Master Brin had hired two men for the afternoon. He was not pleased to find three people standing where they meant to work.
“The wall,” he said, pointing past Rowan. “Not the garden. They know which stones they’re taking out.”
“I’m looking at the working beneath them.”
“I’ve been looking at it all morning.”
He stood with his arms folded while Bren cleared a little soil from the foot of the wall. An older man knelt beside him, his weathered hands resting lightly on the exposed stone. Rowan knew the name from Vessa’s list, and the face from station visits years before. Olan had greeted him by name when Phia brought him down the lane.
They had spent the morning following the return below Rell’s mill. It passed beneath the lower field and came back toward the houses, instead of joining the field course. Phia met them after midday with Olan, who remembered the mill before its outlet had been altered. He knew enough of the older arrangement to lead them here. The deeper course remained beyond Rowan’s reading, but the nearer connection seated beneath Brin’s garden wall.
Behind it, the masonry had begun leaning toward the bed. Brin wanted the loose part rebuilt while the men were available. He had told Bren when they would come, and Bren had arranged to hold the household reach while they worked.
Farther along the lane, another warden was waiting beside a picket whose worn cut needed renewing. Rowan could see him through the open gate, with a cloth spread beneath his tools. The two jobs had been put into different accounts.
Olan lifted his hands from the stone.
“Not both together.”
Bren turned. “You can follow it between them?”
“This takes the deeper course. The picket brings a reach back from it.” He looked toward the lane. “Leave one seated while you work on the other.”
Rowan crouched on the opposite side. With ash at his palm, he could distinguish the fine return beneath the root of the wall. It held between the deeper binding and the picket beyond the gate. He followed it carefully, stopping before the contact drew him into ground he could not read. Olan had found the part that carried beneath it.
“I’ll speak to him,” Rowan said.
“He’s been here since before you came,” Brin told him. “My men have another house after this.”
“Then I need to know how long his work will take.”
He went to the lane. The waiting warden rose from his tools and offered his hand.
“Tavin. I’ve met Bren. You’re Rowan?”
“Yes. How much are you changing?”
“The worn cut. Same course, if the reading stays where I found it.” He showed the prepared piece beside the old picket. “Once it seats, I can leave this until next week.”
“Can you give us the wall first? Olan finds both reaching through the same connection.”
The man looked across to the garden. “I’ve people waiting down the next lane. If I put this away, I won’t come back today.”
“How long would you need?”
“I won’t promise it from here. I’ve read the near end. The other is through there.”
He indicated a narrow entrance behind Rowan. It had been drawn as a gap between buildings, without a name beside it. A woman had just come out carrying a folded blanket. She held the door with her shoulder while someone inside gave her a basket.
Rowan moved clear.
“Who uses this?”
“Del. Two rooms through the yard.”
He looked at the open door again. The woman had the basket on her arm now, with the blanket folded over it. Someone spoke from within and she paused to answer.
“I’ll go in before we decide.”
He passed through a small yard. Del stood at the farther door, listening to a man seated on a bench. He was thinner than Rowan remembered, with a quiet voice that made him move nearer rather than speak louder. The man finished his account and Del nodded toward the room.
“Go through. I’ll come in a moment.”
He watched the man rise, then turned to Rowan.
“From Cresting?”
“I’m posted here now. We’re examining the picket outside.”
“Good. I sent word about it.”
Rowan glanced toward the second room. A woman waited there with one hand closed around the arm of her chair.
“How many people are you expecting this afternoon?”
“Three more. One will need someone beside him.”
“Will they come through the lane?”
“Usually. There’s a way from the back, but it’s narrower.” Del looked toward the yard entrance. “Were you going to close it?”
“Not until we’ve spoken. The wall next door needs work too. We’ve found a connection they share.”
Del remained beside the door. “The picket answers less clearly than it did. I’d like it attended to. But I’ve told those people where to find me.”
“Can someone reach them before they leave?”
“Two. The third may already be on the way.”
Rowan could hold the fine reach while Tavin renewed the cut. Opening the wall at the same time would put the older connection at risk.
“Give me a little time,” he said. “We may be able to keep this entrance without putting the work off.”
Del nodded. “Tell me what you intend before anyone changes it.”
When Rowan returned, Brin’s men had arrived. One was setting down a small bar inside the garden while the other looked at the loose masonry. Bren stood beside the exposed stone. Phia had remained at the gate, with the drawing turned against the wall where the wind could not reach it.
Another woman stood beside her, bent over a cane. Shawls in deep purple and moss-green lay across her shoulders. She looked up as Rowan approached, and the violet of her eyes brought Vessa’s page suddenly to mind.
“High Priestess.”
He stopped before offering a hand she might not want to take. She inclined her head.
“You’re Vessa’s warden.”
“Rowan.”
“Yes. Phia’s told me what you came down to find.” She looked toward Olan. “What have you found here?”
“They’re joined below the wall,” Olan said. “I can hold the deeper part. I wouldn’t open both of these.”
“Nor would I.”
Heticiaca turned to Brin, who had been waiting with the bar now in his own hand.
“You’ve brought people to do it properly, I see.”
“I brought them to do it today, Hetti.”
“That is a useful addition.”
One of the men smiled down at the stones. Brin gave him a look, then set the bar against the wall.
Rowan showed them where the picket’s reach turned toward Del’s entrance. Phia had followed it from the lane; she brought the drawing round so Olan could place it beside the deeper course.
“Those rooms weren’t there when I last worked this,” Olan said.
“The rooms were,” Brin told him. “The entrance wasn’t.”
Heticiaca tapped the cane once beside her foot. “Del took them when the former tenant left. He began using the yard because there was room to wait.”
Rowan added the yard behind the entrance. The working had been kept; the way people approached it had changed.
“Del has people coming,” he said. “One may be on the way. I don’t want someone walking him round the back only to find it too narrow.”
Bren looked at the stones the men would remove. “We can keep this seated until he’s through.”
“And the rest?” Brin asked. “I can wait for one man. I can’t keep these two here all afternoon.”
Rowan looked along the wall. Its loose part was short, but the men would have to take it back far enough to find sound masonry. The anchor lay beneath the end they meant to keep. With Olan holding the deeper course, Rowan could carry the fine joining around the exposed edge while Bren stayed at the lane. The picket would remain seated until the stonework was safe again.
He asked the men how they meant to begin. They showed him the end of the loose section and the stones they would leave. He moved nearer to examine the point where their bar would enter, then brought Olan beside him.
“If they begin here, can you hold it while I keep this clear?”
Olan took a reading before answering. “Yes. Provided you don’t draw it toward the garden.”
“I won’t.”
“Then let them begin.”
Rowan turned to Tavin. “We’ll leave your picket in until the wall is seated. Can Bren come with you to the next houses while we finish here?”
The man considered him. “He knows that reach.”
“We walked part of it yesterday,” Bren said. “I can help.”
“If we can be back before the light goes.”
Rowan looked at Del’s entrance. “We’ll have it ready for you. If the wall takes longer, I’ll send word rather than leave you waiting.”
The household farther out had not been promised a day. The people here had. Rowan moved his own walk.
He went to Del with the arrangement. The entrance would remain held. Bren would stay until the traveler arrived, and if the stonework changed what they expected, they would stop before altering the course. Del listened, then came out far enough to examine the lane himself.
“I can tell the other two to come later,” he said. “They may prefer it to sitting through the noise.”
“Thank you.”
Del looked toward the garden. “Ask Brin not to supervise from my doorway. He did that last time.”
When Rowan passed the message on, Brin took a step away from the gate.
“I was keeping it clear.”
“He’d like it kept clear from this side.”
Phia smiled without looking up from the page. Heticiaca had moved to the shade against the house. She watched the first man lift a loose stone, then looked at Rowan’s hand.
Rowan brought the moonlight into a fine hold while Olan kept the deeper course seated. At the farther end, Phia drew water from the damp soil into a bright line above her palm. The return rippled through it; she moved her hand until its movement steadied with Rowan’s hold. Across the lane, Del’s door remained open. As the loose stones came away, one of the men reached with his bar toward the prepared edge. Rowan stopped him.
“From above. That part stays.”
The man changed his grip. They waited while the masonry was put back, Brin carrying the sound pieces to the men. A traveler came slowly through the lane with someone holding his arm. Bren met them at the gate and stayed clear while they crossed to Del’s yard. The woman with the blanket took the man’s free hand at the entrance. Tavin kept the prepared picket covered; nothing there had been opened.
When the last sound stone was seated, Rowan eased his hold. The fine joining remained in its course, and Olan checked that it would carry while the men finished above. Rowan opened his fingers slowly. The stiffness eased as he rubbed the ash away, though not completely.
Bren was already waiting with Tavin. They went to the adjoining houses while the two men finished the wall. Rowan stayed long enough to read the repaired reach from the lane, then returned the household drawing to Brin.
“There’s a yard missing,” he said. “I’ve put it in.”
Brin looked at the added entrance. “Del’s been there for years.”
“I know that now.”
“He’ll be glad to hear it.”
Heticiaca rose from the shade. Rowan moved the loose stones out of her way rather than offer to take the cane. At the gate she stopped beside him.
“You’ve sent Bren to someone else’s work.”
“He knows the reach. He agreed.”
“I heard him. Did you tell Thane?”
“I’ll send the changed arrangement before I leave.”
“Good.” She looked toward Del’s entrance. “I would rather people knew whose door to knock on than found three of us all believing someone else had told them.”
“Has that happened?”
“You’ll have time to learn our accomplishments.”
She went down the lane with Phia, stopping beyond the turn to speak to someone Rowan could not see. Their voices carried back briefly, then faded. He wrote the change for Thane and asked Brin’s second man to leave it at the room when he collected the bar they needed for their next house.
The wardens returned while there was still good light. Their next-house reading had required only a small correction to the account. Bren put it aside and went to the picket with Rowan.
This time they had the shared course in front of them. Olan’s reading lay beside their marks at the wall; Phia’s gave the return to Del’s yard. Tavin worked on the worn cut while Bren followed its nearer reach. Rowan kept the fine connection steady until the renewed edge could take it.
They released in turn. The response reached both the garden and the entrance without losing the return between them. Del came to the yard door when they called. He took a reading there, waited, then nodded.
“Clearer. Thank you.”
He went back inside before they put away the tools.
Bren took the first copy to Thane. Rowan remained in the lane while the last of the wall was tidied. Brin stood at the gate inspecting the new masonry, arms folded again.
“Will you need to come back?”
“To follow the ground beyond it. You needn’t wait to use the garden.”
Brin opened the gate wider and carried a basket through. From Del’s yard came the scrape of a chair and a voice asking whether there was room beside the window.
Rowan put their doors onto the same sheet before folding it. A little later, when he spread it against Thane’s wall, Bren was able to follow the connection without turning the paper twice. Thane moved a smaller account out of its way.
“You changed the order.”
“Both jobs were arranged. Neither could see what the other opened.”
“And Del?”
“Kept his entrance. Two people came later, and one came through while we held the wall.”
Thane read the names beneath the work, then pinned the changed arrangement beside it. “I’ll know where to send them next time.”
Rowan put Del’s entrance opposite Brin’s gate on the larger drawing.
Before he finished, someone came to the door asking where the wardens had gone. Bren rose to answer. Rowan turned the new sheet toward them, and the woman put her finger beside Del’s yard.
“This one?”
“That’s it,” Bren said. “He’s there now.”
She thanked him and went down the lane. Rowan watched her take the right turn without stopping at Brin’s gate.