GALCENIAN DATING 976 A.F. ENTIBORAN REGNAL YEAR 3 PERADA HAVE YOU found what you’re looking for?” Mistress Vasari couldn’t keep the relief out of her voice. She and Errec Ransome had been walking in the rain and mist for some hours, ever since leaving the gate at the landing field. She wasn’t lost, in the general sense—she’d lived in the capital long enough by now to have some feel for the local geography—but she had no idea where they were going. Errec had chosen the route, without bothering to explain how or why, and she had gone with him. They’d come at last to a grubby business and light-manufacturing district, somewhere in the outskirts of greater An-Jemayne. Business hours had ended, but full dark was still almost an hour away. Already, though, everything looked drab and greyed out. The streetlamps hadn’t yet flicked on, and buildings on all sides blocked most of the light. And here Errec Ransome had, finally, stopped. “There are Mages here,” he said. “There are Mages all over An-Jemayne, Errec.
