Childe Edan to the Dark Tower Came

Once they're moving, Edan says, "Ygg for the first stop. I'm thinking we go to Fiona's tower, hold her there, contact my grandmother by myself or through the grackleflints, and see how she feels about a visit. I don't want to go to her until I know what she wants to do. And we would be betrayed for a handful of silver in the City of Brass."

Martin makes a face at that last but. He leads the way down the mountain, bypassing the turnoff to Xanadu city and heading inland further down the mountain. "I'll take the lead to Ygg. You need to recover your strength for getting hold of Clarissa or any spellwork we need to do on the other side anyway."

Edan does take a moment to examine the eggshell he was given when they head out, make sure that it activates by breaking rather than, say, a command word or action. Then he puts it away with a little charm to ensure it doesn't break by accident.

They move down the trail, down the mountain, at a gentle pace to start. Not something to draw attention, an easy trot that eats up distance. It takes a while, and Edan glances over occasionally to make sure Vialle is still out. He sighs, as he knows it will be a long ride.

Edan knows they're far enough when clouds begin to darken the sky and one of the horses snorts in anticipation. They turn, switch back...the grass grows tall and brown, then short and green again...the wind picks up and grows colder. There is a flare of a bonfire in the distance...it fades as they ride into the darkness, a rumble and drops of rain...

Steeper now and slick rock...down, down...the wind tugs at them, singing a harsh note, memories of the plain it just passed through, flattened grasses...down to a rain-swollen river, turning left, water boiling beside them...the rain stings them now, lightning crawls through the clouds...the smell of ozone as the water forks and they turn and climb beside the smaller fork and the rain stops as if switched off...

Meteorites burn above them as they climb, rain and clouds gone...one moon sets as a second rises, bronze and silver...faster now, the trail evens out...hooves make a metallic crash as they canter...the trail becomes silver and translucent, glowing then fading, the land drops away from them...a gallop now on a floating plane of transparent glass...a sinuous shape flies across the silver moon as the trail becomes ragged and diaphanous...they are in the stars, on clouds, the ground is gone, a city of glass on a nearby cloud that shatters and crumbles as they pass...a illusion of slowness as they hurtle across a great distance, the sky like a sea, the stars fish, the constellations octopus arms that reach for them...it is freedom, chaos, the power of themselves writing their will upon the Shadows...it feels bold and right and fiery, and they laugh as the elation fills them...they are Princes of Creation, they are Force and Will, penning themselves upon a blank page...the meteors follow them now, they race upon one, across the crags and ice and jagged boulders...trees sprout, become thick, orange boles and purple fronds...open to a town, a city, hooves sparking on cobblestones...bright painted doors and shutters fly past...a verdant sky now, lime green unbearable brightness, buildings gone and the trees giving way to sea...white spray that becomes dust becomes fog...distant horns become sirens that signal a storm of glowing fire...they cut to the side, horses neigh in protest as Martin draws them under an outcropping...fiery rain hisses as it plunks into the sea...

Faster faster...scenes flash by in ragged discordances...directionless shrieks and wailing...grass again, leads to piedmont, then mountains...leaping a rough fence to reach a trail, then up up up...the sun appears, races across the sky...startled faces of troll-kin as they are passed...colored fire in ribbons across the sky, on the ground, racing across them, up to a lonely tree in the near distance...

Draw rein.

Edan is gasping and covered in sweat, but he stays mounted in case Martin wants to keep moving. The Tree ahead looks as he remembers, though, and for the moment it is still and quiet.

Martin doesn't look as wiped out as Edan despite the fact that he was in the lead for the ride. That's not to say he isn't tired, though; he shakes his head once and dismounts slowly. His voice is a bit ragged as he says, "What next? Are we going to try our aunt's or your grandmother's?"

"The tower. It should be near to here. I ran into grackleflints before I found it last time I was out here, but I know what it looks like. Have you been there?"

"I know where it is. I've never been there formally. You might do better to lead there," Martin says. "You're probably more welcome there than I am, even now."

Edan nods. "Let's go back and then forward. It's on the Ordered side, yes? I remember hearing that Random used Pattern there. If you think I'm off the trail, tell me."

Martin nods, once. "It's on the ordered side. I'll correct if I catch you off the route, or tell you--it's hard to work a shared shift if you're not pretty tight."

Edan nods, tightens his grip on the reins, and they turn to the right and down.

Losing the sun for directionless yellow light is too fast; the price is a storm, and Edan grits his teeth and keeps his shoulder up to keep the sudden cold needle rain off his face. He turns it into a shortcut; with each sudden lightning flash, the world looks different. The trees grow high. The ground becomes marshy and wet vines pelt them as they ride. But the sun erupts behind them again, smaller but warmer, and water steams and dries even as the bright yellow ball fades into directionless light. Half the battle.

Fires appear, licking from holes and crevasses and cave mouths. The smoke is black and cloying and eerily like that if the City of Brass. Edan breathes it in, but he has to turn them away to spare the others. He turns again and again; marsh becomes grass, then desert, then broken igneous rock. He puts them in motion, racing around the circumference like a giant wheel, keeping to the smaller, slower rocks while black boulders and hills raced around above them. Somewhere off to the left, there should be a tower near the center of this gravity nightmare, someplace where the rocks don't do their spinning thing. He keeps an eye out, calculating, confident that there's enough fire to help save them if he suddenly had to switch to Sorcery.

Edan's manipulations combine with Martin's to guide them safely through the perils of the way, and soon enough they find themselves at the foot of the dark stone tower that is Fiona's habitat.

"Childe Edan to the Dark Tower came," says Martin. "I was really thinking of the other place, but this one will do. Fiona's got more stuff at the other one that she'd be pissed if we, or she---" Martin indicates his bundle "---blow up."

"I never think about her new place," Edan says. "This one was strong enough to hold Brand, and it had grackleflints guarding it. It's the first thing I thought of.

"Speaking of," says Martin. "There are some of your grandmother's favorite legionnaires now." He gestures, and when Edan follows the gesture, he too sees a small group of grackleflints riding down toward them. Unless Edan does something, it looks like there's going to be a fight.

Martin is garbed effectively for it: leather jacket and trousers and a sword across the pommel of his saddle. But he doesn't have a distance weapon immediately to hand.

The grackleflints do, some kind of crossbow thing.

If it comes to a fight, so be it, but he's going to try and talk first. Edan uses one of the nearby flames to cast a spell, one that creates large translucent faces behind him. He moves forward, hands spread, with the images of Fiona and Clarissa and the grackleflint leader (sorry, will find his name if needed) behind him. If somebody shoots, he'll have to drop the spell for something more immediate.

"We just need to talk to you!" he yells out.

Martin follows up by repeating what Edan said in Mabrahoring. His reflexes for dealing with Chaosians are pretty good.

The grackleflints stop, with their weapons aimed at the two of them, and respond in Mabrahoring: "Who are you, and what do you want?"

Edan tries to dredge up his Mabrahoring; he hopes he's saying what he's saying and not cursing the thing's ancestors. It's one of two important reasons why he tries to keep it simple. "I am Edan. I am Fiona's brother's son. I am Clarissa's grandson.

"We have a prisoner. She is very dangerous. I know this tower will hold her for a time while I get in contact with Clarissa." He frowns. "We thought the tower was vacant. I have treated with Emil in the past, if he claims this place. I will do so again, if need be."

Martin says in very clear Mabrahoring, "I am the Way. I come in peace. Defy my kinsman and I will destroy you."

The Grackleflints look at Edan and look at Martin and think about it. "You may pass, both the Way and the kin of Clarissa." Kin-relations are difficult concepts for Grackleflints outside of siblinghood, so the details of the relationships are probably not clear to them.

Martin lowers his crossbow and looks to Edan.

Edan nods and leads the way; he also keeps his head turned enough so that the grackleflints stay in his peripheral vision. The Doomgiver spell isn't up yet, but he'll keep it ready while they're still in crossbow range.

"I need a better mysterious code name. 'Fire dancer' is fine sometimes, but it would fall flat here." He glances up. "I've never been inside, but if those things are still here maybe it's been maintained."

"Somebody's maintaining it. Could be our aunt, could be her mother. Also, trust me, you don't want to get a name like mine. You really don't." Martin makes a face in Edan's general direction as they ride up toward the tower entrance.

"I'm hoping this can be resolved quickly," Edan says to Martin. "The cell Brand was rescued from, I need to see if the shackles are still charmed, if they ever were."

There's a paddock by the entrance, and there are signs that the Grackleflint's mounts came from it. It's definitely big enough to also hold Edan's and Martin's mounts. It may be variably sized. The doors open to a low anteroom, and stairs run up to the upper levels. There are no windows, but it is nevertheless well lit inside. There's a table towards the back, with a bouquet of flowers and a cheese plate on it.

Someone seems to be expecting them. Or expecting someone.

This makes Edan very unhappy. "Let's take her up the stairs, I need to see what we're dealing with. Then..." he looks straight at Martin. "Maybe I'll need help getting a fire together. Now that Vialle is away from the center of things, maybe we can see more. I don't like that Fiona couldn't answer my question. Trust but verify. This is too big for us to get played."

"Yeah. This whole thing--" Martin gestures at the room "--reads Chaosian hospitality. Which could be natural given who's guarding the place." He leaves the other option unspoken. "I haven't been inside before. You're going to have to lead the way. And I have a lighter, if we need it."

"All right." Edan frees a hand and waves it in front of his face, leaving the barest hint of smoke in front of his eyes. "Let's go." He leads them in and heads straight up the stairs, all three Eyes open and seeing, to see if anyone is waiting.

It's always difficult to walk, talk, look with all three eyes, and cart a body wrapped in a rug at the same time but Edan can do so by going slowly. The spell smoke helps. The stairs lead up to a second level, which has what look like servants quarters on one side and working rooms on the the other. Another flight up are what seem to be bedrooms. One might've been converted into a cell at some point. It's sparsely finished and the door, while opened, is both physically and magically reinforced.

Edan thinks Fiona's workrooms are higher still, but it's probable that this was Brand's keeping place.

The carpet stirs.

Martin, a solid lump of Pattern power, softly says, "Let's do it."

Edan nods, and leads them over to the 'cell' room and in. If there's a bed or pallet, that's where the rug is going. He looks to see if the manacles have been replaced, if it all goes sideways and they're needed.

There are manacles there, and Martin helps Edan shackle Vialle before she can get really conscious. It's not clear where he got the Ray Bans, either, but he does have a pair and is wearing them. "Careful about meeting her gaze," Martin says, and offers Edan a pair.

Edan's not a doctor, and he's never done a possession, but he does know a geas and there's got to be a significant difference between someone who has been replaced and someone merely possessed. He takes these last moments to stare hard with the Third Eye, letting his filter help him if necessary, to try and see what -- and who -- he's dealing with. His hands flame for a moment, illuminating, as he moves them in a circular pattern around her. Then, he'll snuff the fires out and put on the sunglasses.

With the Third Eye, Edan can see that there are two flames burning in Vialle: one somewhat brighter than that of a Shadow mortal, and another that burns so bright it would blind him completely were he not filtering his vision. Edan feels certain that Vialle is possessed by something ancient and powerful, more powerful than Edan himself and even than Bleys or Fiona. As he snuffs out the fires, he's probably relieved that he's got the sunglasses.

Edan sighs unhappily as he puts them on. Possession, then. In the plus column, the sudden paranoid theory of Maybe It Was Fiona All Along is pretty much disproven. On the minus, the Queen of Xanadu has been possessed by the Queen of Air and Darkness. How in Suleman's name was he going to fix This?

Fiona should have seen this. Father should have seen this. But then Edan realizes he's thinking of them like their cards again, cold, untouchable, strong, and maybe in their rush to save the king they were touched by the fog of war like anyone else.

"Vialle plus One," he says to Martin. Then, "Full disclosure. I've only ever walked the Tir Pattern."

Martin nods, once.

Vialle says, "Where am I?" a bit woozily, and then, "Who's there? My husband will be very unhappy with you, whoever you are." It sounds to Edan just like Vialle would if she were fully herself.

"It's Edan, your Majesty. And I imagine Random will be unhappy with me for a number of things when he regains his faculties. To which Majesty am I addressing?"

"Who do you think you're talking to?" Vialle sounds like herself; it's like she's not possessed at all as far as Edan can tell. "Edan, you need to take me to Random at once. He'll forgive you if I ask him to."

Martin's eyebrows go up and he shrugs slightly, palms upward. "Edan's acting on my instructions. As KCs of Card and Lamp, we are working together for the security of Xanadu and the King's person."

"I will be the al-Qadi, the teller of harsh truths. I will tell you the story as I know it. But you have the last puzzle piece. I know you went to Tir with Cambina. I also heard you were long indisposed beforehand, heard you had nightmares. Are the two things related? What drove you to essay the Stair?"

Her lips tighten. Not being sighted, she may not know how much her emotions show on her face.

"Edan, I am chained to a wall. If you want to have a discussion with me, I think you need to unchain me first. It's not as if the two of you are in any danger from a blind pregnant woman." She snorts. "The only person in danger is the King's unborn child."

Martin says, with surprising gentleness, "Vialle--if that's even you--we're not having a discussion. He's conducting an interrogation."

"If it is you, your Majesty, I am truly sorry for this necessity," Edan says. "Let me tell you how I understand things, and you will see how we ended up here. And where I am wrong, feel free to correct me.

"The death of Oberon emboldened the Gheneshi. Whether to settle old scores with Amber, or to wrest some prize from Tir-na Nog'th, the Marshall sought natural shadow paths to lead the Moonriders back our way. I have seen them. But the Queen, she had another agenda. Bodiless, she sought female members of the family, suitable hosts for herself. Family that might be vulnerable. She was seen several times in this form.

"And so she came upon you. She plied your psyche through your dreams. Nightmares. With one goal in mind, have you walk the Pattern in Tir. I can see that you have done so, you burn brighter than a mortal. She either scared you in your dreams or made you an offer you couldn't refuse." He pauses. "A child, perhaps, since you were now Queen of Xanadu and such things mattered. You took Cambina with you to Tir, down to the Pattern chamber. You walked the Pattern. Cambina fell to her death. And then the Queen of Air and Darkness had you. Through you, she ensorcelled Random- something I didn't think even possible, in a Pattern realm- and was about to declare your child heir to the throne.

"I don't much care about the succession. My loyalty is to Random. If he declared this thing on his own, maybe things would be different. But I am bound to oppose this corruption of him and the Realm. So, here we are. The Queen of Air and Darkness is within you. I can see her. She has placed fell magics upon the King and within the palace. For all I know, she's placed a signpost for the Moonriders to follow. I aim to break both. But I am willing to talk."

"Edan," Vialle says calmly, "I know you think this is true, but it's not. Who told you this? Martin? He's resented me marrying his father for a long time, and now he's having his revenge. Now let me go, and we can talk about the rest of this."

Edan starts to shake his head, but stops himself. He'll have to watch that. "Martin hasn't said a word to me. I have seen much of this for myself, and others have seen the Queen's movements. I was the one who infiltrated the Rider's camp when the Queen revealed herself to them. I have seen what's in the nursery. I see what is inside you right now, near-blinding with power. Is there another explanation for the ancient overwhelmingly powerful presence within you?"

"I'm not a sorcerer, Vialle," Martin adds. "I'm trusting him on this part. And don't bother appealing to me. I'm not letting you loose. I'll be sorry if you lose my sibling -- assuming it is -- but I won't release you unless it's safe." He glances at Edan and mouths 'or there's no other option'.

"Well, as a prisoner, I shan't talk at all. I'd like some water, please, and I want to talk to my husband, your King. I'll ask him for mercy for you both, regardless, but I think you should definitely ask for that yourselves as well."

Edan gives her water, if such is available from the provisions around. "The second thing... is possible. I will make that happen as soon as I can. And, well, let us say that I am accurate in what I have said. I am willing to negotiate."

Vialle looks stubborn. "The King has been very sick and I have been treating him. If you do not take me to him, I cannot tell you how much you risk his very life with your misguided ideas about me. If the King were to die because of you, it would be a disaster. Amber and Xanadu are so fragile.

"I cannot tell you what you ask. It depends on something that is not true. I cannot even lie to you since I don't know what you want me to say.

She tries to cross her arms, but fails because of the chains and looks even more frustrated.

Martin looks at the door. "Maybe you'll feel more like talking in the morning. Whenever that is."

Edan nods at Martin, and then says, "I don't know what to say. I know what I saw. Even if it is as bad as it looks, I am open to talk. Please think on this."

Vialle nods. "Please try to find me a longer chain, this is not comfortable. And please consider that if you've made a mistake it will become increasingly difficult for me to fix it for you."

When they get the door closed behind them, and are safely down the hall where Vialle is unlikely to be able to hear them, Martin says, "Okay, now we have to figure out what to do. I don't think it's safe to call Dad and I don't know if it's safe to call Folly. Do you understand what she was doing to shake Dad out of it?"

"We can't stay here, either," Edan says distantly. "The way I understand it, Brand got messages out while chained. I think we lucked out with this place, how effective it is, but now we have the tiger by the tail." He seems to listen then, and adds, "No, I don't know what Folly is doing. Is she a sorceress?"

"No, more of a ritual magician working her way through music. She's trying to shake Dad out of it that way, and if she can't do that, she's trying with the Great Rite. Do you know what that is?" Martin, who is usually impenetrable cool, sounds surprisingly agitated.

Edan sucks in a breath and releases it slowly. It is more for him to make some internal decision than anything else.

Finally, he holds up a hand, as if releasing some secret to the light. "My expertise is in ritual casting. The short answer is yes, I do. I know many esoteric Principles. Sex is one of them." He pauses. "Imagine your father dragging you into Shadow as a teenager to teach you this thing after a lifetime in the Land of Peace. Imagine not having found your source of Power yet, so all your ritual attempts spectacularly fail. The awkwardness was...memorable. Delicious. Come for the embarrassment, stay for the feelings of failure. Well." He looks at Martin, then away. "I was going to say you are a stronger man than I for being so stoic about it, but I see perhaps you are not. It may help you to know that if Sex magic got Random in this state, the same Principle would be unusually effective to get him back out."

"Yeah, I get that." Martin sighs and runs his fingers through his hair, which is really too short for him to need to do that. "And it's more important than anything else that he be free, above and beyond him being my father. It's just--under the circumstances, all of them, which are a little more complex, it's wise for all parties if I personally remain out of contact for a while. I've got a full deck and some cousin cards that Merlin and Paige have made. Other than Dad, who we obviously don't want to contact in case she failed, who do you think you want to talk to?" He pulls out his Trump deck and starts shuffling his way through it.

"I am a fool. I should have thought of that. Even if I haven't yet found a deck for myself. Cast your cards, let's see if there's an answer to this dilemma." Edan reaches into one of his pockets to produce a palm-ful of cinders. "First, this. I want you to see what I saw. I don't want you to have to question yourself later."

A few passes with his other hand, a mini tornado of burned wood and dust, and an image forms over his palm, a replica of what he saw in Vialle using his Third Eye.

What Martin says isn't in Thari but it's pretty clear he's swearing a blue streak.

"Did you see this, Kyauta?" Edan glances down towards the swath of cloth his affine had become for travel. "What did you see?"

"That Lord rides its affine," Kyauta says.

Edan winces at the comparison, but it's accurate enough. "That's what I saw. Would you cast your cards, Martin? We can't harm her, I can't fight her, we can't stay here, and Clarissa is a nuclear option. The wise man knows the path he treads."

"Yeah, so we ought to try that too," Martin says, sounding more annoyed than usual. He pushes his hair, which is really too short for this, back out of his face, and draws the deck out. Then he shuffles and lays out the pyramid:

Bottom row:

Spring

Drowning in Armor

Knowledge

Second row:

The Lion (Reversed)

The King

Top card:

Random

"Well," says Martin, "what do you make of that, besides, duh, Dad is at stake?"

"It did a wonderful job of outlining the problem," Edan says. "Maybe not so much a solution. What I see is: Past growth. Could be us, or the Gheneshi. Our greatest defense- the Pattern- becomes our weakness. For instance, this Pattern technique of the Queen that we can't resist. We will gain knowledge, hopefully in order to defeat it. The king is our fault, and of course Random himself hangs in the balance. But our virtue is weakness? Ours, or Vialle's? If our weakness is the virtue, that argues the Queen is overconfident. If Vialle's, I would say the host is the weak point of their...amalgam. I don't see a clear answer. Merely action and consequence."

"The thing is, I was ready to solve that problem and I got a 'no'. From the Unicorn. I don't know how to exorcise You-Know-Who from the person she's wearing like a glove without making it a terminal affair." Martin draws his index finger across his throat. "So if we have to separate them, how do we do it?"

"I don't know." Edan looks away. "A death curse, perhaps. Tir's Pattern protects her from Sorcery. She is not Chaosi, so she is not malleable to most things I could think of. I don't know her true name. You don't want me trying to take her on in a duel. There may not be a choice besides Grandmother."

"Do you want to try any of the Trumps first?" Martin has the rest of his deck in hand and makes to offer it to Edan so he can use one of the cards to contact a relative if he wants to.

"I don't know if he will have any ideas, but I'll try Father," Edan says. Once he gets the Trump of Bleys, he concentrates on the image.

There is no answer.

After a little time, Edan drops his concentration and hands back the card, face down. He shakes his head. But there's a sad little smile on his mouth.

"I only saw the two of them, and assumed the king's child was just... overwhelmed. Dazzled. Hidden within all the power. But no. The Queen of Air and Darkness isn't in there with the baby. Maeve is the baby. I was laboring under the impression it was less worse than it is. It took some quiet focus to come to grips with it, I guess."

Edan's eyes are bright gold. "It occurs to me there is another chance. I need only make Her want to leave Vialle, not fight her head on. When we leave here, and soon, I know where to go. To match Her ensorcellent with ritual, I need flame I cannot raise here. I must fully embrace the thing I used to hate the most. Myself." He glances at Martin. "I don't know how you're going to survive it."

"That doesn't sound good," Martin says. "What are we doing?"

"Despite the chance of outside betrayal, there's only one place I might be strong enough to drive the Queen away from Vialle. The City of Brass. It sits upon a lake of fire and glows with a near-molten heat of its own. I am guessing I will need to shield you, yes? It would be the strongest place I could be."

"I'm not a sorcerer, but I know how to shield myself in Chaos. And not to leave bits of my fingernails around for people to use against me either," Martin adds, to make the point a little clearer. "Is that enough, do you think? You might have to shield me anyway."

"I think I would. The heat is deadly." Edan looks back at the door. "I would almost have wanted to go there first. But we needed a safe spot, and we didn't know exactly what was going on with Vialle. She isn't going to change her mind simply chained up. Did you want to do watches?"

"Yeah, let's do watches. Have you got anything that we can use to keep her from doing Sorcery? I mean the lack of movement is going to limit it, but really powerful sorcerers don't seem to need that in my experience. And I don't want to underestimate what we're dealing with here," Martin says.

Edan's expression falls. "Not much. I should check the chains, if they were effective on Brand they should have limiting properties. I can make a ritual that might interfere with Sorcery in a limited area, but it will be very warm in there." He glances back at the door. "Pattern works the best, of course."

"I can handle it for one night. I lived in Chaos for a couple of decades so I should be able to do one hot night with my dad's possessed spouse standing on my head," Martin says, smiling crookedly. "Let's get things set, then you rest, do whatever prep you need, and let's go."

Edan nods agreement, and sets off to find some things in the tower: three coal or wood braziers (torches will do if nothing else), coal or wood to go in them, a metal pitcher, a cup or glass, and drinkable water. He also looks around for rare woods or burnables that would help him in a ritual, but he's more expecting that he'll have to make do with a steady hand and a chunk of burning coal to draw symbols with.

Edan finds a cabinet of sorcerous goods that's full of ritual implements, props, and consumables. It includes fine incense and some sticks of rare woods from different Shadows. It's almost as if someone planned for Edan to come here and stock up at some point.

"Brilliant!" Edan selects what he thinks he needs, then goes back and sneaks some extra for later. He wonders, for a second, if Father or Grandmother was responsible for this boon; but he decides to dwell on it later. With a tray filled with material components and an ice-cold pitcher of water (the heat removed), he begs Martin for help in moving the braziers and heads back through the cell door.

Martin will help Edan as requested.

Vialle turns her face from the wall and asks, "What are you doing?" and sniffs the air loudly.

Which is about the point when Martin gets a frown on his face and a look of extreme concentration and holds up a hand in the familiar 'bide' gesture.

Like a line of magician's patter, Edan addresses Vialle and tries to keep her attention off Martin. "I brought water. It's cold, but I can adjust the temperature if you wish. No luck finding longer chains yet, but I want to have a look at these. Perhaps a little Sorcery is in order." He winces. "Pun not intended."

"I will take the water." Vialle starts to add something but before the first syllable of whatever she meant to say is complete, she decides against, leaving Edan with sort of deflating noise.

Meanwhile Martin is still dealing with the trump contact and doesn't say anything, though Edan can see him balling his fist with effort.

Edan frowns at this, wondering who would bring about a contact so strong that Martin would need this kind of effort to shrug it off. That wasn't good news. But for his part, he concentrates on the water first, pours the cup and brings it up to Vialle's mouth. He tries to make the process as efficient as possible, considering she can't see or use her hands.

Vialle is having a hard time drinking from the cup. After a moment, Martin brushes the contact off and comes to help. "Let me do this," he tells Edan. "I know what I'm doing. It's harder for a Rebman; the instincts aren't there." He moves to take the water from Edan.

Martin proves handier at offering Vialle water without slopping it down her front. Not that Edan is clumsy. Vialle just has a hard time drinking it.

"Sorry," Edan says, and means it. He busies himself with the task of inspecting the chains, mostly to see if a charm or property is present to negate or interfere with Sorcery.

It's not apparent to Edan how it was done, but there is something about the chains that appears to retard Sorcery. There's no obvious indication without looking with the Third Eye about how it was done. When he was dealing with them before and looking at Vialle with them, it simply appeared that they were very Real.

Otherwise they appear to be very well-made chains of iron. Simple, as if they were produced with a very basic technique.

"Hmm. Well, no new chains yet. The search continues." Edan finds himself humming something from that crazy shadow Paige likes- Fleetwood Mac, that was it. While still humming, he sets the braziers up to the sides and foot of the bed, out of Vialle's reach. He fusses with an esoteric mix of wood and tar in each one before setting each alight.

When smoke begins to issue out in its threads, he winds the streams together with passes of his hands and chanting until he has a complex knotted rope of smoke around the room.

Vialle is sniffing a lot like she's trying to figure out what's going on in the room, but she doesn't say anything. Other than helping her drink, Martin says and does nothing.

Edan ends with a thumbs-up gesture to Martin. For the moment, he's done what he can do.

"I can take first watch," Martin offers.

Edan nods agreement, says, "I'll be just outside." Once he goes outside the door, he takes a moment to check out the rest of the tower (if they've missed anything).

The entire time, something gnaws at him- has Vialle not been living in Xanadu for months? Above the waves? Is the trouble she had drinking, did it jibe with the experience she should have? He tries to work out the sense of it.

As far as Edan can tell everything is fine with the tower. And honestly, the reason Vialle appeared to be having a hard time drinking is that it's hard to drink when someone else is holding the cup. Especially when you're blind.