The size of the guest room was immense, giving the impression of greater vertical height than width, which in turn gave the feeling that if one looked up and up, the ceiling would never be seen. The bed on which Dyne sat seemed dwarfed by the size of the walls around it, one of which was covered by a heavy velvet curtain. Ghaleon stood by it, raising one flap so he could peer through the many-paned window beyond.
"Geez," said Dyne. "I thought that when we got to Vane, it'd be full of people with ears like yours."
If Ghaleon heard him, he gave no indication. His face was raised in an unusually childlike expression of wonder.
"Hey, that reminds me," added Dyne. "We never got that girl's name. Everything seemed so rushed..."
Ghaleon pulled aside the curtain with one hand, never taking his eyes from the sight they beheld. "Look," he said.
And Dyne did. Beyond the manor grounds was a rugged hill of stone, wild and untamed, yet all the more beautiful because of it. Buildings shaped as cylinders and towers rose up from the ground, capped by rounded domes unlike anything in Vane's modern architecture. They were ruins, ancient ruins, but a whole city of them and remarkably intact.
Dyne face exploded into a cascade of joy. "Cool! The ruins!"
Ghaleon visibly wilted as he pointed at what he really meant to show Dyne. "Look at the sky. Last night's storm... It's coming back."
The darkened skies roiled menacingly in the grey atmosphere beyond the mountain of ruins. The blue skies near Vane were already in full retreat from the piling clouds. Ghaleon was not the only one to notice the storm either. Lemia had already arranged a meeting with the various aides and staff of the magic guild; all who were available. They were young, and it looked more like a meeting of apprentices than that of wizards, but there was no other choice. They were running out of time and Lemia was running out of patience.
"Judging from the wind, I'd say we have until about tomorrow afternoon." It was a reasonable assessment, coming from one of the most level headed of the group.
"That ship cannot withstand a second storm," added a second, a blond woman with hair that curled lightly around her face.
A third folded his arms across his chest and a dour look crossed his young face. "It shoulda just been left in the museum," he said.
The man across from him unrolled several sheets of documentation on the table in front of him. "I am concerned about how much energy the ship has remaining." He pointed at a diagram of the flower-shaped array of lamps indicating the amount of power left in the airship. "If it should reach zero, the life support systems will shut down. We cannot guarantee the safety of the lives of those on board."
Another aide turned his head, suspicion etched into his very motion. "Hold on. Are you suggesting we actually rebuild the magic amplifier using these worm-eaten plans? They're probably even older relics than the ship! You can't make this thing work, no matter how hard you try!"
"If worse comes to worst," said one, the same who had shooed away the children, "we could all pool our magic power..."
The group started as they say Lemia move, her first motion since she had placed her hands on the table and remained standing as the meeting began. Her eyes to fiery lights as she said, "I'll do it. We must work to the limit of our abilities and devote all our resources to this. Now, give this your best effort."
The aides got up to leave. One of them, the dour faced young man, bumped into Dyne has he opened the door. Dyne, equally surprised, managed to let out an "Oops," before the aide restored his composure. The aide slammed the door shut behind Dyne and fixed him with a glare that expressly told the already chagrined man that he was not supposed to be here.
"Since when have you been here?" demanded Lemia. She strode towards him with furious steps.
Dyne glanced at the anxious and angry faces around him and didn't even attempt a wittier reply. "Since 'judging from the wind'..." he admitted.
"And your companion?"
"Drinking tea in his room."
One of the aides glanced over his shoulder at Lemia behind him. "What should we do, Deputy?"
Lemia's features softened and she raised a closed hand to her face, unable to reply. Something in her eyes reflected a sort of sadness, perhaps something brought forth by the pall over the room.
"I'd like to repay you somehow for putting us up for the night," said Dyne, rubbing the back of his head as he realized he was no longer in danger of being magicked to death or some greater evil. "Um, I could do some manual labor for you or something... I really don't know how to repay you. Is there any way I can help you?"
An aide, a tired young man who had not participated in the prior discussion, replied, "Yes, in fact. Tell us how you came to Vane."
Dyne looked at him in surprise. "How?"
He and Ghaleon had simply been standing on the grasslands below Vane. Ghaleon had found this stone circle with a star carved into it amid a ring of rocky pillars. It was very much like the place they had appeared in when they arrived in Vane. Dyne had looked at the place with a sense of joy and appreciation, but Ghaleon examined it for something far more specific.
"That sorcerer should not have been able to unseal the gate!" said one of the female aides in reaction to his story. "He must have found the switch!"
Dyne supposed that Ghaleon did find a switch of sorts. He had placed his hand against one of the stone pillars, a rather short thing, for a stone pillar anyway, about the height of a man. Ghaleon pressed his thumb against a rectangular shape and a small click had sounded. Two blocks of stone shot out from the column, unfolded even, and Ghaleon told Dyne, "Lift up this pillar."
Dyne did, there was no reason not to, and he saw a bunch of little stone switches in the hole the pillar had vacated. Ghaleon knelt and fiddled with them, did something , and finally stood up and told his friend, "That's it. The gate should work properly now."
Lemia's aides looked incredulous. "How?" one of them stammered.
Then the group of them erupted into a torrent of discussion.
"It's impossible to unseal that gate! Teacher told me so!"
"And certainly not manually, besides!"
"There was a switch on that pillar?"
"Why wasn't I told about it!?"
Dyne blinked at the lot of them, now feeling thoroughly ignored. He went from barbecue to tomorrow night's leftovers.
Away from the bustle of the meeting room, Ghaleon had pinned back the curtain and pulled up an armchair before the large multi-paned window. He crossed one leg over the other and rested his elbow on the right armrest as he rested his face against his head. Ghaleon smiled to himself, completely at peace within the sight of the city beyond. "Some ruins..." he said.
Dyne found himself walking down a hallway with Lemia and a gaggle of aides in tow. He rubbed his head, nodding thoughtfully as Lemia advised him that, "The residents have not yet been informed of the airship accident. You cannot leak any word of this to them. Understand?"
She shot him a look so vicious that all he could mutter was a staggering "Y- Yes..."
One of the aides steered Dyne's attention to a framed map she held in her hands. "A storm threw the ship off-course and lodged it in that box canyon. It can't get out. We're planning to use a lightning spell to destroy the obstructions trapping it and a wind spell to blow the ship out."
Dyne's mind reeled. How they would do that flew right over his head. "Magic is really powerful stuff..." You can do so much cool stuff with it...
The two female aides near him giggled. "Airhead," whispered one.
The other pulled her eyes away from the map and smiled at Dyne. "If we fix the magic amplification device, it should be able to do this!"
Dyne pointed at himself, a sudden thought brewing in his head. "You want me to fix it?"
The answer was a resounding "No!" from the lungs of three different aides. Lemia hung her head in disbelief.
They arrived at the guest room and Dyne walked up behind Ghaleon to explain the situation to him, but the white-haired man remained sitting in his armchair, back towards the magic users of Vane. His head was tilted to one side, no doubt gazing at the ruins in the distance, but only that and the tips of his pointed ears could the magicians see.
"I decline," he said.
"What?" asked Dyne. His shoulders sagged in disbelief. "What is your problem?"
"This has nothing to do with me," he replied, still resting a cheek on his curled hand. "The problem lies with the girl."
"Please..." said Lemia, her face now downcast like a child rather than the mask of a deputy guildmistress.
Dyne put his hands on his hips, teeth clenched together in rare irritation. "C'mon! If you save the ship, I'll do anything you want!"
Ghaleon moved his hand down to the armrest, tapping its edge with one finger. "Anything?"
Dyne cringed, visions of textbooks and arcane equations dancing in his head.
"Deputy," said Ghaleon, his voice firm and unforgiving. Lemia's eyes widened. "I will not ask you a third time. Who is riding in the airship?"
"The real guildmistress and the council," she said, standing straight as she prepared herself to accept any words the white-haired man would inflict. "Thirty-eight people in all."
Ghaleon considered her words, and perhaps a touch of emotion came to his eyes.