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human.
    “My former master in Blackbay was most devout and insisted everyone in his household learn and worship the Rhonas pantheon,” Bartolem explained in haste. “See that row of statues lining the side of the building. Each of the statues depicted another aspect of the eye of the sun traversing the sky and the trickster moon dancing in chase. Kiris is the goddess of light and dark—she who sees the seen and the unseen.”
    “Let’s hope she isn’t watching now,” Urulani muttered. “So where is Braun?”
    “I saw the wizard down on the left, toward the Governor’s old home.”
    Urulani nodded and started through the tents, leaving Bartolem in her wake. Creatures and humans stumbled over themselves to get out of the way and honor Urulani all at the same time. Ahead of her, to the west, she could see the subatria that had supported the Governor’s House. The avatria no longer pierced the sky, but lay in a heap at the far side of its foundation.
    Then, through the tents on her left, she saw it.
    It was a low stone platform of the same design which, according to Braun, commonly supported nearly every elven fold throughout the Rhonas Empire and well into its provinces. In this case, however, itwas incomplete as there was no fold established above it for the platform to support.
    It was, however, supporting Braun and a rather agitated Jugar.
    Urulani frowned. Having the dwarf and human wizards in any kind of proximity had become increasingly volatile and even dangerous over the weeks since the two had met.
    Braun was still as insane as Drakis had described him but somehow knew more about Aether magic than even the mysterious dwarf Jugar. He had proved himself invaluable so far in the campaign and, if Belag were to be believed, had even proved adept at opening gateway folds more spectacularly than anyone—elf or human—of whom she had ever heard. Braun had even begun teaching some of the humans among the warriors the arts of drawing on the Aether and putting it to use in warfare. Yet despite these considerable skills to his credit, he still made Urulani uneasy.
    “Air Mistress!” shouted Braun, waving from atop the platform. Fortunately, no one began a chanting chorus at the sound of her title.
    Braun’s face broke into a wide smile. He was a short man with a stocky build and a large, hooked nose. Dark hair streaked with gray had emerged from his head, still raggedly short, as it had not been growing long. His original Sinque mark still showed through its bristles, reminding Urulani that this man had once been enslaved by the elves.
    Urulani climbed the stairs up the side of the fold platform and was immediately confronted by the dwarf.
    “Well, it’s about time someone came capable of talking sense!” exclaimed the gruff voice from farther back on the level stone stage. “Where’s Drakis?”
    Where indeed,
Urulani thought, but she chose other words to speak aloud. “He is delayed. He asked me to come and find out why you called for him so urgently.”
    Jugar planted both his fists on his hips. “I’ve had to listen to this windbag bellow pointless noises for the last hour and, despite my most diplomatic efforts, I assure you, I’ve made
no headway
against his nonsense!”
    “It worked, didn’t it?” Braun countered.
    “That’s beside the point!” the dwarf sputtered.
    Urulani looked at the dwarf and sighed. Jugar appeared to be in rather high dudgeon. He wore a padded leather coat that he had cut off at the arms and to a length to better fit him. The canvas trousers and linen shirt were a far cry from the original garish clothing that Drakis had first found him wearing as he emerged from the hiding place beneath the king’s throne. Urulani had to admit that she missed the colorful costume although the dwarf had managed to retain his wide brimmed hat. “Jugar, what
is
the point?”
    “The point is that this human charlatan shouldn’t be practicing magic without a license!” the dwarf sputtered