When Rath came to, Wy was sitting in a chair beside him, reading a book. An adolescent girl in Monitor clothing, termed a maid in their culture, sat beside Wy doing the same.

As before, they were in the Festival Chamber and again Rath was laid out upon an improvised, not uncomfortable bed atop one of the tables.

Wy put her book in her lap and told the maid, “Lhynyette, please go tell Aron that Rath is awake.”

Lhynyette jumped to her feet, marked her place with a blue slip of paper and then put down her own book in the seat of her chair, showing particular reverence for the volume, and rushed away towards the entrance.

Wy raised her hand to signal, looking towards the serving line. Within seconds, Aunt Lyn, the Elder volunteer who managed the kitchens, appeared with two assistants. As soon as Rath climbed down from the table, the trio cleared away his blankets, wiped the table down, and then laid out a repast that Rath was sure would feed ten large men.

Wy smiled and thanked them and Aunt Lyn bowed to Rath and then hurried away, her assistants in tow.

Rath surveyed the food. Except for a single place setting, the entire long table was covered, much of it with fresh food such as melon and strawberries, but there were also cooked dishes with potatoes, yellow squash, eggs of various sorts, breads and rolls, grits, oatmeal, bacon, and several large, well-done steaks.

“Who is eating aside from me?” Rath asked Wy.

She did not grin. “All of this is for you. You should be starving.”

“I am.”

“The Spirit resides in the body. To replenish your Spirit, you must replenish your body.”

“I can’t possibly eat all this.”

“You can eat more than you think. The magic will take it.”

“Ah? How does that work?”

“I have no idea.” She picked up her book and showed him the spine, and he recognized it as one of the library books from the Lyceum. The spine read: The Physical Economy of Magic. “I haven’t gotten to that part yet.”

He looked over at Lhynyette’s book. It had the same, musty and handmade outer appearance as Wy’s.

These were not books loaned from the Stacks, the long Chambers of shelves and alcoves that existed in every Section, but books from his — the Lycum’s — library. Or, more precisely, from the books that he had salvaged and stored in the kitchen there.

Before he could ask, she said, “When I told Aron about the books at the Lyceum, he said that they had to come into The Wall at once. We got them all only a few hours after you left for Cantonment Fourteen. We took carts up the Lifts, walked for almost an hour across The Roof to the Lyceum, and then walked back. Aron said that the books should not be shelved in the Stacks because they had been preserved apart from the Index for a reason, even though we don’t know what that reason was. He also said that they might hold clues to The Tower and had to be all read. It was easy to recruit readers. It will still take days, though, to go through them all.”

Rath nodded. A physical book written by a Custodian and placed on the shelves in the Stacks would be, by some thus far undetermined tech, immediately read and stored for retrieval by the Index. In fact, all of the shelved physical books that existed in the various Section Stacks had been placed there by members of the Custodian Nation over the close to millennia that they had inhabited The Wall. The Index’s own original books, those that had taught the people of the Custodian Nation medtech, higher mathematics, maintenance systems, bot management, and so much more, could be printed on demand but were all stored within whatever tech mind the Index possessed. Outside of its access terminals, the Index, as a system, did not exist as a tech node or mechanical installation that could be inspected or repaired, as far as any Custodian had been able to discover.

The Index simply was.

Rath’s stomach growled. He pulled a chair from another table and sat down to start eating.

“How long was I out?” he asked around a mouthful of still warm bread slathered in butter and grape jam.

“Seven hours.”

He jumped to his feet. “I have to get back to Cantonment Fourteen to make the Bridges!”

“You still have more than four hours until dawn.” Wy put a hand on each of his shoulders and applied gentle pressure to make him return to his seat. “If you don’t eat, you won’t be able to use your Talents.”

He submitted and began eating scrambled eggs directly from the bowl to save time. Wy moved her chair beside his and sat down to begin reading again.

He went through the whole large bowl of eggs, and then, on the premise that the steak would fill him up faster, took the largest from the platter and cut it into small pieces so that he could chew and swallow faster.

When the steak was gone, he felt like he could eat some more, so he took another steak. “You should eat something. A lot of this is going to go to waste.”

Wy looked up from her book. “I’ve already eaten, and it won’t go to waste. All of this came from donations from the rations of the staff here and from all of your friends and even some people I don’t think that you have met. When you’re done, everyone will come by and make sure that nothing spoils.”

Rath stopped mid-chew. “I’m eating someone else’s food?”

“You’re eating food that your friends and I need you to eat. You have your task and we have ours. Without your Talents, no one escapes, Rath.”

After a hard moment, he nodded grimly and resumed eating.

In the end, he ate at least four times the amount that he had ever before eaten in one sitting and still did not feel full.

But knowing that he could not possibly leave nothing for those that had donated rations, he stopped and pushed back from the table.

“I’m going to get a shower before I return to Cantonment Fourteen. You said that we have quarters? It was … well, just yesterday.”

Wy got up and took his hand, leaving her book on her seat. “I’ll show you.”

She started towards the Exit, going down the row of tables and then cutting across the aisle in front of the serving area. The servers, cooks, and helpers all bowed as Rath went by. The few scattered diners also stood to bow.

Rath suppressed a grimace and continued on behind Wy.

Watching her walk, he could not but admire her form and grace. He though about her for a moment, and then said, no hesitation in his voice, “You can wash my back.”

She laughed and looked back at him with a quirky smile. “Passion also drains the Spirit.”

“I’ll go back and eat some more.”

She stopped and sobered as she examined his face. “You were always hesitant before.”

“It’s just … how much time do we have left?”

“I can’t determine that. The waypoints and paths multiply by the hour. Some paths give us days, some as much as a circuit of the Carnelian Star, some a month, a few longer. I cannot do anything to forge this runaway future. I can only experience it.”

He drew a breath and let it out, putting everything else at arms’ length for at least this one moment. “Do any of the paths show you washing my back?”

She hugged his arm and interlaced her fingers with his. “Our time will come.”

“So that’s a no?”

Wy pursed her lips. “None of the waypoints that I have glimpsed for the immediate future show us having any private time together.”

He nodded wistfully.

She sighed and then abruptly gave a twitch of her head to reject defeat. Pulling hard on his hand, he started off again, walking urgently. “We can still try. We may get a few minutes.”

Fhaeyr and his scout group were lying in wait right outside the Exit, lined up in the boulevard.

Rath clasped his comrade’s hand, asked him again to search for Pol, and then made a Bridge to a small square in a modest town in the far north farms based upon the description of a Senior who had been born there. In order to establish the return Bridge, he and Wy had to go along. The trip across the Bridge took forty-seven minutes by Rath’s watch.

The town was in ruins and the square empty. Rath bid Fhaeyr and his scouts farewell, made a wide return Bridge that he would keep open and replace daily — at least as long as that was possible — and then he and Wy crossed into it.

As they walked alone in whatever magical realm the Bridges passed through, they talked about what Rath had seen and experienced in Cantonment Fourteen and what Wy had been doing in his absence. As time went on, he was briefly tempted to express his surprisingly invigorated affection in a more direct and immediate manner, as the return trip should be approximately the same length, plus or minus, as the outward trip. They were indeed utterly alone and thus presented with an opportunity that he worried would not come again, but since he did not want to risk suddenly appearing with Wy in the public boulevard of Sixth Section in a potentially embarrassing or disheveled state — or worse — he contented himself with just holding her hand.

Aron, with a clutch of following Scholars, arrived just after they set foot back on the central boulevard of L24 Sixth. After asking after Rath’s health in persistent and demanding detail, including how much he had eaten, Aron gave a report on his efforts to find information in the Index concerning The Tower.

“So far, we have records of anecdotes and observations by a great many people over the entire span of time that the Custodian Nation has inhabited The Wall, but all of those can be boiled down to three things: It’s there. It must have fallen. We can’t get inside.”

Rath nodded. “Anything from the books from the Lyceum?”

“Our readers are compiling notes as they read, but most of it is very esoteric magical theory that none of us have the technical foundation to fully understand. So far, the mentions of The Tower that we have found are just as unhelpful as those in the Index. We did find one thing, though. Your voice Talent is called Elhn Syhn, Speaker.”

“That’s good to know, at least,” Rath said. “After I return from Cantonment Fourteen, I’ll take a small group inside The Tower to have a quick look. Maybe they’ll find something.”

“You cousin Sym is ready. She has three volunteer maintenance people with decades of experience in various aspects of the tech systems of The Wall.”

Aea dashed up just as Aron finished speaking, and Rath’s comrade gave a quick wave as he led his Scholars away.

After Rath received Aea’s report — Exarch Ehlren had left a small rear detachment to manage the intersection Bridges and had moved on to the Square of Heros. All of the Bridges to and from Cantonment Fourteen had closed when Rath had fallen unconscious, and that more or less coincided with his original plan to dismiss them as they became unused. There would be no update from Aea’s report, already many hours old, until Rath returned to the city. Rath thanked Aea and told her stand ready to accompany him back to Cantonment Fourteen.

When Rath was done with Aea, Aunt Cyhrin was already waiting with three Monitor Elders who were introduced as well-respected retired Exarchs from Lineages other than Wolf. The introductions and discussion of their objectives and instructions, most of which was supplied by Aunt Cyhrin, took several minutes. Rath’s plan for these emissaries was to bring them to the Square of Heros with him, then — after the refugee Bridges were established — to make a Bridge from there that would place them on the same mound of rubble from which he had surveyed the parade ground of the Training Center. That would put them within walking distance, but not deposit them through unmistakably magical means directly in the midst of Bear Lineage.

Vice-Exarch Llylm came next with three younger Shield officers, one an Amazon, who she had appointed as her staff. They had organized all the Shields that had come to The Wall so far into a provisional company, but were planning for a provisional battalion.

“Good,” Rath told her. “Coordinate with Aron to include the Shields of his Clan. We’re going to need a full time guard on all of the lifts, shuttle platforms, and Exits in the Section.”

Vice-Exarch Llylm raised an eyebrow. “I’ve been told that a Section is ten kilometers wide by forty kilometers long?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Even a brigade is not enough to guard all that. That’s four hundred square kilometers.”

Rath knew that, had known it all his life, but hearing it from Vice-Exarch Llylm seemed to make it sound more fantastic than he had ever considered. “Right. Establish guards here along the central boulevard and at all the occupied chambers. Aron’s Clan will be responsible for the Quartern that they have claimed. Cover as many of the Section Exits as you can. Every Shield that comes through is yours. I need you to take care of that. Keep everyone in line and working.”

“Aye. It will be done, Magister.”

It was like that for the entire time remaining before he departed to Cantonment Fourteen.

An impromptu queue formed right there along the median of the boulevard as people continually came to report, ask a question, suggest solutions, express a need, or simply ask if he would try to find their son/daughter/sister/brother/spouse/friend/other when he was Outside.

One of those was Blyhthia, Wy’s kinswoman who had survived the fall of the guesthouse with them, who emerged as something of a surprise from the queue when a large, sad-faced man who had asked after an old friend had moved aside. She came to speak about her mother, who had been in their home village of Endless, far to the east.

With shame, Rath realized that he had not thought of Blyhthia once since in the hours since he had brought her to The Wall from the ruined guesthouse. Nor had he thought of her injured husband Tyrhen or their children Myree and Khyl.

She stayed only for seconds to give him her mother’s name and then was gone.

He listened intently and remembered each request, but he could make no promises

Wy stayed with him the whole time, just holding his hand.