Mid-afternoon was the perfect time to initiate such a complicated and dangerous bit of magic. It wasn’t so easy to clear off tasks that had already been scheduled for morning, but at mid-afternoon even Kordas could be expected to take a break for a moment or two to himself. Mid-afternoon was the time when the highest amount of traffic would be passing through existing Gates, mid-afternoon was when most mages were deeply involved in projects of their own or the Emperor’s, and would not necessarily notice something going on elsewhere, and mid-afternoon was when the Emperor himself was most likely deeply engrossed in the business of the Empire. Night—now, night would have been a terrible choice. Not to mention that if Delia was going to Fetch something from the other side of the Portal Jonaton would create, she needed to be able to see what was on the other side.

So, just after lunch, one by one, all the interested parties made their way to what had once been the walls of the previous manor, and were now a series of artificial “ruins” in a garden.

Accessed by three hidden doors were two staircases and a ramp down into what had been the cellars of the previous manor, which were connected to the current manor via a fourth passage that ran beneath the Circle’s tower.

As Hakkon stood watch, Kordas went to a part of the ruins he was known for using as a place to read or even snatch a clandestine nap—a cool little grotto with a smooth stone bench that curved to fit his back admirably, and just happened to have a stone that lifted up to reveal the stair down. He disposed himself on the bench until Hakkon gave a soft whistle, signaling that there was no one watching, and slipped down the stair, dropping the stone in place behind himself.

By the time he got to the cellars, Delia, Isla, the entire Circle, and Jonaton were already there, waiting impatiently, among all sorts of small cats.

By design there was absolutely nothing down here that could have been connected with a magical workspace—not until and unless someone who had been keyed to the place entered it. Then the walls, floors, and ceiling glowed with diagrams, runes, and wards, until you almost didn’t need mage-lights to see by.

Each of the seven cellars served a different purpose. The one Kordas entered now was marked “Seeds—Hard Grain—Preserved Nuts”—the least interesting stores a prowler would want a look into, but a logical place to find mousers hanging about. It had been designated from the beginning for the use of whatever mage or mages were going to make that all-important first small Gate into the unknown.

“Well, you took your time,” Isla chided. “I thought Jonaton was going to split himself in two, he’s been vibrating so hard.”