Maya had no idea how to requisition equipment, actually. The few times she’d been to the Forge, Jaedia had handled it. But she was plagued if she was going to ask him. Instead she gave another bow, as shallow as she could manage without giving offense. Tanax waved in dismissal, and Maya turned on her heel.

This is going to be harder than I thought. Her hand kept straying toward the hilt of her haken. How much trouble would I be in if I lit him on fire just a little?

*

The quartermasters’ office and storerooms were on one of the lower levels of the Forge, along with the archive and various libraries. A vast central rotunda covered in a checkerboard pattern of tables served as a working space. Like the rest of the Forge, it was much larger than it needed to be, and the few lonely arcanists and servants reading or copying out of tomes were separated by acres of empty seats.

Maya spotted Varo and Beq, sitting together at a table, with a map and sheets of foolscap spread in front of them. She threaded her way to them, doing her best not to show her nerves. She’d never been down here before, and the vast, chilly space had a forbidding air.

“Ah. It’s Varo, right?” she said. “And Bequaria?”

“Agathios,” Varo said, inclining his head.

Beq frowned at her, touching the dials on her golden spectacles. Lenses shifted, magnifying her eyes. “Agathios,” she said after a moment.

There was a long pause.

“Did you require something?” Varo said. His voice was cold.

“I …” Maya looked down at the table and felt a spike of stubborn pride. “No, I’m sure you’re busy. Carry on.”

Varo immediately turned and started peering at the map. Beq watched Maya for a few moments longer, then turned away as well, shaking her head.

What did I plaguing do to them? First Tanax, and now these two. This is not going to be a pleasant expedition. Maya turned, spotted the sign for the quartermasters’ office, and stalked across the marble. I just need a few bits of camping gear. It can’t be that difficult.

Five minutes later, she was back, all thoughts of pride forgotten.

“Scout-Trainee Varo?”

He looked up, eyes narrowed, voice polite. “Yes, Agathios?”

Maya heaved a sigh. “Please help me. I have no idea what I’m doing.”

Varo glanced at Beq, and conflicting expressions flitted across his face. Finally he gestured at an empty chair. “Have a seat.”

Maya shuffled gratefully around the table. She set down the catalog the bored clerk at the quartermasters’ office had handed her, an enormous tome considerably thicker than the Inheritance. At the sight of it, Varo laughed out loud.

“Glad to see they’re giving you the full treatment,” he said. “At least some of the old traditions of the Order are being kept up.”