeling of being stuck was crushing. I wanted to move, to be doing stuff and the only thing I could do was something I didn’t like on a visceral level.

It was a relief almost three weeks after our first meeting, when I finally got a message from Quinn. My mood didn’t lift as I expected it would, but the idea that I wouldn’t have to wait left me a little lighter.

“Another meeting at the Town of the Weeping Wench,” I said, rushing to the others.

“Will Rowan attend?” Luther asked. “Do you think he would be willing to meet me? To meet two Champions in my lifetime…” Luther could only shake his head, his eyes mystified.

“I hope so,” I said. “Or maybe she’ll take us to him? She was able to disappear after we met, who knows what magic she knows.”

“Which is its own sort of danger,” said Matthaeus. “I know you expect much from this meeting, Khaya, but remember to be cautious.”

“I think she and I believe the same things, morally,” I said. “I don’t think we should be worried. Things went well the first time.”

Ji-ho shook her head. “You’ve been different ever since you met her,” she said. “I worry about your mood when this meeting has run its course.”

“That doesn’t have anything to do with them,” I said, feeling a little heavier at the reminder. “That’s me stuff. Things that are wonky with my head. I know you guys are worried about security, so I’ll let you get on that, but this is what Matthaeus, Luther and I wanted. A chance to meet Rowan. The conclusion’s already foregone.”

“He’s right,” said Hatim, arms crossed and his expression a little worried. “We might have to be closer now to the Town of the Weeping Wench. If Rowan’s going to be there, security might be higher.”

“If the mage cannot fight his own battles,” said Matthaeus. “In times of old the mages were warriors.”

They continued to speak, but I wasn’t paying much attention, already imagining what it would be to meet Rowan. He would have been in this world much longer than me, but he was from Earth. More than anyone he knew the struggles that came with being on another world, and he’d made it to the ripe old age of eighty or something.

Two days before we had to meet and they felt like they moved at a crawl, and some part of me worried that something might come up that would postpone things; but as slow as they felt, the days passed and Matthaeus and I rode to the Town of the Weeping Wench and found a table at inn at the centre of town.

Quinn materialised seemingly from nowhere. I had been keeping track of the crowd and how they moved, my sense focused on the exits and the people coming in, and I didn’t feel her, only saw as she stood from within a crowded booth near the back.

“Whatever she’s doing doesn’t affect my spatial sense,” I whispered to Matthaeus. “Hopefully this time around Luther can keep track of her.”

“Hopefully,” he said, watching as the woman neared, a bounce in her step. She reached our table and took a seat in one of the chairs, a smile playing across her face.

“Champion Khaya and Prince Matthaeus,” she said. “I’m glad we could meet again. I’ve been so excited to come back here.”

“It’s dangerous coming back to the same place,” said Matthaeus. “People who know of my hammer’s connection to me might be here. If we’re to meet a third time I would advise another venue.”

Quinn shrugged. “That’s not anything to worry about,” she said, waving it off. “We keep a very good watch over this place. If there’s anyone here who might be a spy or a mercenary, I’ll know. Which is why I know the location of that motley crew of yours and have people ready to intercept if they try something.”

“That feels a fuck of a lot like a threat,” I said. “Please say that it isn’t, because I’ve been looking forward to this and that’d be a shitty way to start things off.”

“You will have to forgive the Champion,” Matthaeus quickly said. “He has been in quite a mood as of late.”

Right, I thought. You don’t want to mess this up.

I tried to calm myself down and it didn’t take. A part of me didn’t care as much about hiding my irritation of my general surroundings, even though I knew I’d regret it when I was past my slump.

A part of it is your temper, I thought. Remember going off on Odysseus?

“It’s quite alright,” said Quinn. “I’ve been around rougher people before.” She settled back. “I’ll begin with your people, Champion. You wanted them to have land.” My heart started to beat faster, anticipation wriggling in my stomach. I waited on bated breath for her to say it was impossible. “I talked to Ran and he said it was workable, though with conditions.”

“What are the conditions?”

“Three favours which would be asked of you at a future date,” she said. “It might be something so simple as visiting a town and talking to its chief, standing at his side at a key moment, or a task that he bids you to accomplish.”

“What if he asks me to do something I don’t wanna do?” I asked. “Can I say no?”

“That might make things complicated, Champion,” she said. “At the end of the day, the one thing we truly have is our word, and if you promise him three favours and refuse…well…” Quinn shrugged.

“We also have our honour,” Matthaeus said. “A favour cannot be asked of a person that would have them do something dishonourable. I think that is what the Champion seeks to know, will you and your High Chief ever put him in that position.”

“Yeah,” I said, a part of me a little frustrated, “that.”

I knew she’d understood what I’d meant, but she was trying to get one over me like she had before, presenting me with limited information so that I agreed to what she wanted.

“Nothing can compel any man to commit dishonour unto themselves,” said Quinn. “It’s one of the tenants that means our society functions, and I would never compel you to do such a thing — nor would Ran.”

“Yeah, right,” I muttered under my breath. “So what does this mean? If I agree?”

“Ran asks for three favours and in exchange a tract of land will be gifted to you to do with as you please,” she said. “It’s taxes yours to collect. The deal is a good one for a mere three favours—”

“The chains that will tie you down to Susserton are their own price,” Matthaeus cut in. “If this place is yours, you will be linked to its politics in a way you cannot escape. The problems of Susserton will be your own. It is a gift and a burden both.”

“But that’s good, isn’t it, Champion?” Quinn said before I could get a moment to think. “It means you can look out for these people you’re attached to. For whose hands do you trust more than your own? I know for a certainty that we are barbarians compared to where you come from.”

She’s right, a part of me thought. So much of this place is fucked up. If you have a place of your own then you can make the rules. You could even make it a haven if you want. A place people can run to.

“Will Susserton protect us?” I asked. “If people from Althor try to attack. Will Susserton stand with us?”

“As the prince said, you will be a part of Susserton, and it won’t do for it to leave its people on the wayside,” she said. “But…well, the best protection you will ever get is from your neighbours.”

Matthaeus’ expression was pointed as it turned my way. It was a trap, but one so good I had to let its jaws bite my leg. I’d already been thinking about staying and this would make things easier. Just like people in the west of Althor could run to Washerton, I would be allowing others the ability to run here.

But I would have to throw my lot in with Ran, play the politics to make sure I was surrounded by similarly minded people, and that was above the favours he’d have hanging over my head.

Nothing is simple, I thought before I nodded. When I’d escaped it hadn’t been a done deal that I would get where I was going, some of it — most of it — had been the luck brought on by always moving forward. This was the only path I could see that would get me what I wanted.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll take it with everything that comes with it.”

Quinn visibly brightened. “Good,” she said. “Good. Now onto the matter of my father. He’s agreed to meet you both.”

“Is he in town?” Matthaeus asked.

Quinn nodded. “He’s upstairs, but you’ll have to relinquish all your weapons before you see him. If my father’s right on your past, Champion, then I trust you will not be trying to kill him — he believes the same thing, which is a good sign if you’re looking to ask a favour from him — but my sister is a paranoid lout and she wants to make sure Father sees two hundred years of age. She will not let you see him without the requisite precautions.”

“I get it,” I said and Matthaeus nodded.

Quinn gestured and in one of the tables a woman along with three men stood and neared. The woman in the lead was on the shorter side, with a round face dotted with freckles and hair set in braids. She didn’t carry any weapons, but she had the easy confidence of a warrior — something that meant she could probably call in her weapon like Allyceus or was perhaps a mage in one of the magical arts.

“Champion Khaya and Prince Matthaeus, I would like to introduce you to my older sister, Sicilia.”

“Leave all weapons and packs behind,” said Sicilia, her tone brooking no argument. “In a more private area you will be searched.”

“That’ll be invasive,” Quinn chirped in.

“How invasive?” I asked.

“Someone we thought was an ally hid a fire gem up their nether region,” said Sicilia and I shuddered. “We’ve had to up our search. It would help if you disclosed any and everything you have. If you lie, we’ll have to be more thorough.”

I shuddered again and I could see that Matthaeus also wasn’t happy.

“You’re free to refuse,” she said. “But I’m responsible for my father’s safety and I would rather no meeting occur than the chance of his death. Especially when everything surrounding you two doesn’t make sense. One leaving his family and promising to work against them; while a man described as a coward managed to fool warriors of a higher prowess than him, and succeeded in an escape that happened to put him in the company of the once lost prince of Althor.”

“Like I said, paranoid,” Quinn said as if it were a joke.

“I’ll give myself over to your search,” said Matthaeus and I nodded, even though I didn’t want to. We gave over our stuff and then went upstairs. I thought about not telling them about my spatial marble, but eventually decided against it, a good thing too because the search wasn’t something I wanted to ever experience again.

“I don’t think I’ll ever put myself through that again,” I muttered, feeling less of a person than I had been at the start of the day.

“Then you’re unlikely to ever be in a room with Father ever again,” said Sicilia as she stood in the hall that would lead us to the back-most room. Matthaeus said nothing, but he didn’t look so good either.

I expected Rowan as we were ushered into the guarded room, instead there was a spatial stone, with diagrams whose lines were only barely thicker than a coin from back home. The stone stretched up from the floor to the ceiling of the room, but it was smaller than the ones I’d seen able to move people.

“That obelisk is too small,” said Matthaeus, stopping short. “You cannot expect it to transport people.”

“Is that dangerous?” I asked. “Stones that are too small?”

“It could move some things and leave others,” said Matthaeus. “Body parts, perhaps, or a soul. There are records of people who were moved and arrived whole in body, but they were nothing but husks for the rest of their lives.”

“Father is the foremost mind in spatial magic in the Commonality,” said Quinn. “And my sister and I have used this stone before. You’ll be you when you arrive on the other side.”

“Forgive me if I do not trust your word,” said Matthaeus.

“If we wanted to kill you, Prince Matthaeus, there would be easier means,” said Sicilia. “You’ve already been freed of your weapons and a moment ago you were even disrobed. Let us not extend things more than is needed, Father is a busy man.”

“Mages can already call people without access to a stone,” I said to Matthaeus. He turned to me. “It’s what happened when I arrived. One of the Grand Mages moved his hand in a circle and made your father disappear. Maybe that’s an artificial restriction?”

Matthaeus didn’t look happy but he sighed and nodded. We got close to the stone while Sicilia touched an empty area about the size of a hand. The air rippled like water, blurring and darkening the furniture spread around; then the process reversed, with the furniture and dimensions that sprouted into existence in different places.

The room that appeared was circular, with a bright chandelier made of luminous gems hanging from the ceiling; it was an office in feel, with a tall bookshelf hugging the wall and places where books and scrolls spilled out onto tables and the floor. I was surprised to see that there was no door in or out of the room, nor any windows that pointed outside, but that probably made sense when its denizen was a spatial mage.

The mage himself stood before a roaring fireplace, his back bent by age and his arms crossed behind his back. He turned on our arrival, revealing a white-haired man with a long white beard, dressed in robes that were black with white speckles scattered across them. Rowan smiled as his eyes found mine, the severe wrinkles of his face moving with the change of expression.

“Father,” said Sicilia. “I bring you Champion Khaya and Prince Matthaeus of Althor.”

Rowan flicked his hand and I heard three sighs as the others disappeared. Before I could reel — a part of me yearning for my temporal ring — he pointed down with one hand, conjuring two chairs and a table between him; then pulled and I was suddenly closer, able to see the piercing blue eyes and the elated expression of his quirked lips.

“You’re finally here,” he said, voice low and gravelly, an undercurrent of wisdom flowing through it. “Sit, sit. I have so many questions.”