“ ’Sar?” Sorgrad’s initial distrust softened into a broad smile. “What are you up to these days?” He brushed a few sere leaves off his blanket and sat cross-legged upon it.

“This is what bespeaking looks like from the other side, is it?” ’Gren dropped down beside his brother with sudden amusement. “Have you ever caught someone ploughing his lady’s furrow? Or someone else’s?”

“We’ve had word from Livak.” Usara spoke without preamble. “Pirates have landed on those islands in the mid-ocean that ships bound for Kellarin use as a staging post.”

“I recall the maps.” Sorgrad’s azure eyes were astute. They hardened. “I’m sure Planir has some cunning plan to sink them.”

“Pirates?”

’Gren raised a curious finger to poke at the spell before Sorgrad slapped it away.

“Planir says it’s none of his concern, nor yet Hadrumal’s,” Shiv said tartly.

“Ryshad and Halice are raising a force from Kellarin and we’re in Zyoutessela looking to do the same.” Usara matched the Mountain Man’s directness. “Livak said you could help us.”

“Zyoutessela?” Sorgrad elbowed his grinning brother in the ribs to forestall some comment. “Don’t know it but docks are much of a muchness, Col, Peorle, wherever.” He frowned. “We’re the wrong side of Lagontar.”

“We’ll hitch a ride to Nestar Haven and pick up a ship for Col.”

’Gren was already securing his blanket with a leather strap and foraging among the leaves for a battered leather backpack.

“Col to Attar, then across the Gulf of Lescar. We can’t get to you soon enough to be any use.” Sorgrad shook his head. “But I can give you a few hints to save you getting robbed yourselves.”

“We can’t leave Livak and Halice twisting in the wind.” ’Gren looked mulish. “And why should they get all the loot?”

“That’s an interesting point.” Sorgrad smiled. “Even advice should be worth some silver.”

“You won’t just help us for Livak’s sake?” Shiv looked disappointed.

“You should take to acting in masquerades, wizard,” Sorgrad laughed. “Livak would be the first one to take a rise out of me for not asking a fair price.”

Usara shrugged. “D’Alsennin can pay you a share in whatever loot the pirates may have.”

“We get to pick it over,” demanded ’Gren.

The wizards looked at each other. “If Halice agrees,” Usara said cautiously.

“But we want more from you that just advice. We want to bring you here to do this yourself.” Shiv bent closer to the mirror. “Sorgrad, how much elemental magic have you learned in Solura?”

Sorgrad’s face hardened. “Not enough to make this trip worth my while.”

“Have you any notion of translocating yourself?” asked Usara.

“The spell’s closely tied to air affinity,” Shiv assured him. “You should at least be able to try.”

“Pigs can try whistling but they’re still ill suited to it.” Sorgrad shook his head obstinately.

“Then we’ll bring you here ourselves.” Shiv absently rubbed his palms on his thighs.

“You drop me in the ocean, wizard, and I won’t drown until I’ve made you sorry for it.”

’Gren was looking wary and accordingly threatening.

“Sorgrad, I know you can summon a candle flame. You can hold this bespeaking steady to help us.” Usara set the mirror down on the table and Shiv hurried to sit opposite him.

“How?” Sorgrad asked with reluctant interest.

“Feel for the fire,” said Shiv. “Use it to maintain the circle of light.”

With the mirror now flat, Usara allowed himself a sceptical look at the other mage.

Shiv didn’t respond, concentrating instead on the mirror. “All you have to do is sustain the reflection.”

The spell dimmed and Sorgren’s cautious voice took on a metallic echo. “Like this?”

“That’ll do,” Usara assured him. “If we work cursed fast,” he added to Shiv in a low voice.

He planted his hands on the table and took a deep breath, staring unseeing at the white cloth. As he drew his hands round in opposing swirls, an azure trace lingered on the linen like a memory of blue sky behind fine cloud. Usara lifted his hands to cup them before him, cradling a swelling ball of slate-blue magelight. The sphere grew, paling as it did so from slate through indigo to the faint gold-tinged colour of a summer evening sky. The eggshell blue washed over the wizards and disappeared beyond the confines of the room.

Shiv’s eyes were tight shut as he pressed his palms together, arms outstretched. He spread his fingers wide and turquoise brilliance netted his hands. Fleeting, like lightning from a clear sky, it was gone almost before it was seen. The mage frowned and new strands of light appeared but still no more substantial than a spider’s web reflecting moonlight. Shiv took a deep breath and the tracery of power strengthened to ultramarine. He drew his hands apart with infinite care and the strands of magelight thickened and twisted, threads snapping and rejoining, coiling and spiralling upwards. As the weave extended, it grew thinner, paler. It reached the window and fled.

“Is something supposed to be happening?”

’Gren’s interested voice rang out from the silver mirror.

“You tell me,” responded Sorgrad curtly.

Usara’s head dipped towards the table and Shiv scrubbed sweat from his forehead with the heel of his hand. “Shit!”

“So we flag down a cart after all?” Sorgrad’s mockery betrayed a trace of disappointment.

“It’s too far,” Usara gasped. “When we’re reaching outside our own affinities.”

“We nearly had them.” Shiv flexed his hands and scowled. “We should be able to manage one.”

“We go together or not at all, wizard.” Sorgrad’s muted voice was uncompromising.

Usara looked at Shiv. “We could do it with Larissa’s help.”

Shiv groaned. “You’re not serious?”

“Show me another way?” Usara brushed faint traces of power from his hands. “Besides asking the Imperial Despatch to pack Casuel in a crate and send him along?”

Shiv rubbed at his temples. “I don’t know who’d be more trouble.”

“We have to do something,” snapped Usara. “Or we may as well go back to Planir with our tails between our legs.”

“Larissa can help us bring them here.” Shiv sounded distinctly unenthusiastic. “That’ll give her some insight into combining affinities that she can wave in front of Kalion’s cronies. But we’re not taking her to Suthyfer, agreed?”

“I don’t know if you’re interested but I can barely see you.” Sorgrad’s chagrined voice was fading fast.

Usara gestured and the wavering spell rallied. “We need help from another mage to bring you here. Don’t go far and we’ll find you when we need you.”

“You don’t think we’ve got our own plans for the day?”

’Gren’s distant voice challenged mischievously. Sorgrad’s response was too muffled to be audible and then the bespeaking shattered into glittering fragments that sank away into the mirror’s reflection.

“Curse it!” Usara snuffed the candle with an angry hand.

“Come on.” Shiv was heading for the door. “They can’t have gone far.”

Pered and Larissa proved to be the only people in the wide room occupying most of the inn’s ground floor. Too big to be called a parlour, too salubrious to be merely a taproom, its well-scrubbed tables and ladder-backed chairs could offer comfortable intimacy for two as well as convivial circles for larger gatherings. Curtains fluttered at open windows as a fresh sea breeze scoured the scent of the previous night’s wine and revelry out of the corners. Larissa and Pered were sitting by the wide arch of the hearth, a tray on the table between them. Pered expertly measured herbs into a hinged sphere of silver mesh, snapped it shut and dropped it into a fine ceramic cup. “Tisane?” he offered as Shiv approached. “It’s a local blend, decent enough, if a bit heavy on the linden leaves.”

“Please.” Shiv took a seat. “Larissa.” He hesitated as an aproned maid brought a jug of hot water from the kettle hanging over the fire.