The next day, another courier from Averell came to the Shining Fish Inn to meet Ruyo and pick up the latest stick-pile. He also brought news. At Wellspring, a team of researchers had shown up from the westlands and been astonished to learn of a ruin that one of them had passed right by, along the road, years ago. Reading between the lines of the letter, the team leader was aggravated and kicking himself. He hadn't guessed there was a completely unknown and obscure ruin, buried in a hill, when finding it first might have meant attaining godhood.

"With foreknowledge like that he would've been a prophet already," Ruyo said. According to the monk who was living at the Wellspring cave, the westlanders weren't doing anything wicked but had been studying the site's upper level, with the monk's wary permission. He asked if there was a way to open the back door to the hidden area, and if he should try it.

She frowned. "So long as they're watched carefully I wouldn't mind, but I can't tell him that except by another slow letter back."

The monk's letter also said that ex-slaves from Sor's Hill had been dropping by to pick up food, but plenty was appearing. He warned that some of the visitors had tried to stay and he and the other guards had chased them off.

"Could be worse," Ruyo said.

Another letter had come from Averell, asking if she could handle an increase in food production and greater variety. Ruyo groaned. She told the courier, "No promises. I'll try. Here's better news for you..." She explained the capture of the cultists, and Starshore's decision today to send them, in chains, on the next ship.

"They're going to try a breakout, aren't they," said Nusina, popping into visibility. The courier startled.

"We should go along. Sir, how is the war going?"

The messenger looked around the private room and listened at the closed door before answering, in a low voice. "We've suffered some losses, but gave the northern thugs as good as we got. Our side seized two outlying villages already."

"Good start," Ruyo said.

"There's talk of maybe building a shrine out that way."

"That would be tricky. A simple one would let the soldiers pray usefully so long as they stay in one spot, but I'd need to go in person to activate it. And I doubt the troops want to build a fancy shrine on the front lines."

"Any other news I should take back with me?" asked the messenger.

"With the 'university' defeated, Nusina is planning to work with the survivors to invent a few things. She said something about a simple foot-powered vehicle that makes hiking easier. I'll believe that when I see it. Anyway, I'm probably going back with you on the same ship."

#

As it turned out, she didn't; the courier rushed back north on a small boat. Ruyo had other things keeping her in town. Several of the Inheritor cult members -- merely researchers now, they insisted -- came to Ruyo to ask for Nusina's advice.

Ruyo said, "You've got a lot of nerve."

One of the three humbly dressed figures bowed and said, "We apologize deeply to both of you for the harm our group caused. If you allow us to continue our work, we can accomplish something more positive. We'd like Nusina's technical aid and some bits of raw material from you, Ruyo."

"I'm willing to help," Nusina said.

Ruyo said silently, "Isn't that island outside your range?"

"It is, from here in town. They could rent a workshop here, or you'd have to come at least partway."

"May as well go all the way. I'd like to see that lower level without anyone trying to kill us. There won't be any of that this time, will there?"

"No, ma'am. Bring whatever guards you like."

#

Ruyo went first to the Tower of the Magi, an imposing spire five stories tall in the center of the bright white Kiln district. The mighty building had a few locals loitering outside. Ruyo was a little troubled that some of the streets she passed weren't as clean or lively as she remembered. She shook her head and entered through the sturdy iron door.

The Magus wasn't there to greet her. Instead a stooped-over young man with terrible acne waved her in. "I was told to give you a basic test. Is it true you've got unique powers? I'd love to hear about them!"

"It's true," she said.

"Can... can I see?"

A man in a yellow robe came downstairs to the lobby. "Oh, you must be the lady of mystery. Did you want a tour?"

"There's a test first, right?"

"Eh. You're in. It's more to see how much you know of the theory."

"I'd like to know, myself." She turned back to the desk where the secretary had retreated, and slowly summoned a sheaf of blank paper. It was tricky getting the stuff to appear in pieces instead of one vast sheet, but she'd had practice with the making of multiple bread-loaves at once. She set them down and grinned.

The clerk looked elated. "Nice! Here; trade you." He handed over a single sheet with questions on it. "Please fill this out over at the table." A quill and inkwell sat on the lobby's table.

The yellow mage snorted. "I'll come back."

Ruyo sat down and played with the inkwell. It was a good, slightly enchanted one that needed refilling but wouldn't dry out. Ink was yet another thing she should learn to create. For now, though, there was a test! The first question was about how casting a common earth-making spell repeatedly would affect the caster and the area around him.

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From what she understood, mana was like breathable air: trapped in one place, it could be temporarily exhausted and useless. Casting again and again in one spot would drain some mix of the mana in the caster's body and in the surroundings. To some extent mana could flow from places of freshness to exhaustion. Her professors had scared her with the thought experiment of a villain creating a magical top that would waste mana in one area, draw it in from everywhere else, and drain the whole world. Supposedly that flow would be slow enough that someone could go and smite the evil toymaker and his creation.

A logical side effect of mana exhaustion was that enchanting a fixed location was hard. A wall with a mighty fire effect, constantly on, would drain its surroundings and burn out. It was easier to make a flaming sword that turned on and off, which would recharge from the person wielding it and from the places it went. Some master mages were good at choosing which power source to draw on and could interfere with their enemies' casting that way.

Ruyo was able to scribble an answer based on the theory. The topic had come up in her training because Lost World relics broke the rules. Wellspring held a powerful enchantment in a fixed spot, and it was powered by prayer instead of normal mana. The new shrines were like enchantments too. The hospital ruin had a lightning-powered system of wires and artificial lights throughout the building to power wondrous devices. Then there'd been that music player that ran on mana. That one was easy to explain because it was a low-power device, barely functioning in its forsaken spot and easy to reactivate by fueling it with personal mana. Ruyo tapped the quill against her cheek and simply added, "I know of exceptions."

The other questions were a mixed bag. A few involved details of other elements she'd never used for herself, or a technique she'd barely heard of. She answered a set of questions about the lifting of objects against gravity, the creation of matter from nothing (she added an asterisk and a note), and practical uses of common magic items. The reminder that self-filling canteens existed just like self-lighting candles, made her granting of basic water magic feel less special. Ah well; it was better to give someone an innate power than a tool to imitate one. Her way was more versatile too.

Ruyo stretched and handed the paper over to the secretary. He skimmed the answers and noticed her side notes. "Exceptions like what?"

They started talking. He was enthusiastic about the idea of new discoveries, but when she asked what his own specialty was, he blushed. "Ah, none. I don't have the talent. But I work the desk and study theory and get to use some of the magic tools. So I'm involved, anyway!"

This was exactly the sort of person she could help most. For now she just said, "Nice." She wanted now to hold off on more promises until she could fulfill them.

The yellow mage returned and took the quiz sheet. He spent a few minutes reading and said, "Better than I expected. We can definitely teach you some things though."

"Of course." She waved goodbye to the secretary and let herself get led away on a tour.

They had both a staircase and an elevator, the latter powered mainly by the user's own magic instead of ropes. "Can everyone use this?" she asked, feeling new appreciation for the difficulty of building it.

"With basic magic talent and training, yes."

She took his word for it and only watched, not eager to test herself on a rising and falling platform. The mage made it look easy though. From the ground floor, she went up through office space to a set of workshops for the professionals. Several workers were on duty, producing a common type of breeze-stirring charm popular on hot days in the north. She should buy some for the next trip.

"I'm interested in improving my enchantment skill."

"In what way?"

"Efficiency, for one thing, so I don't run low on mana. But also the speed of getting it done, and the amount of the output." She talked a bit about the technical details.

He looked impressed. "You could probably fit in with our junior enchanters. We've been wanting to meet that spirit companion of yours, though; where is that?"

"She's experimenting with staying a long distance from me while exploring the city." That, and she'd been uneasy about being studied by the Order of Magi -- because they'd been evasive about two or three "former" members with ties to the Inheritors.

"Another time, then. We're mainly here to sign you up." They passed a library and arrived at the top floor, half of which was the Magus' office. This was no luxury room. The large chamber was another workshop. A pair of brightly-plumed parrots from the northern jungles squawked in one corner, shredding bits of cork to amuse themselves. In the room's center was a runic circle inlaid with mother-of-pearl, currently empty. The room smelled of roses, honey and feathers.

The Magus was running her fingers through flowers in a window box. With her hood thrown back she seemed less formal here, and her long grey hair spilled along her shoulders. "Good to see you, miss Ruyo. Cerek, how did she do?"

The yellow-robed mage handed her the test sheet. "As expected. She's largely ignorant of three elements but has good practical experience and a little training."

The Magus frowned at Ruyo's handwriting and asked a few questions. "That seems accurate. Can you tell me about these exceptions and side-notes, ma'am? Oh, have a seat." Her desk had several guest chairs.

Ruyo fell into technical discussion with her and the other mage. They were of course far more knowledgeable than her about the theory of magic and most of the practice. When Ruyo discussed the lightning-based equipment in the ruin, the Magus nodded. "We call it 'electricity', but yes. We've seen a few examples of working ancient technology, and don't generally muddy the waters by discussing them in basic classes. Best to teach a simplified, somewhat inaccurate theory first before getting into the stranger truth."

"If you know about that, then why aren't we all using this... electricity?"

"Infrastructure. It would take massive effort to create enough of it to be useful, we don't know how to make all of the materials, and much of the theory behind it all still eludes us."

The other wizard added, "And there isn't much urgent need for it. When you can light up a building with simple spells, why build expensive machines to do it?"

The Magus said, "And then there's that item creation power of yours. It ought to be completely impossible. May I see you do that? The Council demonstration was... well, we were all distracted and a bit shocked."

The yellow one said, "Oh, Magus! The circle. Do you suppose it'd help her?"

"I have no idea." She pointed to the design on the floor and said, "Miss, have you used such a thing before?"

"I saw something like it in a workshop I visited, but it was described as being for advanced work." She stepped into it and tried to sense how it affected the magic around her. Sort of organized differently, as though the air itself had been piled up and divided into packets for easy use.

She tried to conjure some bread, but felt dizzy. "Whoa, careful," the yellow mage said.

Ruyo shook her head. "Too advanced for me, I think."

"If you were doing one of your unique spells, it might not be quite compatible. Step out of there and show us."

She did, making another sheaf of paper. The Magus nodded. "Fascinating. Again, please? Hmm. Besides restocking our office supplies, that gives me a few ideas. It might help you if you prepared a simple circle for your enchantment work." They talked about designs Ruyo might be able to set up for herself, though it'd take some experimenting.

The Magus said, "Now, will you pledge to work with the Order? To seek continual improvement, to use magic responsibly, to offer reasonable aid to your guildmates, and to share your knowledge?"

"Magic!" squawked one of the parrots.

She was conspicuously avoiding a formal induction ceremony, slipping a version of their oath into conversation. Ruyo suspected the Order wasn't entirely unified on letting the upstart goddess in. She wanted their support, though, and was willing to play along with the Magus. "I agree," Ruyo said.

"Excellent. Welcome to the Order."