As the newcomers gaped at the giant shadow cat, the islanders grinned. "We tamed this one."

The priest said, "It's an abomination!"

"It kills ghosts. We'll leave it alone for now."

"But that's... how can that be?"

Arlen explained, "Look closely. There's an actual cat inside it, somehow."

The outsiders stared, muttering in confusion. Alfons still prayed.

He also studied the warded wall, and this pleased him. "This is a version of a proper holy symbol. It's as though the gods have spoken to you indirectly, to guide you."

Arlen didn't answer. The islanders said, "Our spirits gave us the idea."

"Then whatever they gave you is flawed. Look; here is a better way." He drew a more complex design, abstract and reminding Arlen of the circuit-like tracings in Builder ruins.

The locals studied it, uncertain. When Alfons turned to Arlen again he said, "You should have them build this and bless it properly."

"It's not my place to decide that."

"But you are war leader."

He'd been steadfastly punting on the topic of Mariv religion. As a double outsider he knew that the island spirits had some kind of reality, but had never felt moved to pray to them as more than a transaction of advice and magic and promises. Now, the preacher wanted to use him to push an entire belief system to which Arlen was indifferent. To say nothing in response was an answer in itself.

Arlen said, "There's much to learn. Come along and see what else there is on this island, so that we better understand one another."

#

The next morning they marched. A party of eight armed sailors plus Alfons and Huygens joined Arlen and nine locals. Even the Walker was hanging back today from the sense of undirected hostility in the forest, though it did follow the expedition as though not really interested. "Stay close," Arlen said, and set out through the fog.

They began passing the markers and shelters of the outer perimeter. "He made these?" whispered one sailor, but he got shushed.

The captain spoke up. "No, I want to hear. Arlen, tell us at last. What can you do, exactly?"

In the distance, a few of the groaning undead drifted along the ground. Some wild animal squealed as it fled or died out there. Probably the former; the wildlife mostly seemed to be left alone.

Arlen beckoned everyone onward to the next shelter a hundred yards off. "Watch. Be ready to fight." He stamped the ground and made it rumble and rise, rapidly creating exposed stone that began as a patio next to the little building. He started work on walls for it. He'd gotten faster with practice and the patterns given to him by Sachin. The air chilled with manipulated energy, adding to the ever-present fog.

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When the walls were two feet high, mere seconds later, the captain exclaimed, "How!"

The priest was watching, studying. "Captain, it's like the legend."

The islanders raised their spears and warned, "They're coming."

Dozens of the ghosts drifted closer, drawn as usual by living men but maybe by the magic too. Arlen dropped his spell, gauged the distance, and began ripping into them from below. Stone spears erupted and tore up plasmic flesh. The sailors feared this too, but the spearmen shouted at them to keep ready.

Half of the swarm shifted paths and evaded Arlen's strikes. The iron-tipped spears and metal swords came into play now. Arlen kept attacking in a more scattershot fashion now that there wasn't a single easy mass to break. In a frantic minute of shouts and slashing, the swarm had faded into nothing.

A soldier clutched his arm where he'd been gashed by phantom claws. "They were cold!"

The priest tended to him and the few others who'd had significant wounds. Huygens waved off an offer of treatment from Arlen for a minor scrape, and said, "So you really have been holding back in front of us. How do you have this much power?"

Alfons said, "I'm more concerned with those monsters! Those looked like soldiers. Did you see those hints of uniform? It's like the old carvings, of them and the Enemy."

"Let's focus on the present. Arlen, how did you do that?"

"I won't say, for now. But I can help you with construction, repair, and battle. If you'll cooperate with my people in return."

The captain stroked his chin. Arlen's answer implied that there was a way to get such power for himself, and there was a chance it was even true. Better for the islanders to hold out on any secret they had until there were clear friendly relations; better for the Marivs to squeeze every advantage for themselves. Huygens finally said, "Then we will continue to explore."

"Here? Today? It sounds like there are many more ghosts."

Singer Alfons said, "Captain, I want to visit their spirits' supposed home. Gull Crater. Your team can gain experience in defense against the ghosts here while I make that side trip."

"I need you here on healer duty."

"In the name of the Holy Church, this is important. You'll survive here, especially if you let the locals guide you. Maybe you can talk them into redoing their warding wall."

Arlen wondered at their true chain of command and suspected they weren't sure of it themselves. But Huygens said, "Fine. Learn what you can. I assume you'll take him there, Arlen?"

"I will. But after a brief trip to the Mire."

#

Alfons had grown to enjoy the small, responsive sailboats of the islanders. He joined in with the work of the few other islander sailor, asking to work the sail or the tiller for a while. "You know, there are better ways to build a sail."

Arlen laughed. "I've said so myself. I've been so very busy lately, I haven't had time to try it."

They were heading for the Mire to create more of the drug. Early tests of it showed it to be useful, so that the inevitable spread of the plague would continue being managed well.

The priest said, "We saw you somehow harvesting that concoction from the foul water. So you can make things beside stone. What else do you make?"

"Iron. Maybe other things I don't know yet. In fact, watch."

He paused to dive overboard and create a tiny island in minutes.

Even having seen the fortification work, Alfons marveled. "A port, from nothing! And these other structures I've seen were your work too!"

"Easiest in shallow water." He then transmuted a chunk of the new pillar-island into pure iron.

Alfons whistled. "You are truly blessed."

The trip took unusually long due to the Mire detour, where Arlen took three borrowed wooden casks and used the tainted water to produce more medicine. Alfons watched the process enviously. "But how do you know how to make this specific drug? You only did this after visiting the Mire ruins."

He didn't have a great answer to that without revealing the existence of Sachin, who wouldn't trust them. "I'm sorry, but we still don't completely trust you. I won't lie but I won't tell you everything yet."

The preacher was frustrated, but seemed to accept that for now.