The lord of the felines reclines upon soft cushions, his warm and golden lynxish features contrasted by blousy sleeves and trousers and an embroidered vest of cool colors in ranges dominated by blues and purples. His raiment is at once regal and casual, as is only appropriate in the Himaat, where even now in the winter time, the desert is still uncomfortably hot outside.

At a nod from the Emir, a Savanite manservant with a slave's ring in one ear claps his hands, and slaves open the ornately carved and lacquered red cedar doors at the far end of the court hall, to admit the Emir's honored guest and her retinue.

A winged Exile wearing the robes of a Journeyman of the Sphere of Earth enters, leading the attendants. Envoy's own gold and white coloration is matched by the robes, with the exception of a green cloak cut to accommodate her wings. She gives the Emir a formal bow, and looks to the slaves for cues as to what to do next.

A Khatta in elaborate garb bows before those gathered, and, at the sound of ringing bells, announces, "Oh, greatest Emir, he whose fur shines brighter than the burning sun, it is my humble pleasure to introduce to you, the mysterious and wondrous Mage Envoy of Lothrhyn, Student of the Arcane Arts, Mistress of the Element of Earth, traveled here from distant Caroban, at your request."

The Khatta herald bows again, at another a jangling of bells, and – still bowing – he shuffles away, backwards, so as not to turn his back upon the Emir.

Envoy makes note of the herald's exit posture, but is still a bit stunned by the flowery introduction.

Savanite slaves move before Envoy, setting out some luxurious-looking cushions to kneel or recline upon, and two more bring a short table with refreshments for the one having an audience with the Emir.

The Aeolun chooses to kneel, and presses her hands primly into her lap. So far, she hasn't said a word.

The Emir beams, eartufts flicking backward and forward in a Khattan gesture of pride. "Ah, esteemed and famed traveler, of whom I have heard as many stories to outnumber the sands of the deserts, please be welcome in my humble abode… " He gestures about the "humble" palace, and then lets his hand drop to indicate Envoy should move toward the pillows – almost next to the Emir, what honor! – in order that they might converse without raising their voices. "… and partake of the simple food and drink that my servants may offer you." Again, the numerous and exotic-looking delicacies belie his tone. "May my poor hospitality find itself suitable to your eyes."

The two Savanites who set out the first pillow for Envoy flush in shame at their error moments before in setting out a cushion further away from the Emir. They bow many times in silent and humble apology, and imitate the Emir's gesture toward the closer cushions.

The Emir shows no sign of having noticed that they made any error in the first place.

Envoy moves to the offered position, and finally says, "I … I appreciate your graciousness, Sire. It was only a few short years ago that I was, myself, but a humble abode offering what I could to my guests."

The Khattan blinks. "You were a humble abode?" he murmurs, startled from the formalities of court presentation and welcoming of an honored guest. "Is it possible that I have misheard you?"

The music has lowered in volume, so as not to compete with the voice of the Emir, since it would be unthinkable to risk being loud enough that anyone might have to ask twice what he might have said. The feline dancers continue to sway and turn off to the sides of the court, however, for the entertainment of the Emir, should he choose to be so distracted.

Suddenly blushing, Envoy explains, "Yes, My Lord, I began my existence as a living tower. I learned to create servant bodies in time, and it was through happenstance that my envoy came to this world and evolved independently into the humble guest before you today."

Blink… Blink… The Emir looks nonplused. "I have heard tales of the First Ones that suggest they knew such exotic magicks, even that they could create things that lived. And I have heard of the gateway to other worlds, once a forgotten and lost thing of the harsh desert, now an emergent power in this world… " He adds with that Khattan pride-flick again, "As my simple kingdom has taken its own place in the great tapestry that is this world." He pauses, glance distracted by a particularly clever dancer, then continues, "Is it possible that you are descended from these First Ones, a remnant somehow surviving on another world?"

"I have never met one of the First Ones," the Aeolun says, carefully attempting to sound at least a little reverent, "At least, not any that chose to reveal themselves as such. At best, I have more in common with their artifacts than with Those Who Walked Before."

Servants replenish the treats set before the Emir and his guest: an array of goblets, filled with various liquids with a mild touch of alcohol, some of them concoctions of liquid xocholatl, others wine, and even some plain and clear water that smells faintly of berries. Bowls of breaded meats (finger foods) are set out, along with piping hot bread and artistic arrangements of fruits. There is only a little sample of each, the intend being to present as much of a choice for the one served as possible, without bothering the guest with having to make a request … and the servants, of course, are quick to replace whatever is chosen.

The Emir rubs his chinfur. "Interesting… Very interesting. Ah, but I forget my manners! Break bread and share water with me, and enjoy my hospitality, and I will explain why I wished the delightful pleasure of your company here today." He gestures toward the "bread" and "water".

Envoy smiles to the Khatta and samples a little from each plate and goblet, enjoying the variety itself rather than any one flavor.

The Emir does likewise and makes small talk with Envoy as they sup. "Observe the beauty of my dancers – they are artists of the body, whose every motion are fraught with meaning and beauty! Truly, have you ever seen the like up in Rephidim, which you called your home for a time? Or perhaps Caroban, home of a thousand mystics, offers similar delights?"

Smiling still, the Aeolun shakes her head, "Those places are full of bustle and ambition. Few would take the time to cultivate such flowers, or set aside a garden to display them in, I fear. I have known artists such as these, though less refined – but not on this world, before now."

"Ah, a lovely metaphor, esteemed traveler," the Emir says with a laugh. "Truly, your knowledge of our Abu Dhabi style grows as quickly as do the flowers of the desert after a passing rain. Before long, you too may be wearing the caftan and veils of our people and sipping xocholatl in the morning!" His eartufts wiggle.

There's a small commotion at the entrance, as some slaves usher in a winged Hekoye through a side entrance.

The Savanite slaves usher Lochinvar toward a cushion near where Envoy is seated … though Envoy is between his location and the place where the Emir reclines. But then, she does look pretty important in that outfit of hers, and with all the slaves doting over her.

The Emir affects no notice as yet of Lochinvar, as he exchanges small talk with the mage Envoy.

Envoy, uncertain if acknowledging Lochinvar's presence prematurely would offend the Emir somehow, simply continues the conversation.

The coyote, before taking a seat on the cushion, kneels on one knee, his head bowed in respect, until the Emir decides to notice him.

"So, is it true that you have once visited a Zelak hive?" the Emir inquires of Envoy. His tufts perk forward curiously.

The Aeolun nods. "It is, Sire. Shkarkin Hive, some time ago. I was even temporarily accepted as a Scout for it, after the Queen saw me as a drone from another, more advanced Hive."

The herald steps forward, and says, "Oh, most wondrous Emir, he whose teeth shine brighter than the stars of the heavens, it is my humble pleasure to introduce to you, the wily and strong-backed Lochinvar of the Temple Rangers of Rephidim, Intrepid Explorer of Arcadia, and Daring Adventurer who Braved the Dangers of the Earth Tower of Barabbas, traveled here from the sky island, at your request."

The Emir's eyebrows pop upward again. "So you are an honorary Zelak! It must have been a terrifying experience – I have heard that Zelaks are very … short… with visitors who don't follow their protocols closely, and they are not in the habit of explaining their customs."

The herald bows again, clasping his hands together, then shuffles away, backward, so that his back is not turned upon the Emir.

"I would not be surprised if my companions of that day still had nightmares about it, Sire," Envoy admits, then turns to smile at the just-introduced Lochinvar.

Even though introduced to the Emir, Lochinvar remains silent and still until spoken to by him.

The Emir claps. "Ah! My other guest has arrived, honored and esteemed Mage. Welcome to my humble abode, traveler from afar… " He says this to Lochinvar. "Break bread and share water with me, if you will partake of my simple hospitality." He gestures to a servant to take a sample of the "simple hospitality" toward Lochinvar's somewhat more distant position.

The slave immediately bows, and takes another tray before Lochinvar. Like the other trays, it is laden with several goblets already filled with an assortment of xocholatl liquors, light wines and even some sparkling water and juice, along with bowls of breaded meat morsels and pieces of bread and luscious and polished fruits.

"My thanks to you, oh most revered Emir," replies the Hekoye, "I am most honored by your invitation and kindness." With that, Lochinvar picks a piece of bread off the table and a goblet of wine, before getting off his knee and moving towards the cushion set aside for him.

The Emir looks satisfied with this, as he takes another small tidbit from the tray and sips from his glass goblet to complete the guest-right ceremony. "More eloquent, esteemed traveler, than I would have guessed one who was once a dockworker, then a worker on an expedition, then a Temple Ranger – do not the tales say they are fierce and hard-driven men of the far frontiers? – to be. But then, perhaps you have many hidden qualities, ah?" He twitches his eartufts up curiously.

Envoy dabs at her muzzle with her napkin, to cover up a grin.

"Noble Emir," Lochinvar replies, smiling just a little, "You appear to know much of my past talents and deeds. True that some years ago I was working on docks and airships, but know also that during that time I traveled to many different lands and experienced their cultures. I find it a personal challenge to myself to learn these, since knowledge of them may be appropriate at some time."

The Emir beams, showing off teeth which are indeed bright. "One who seeks out and meets challenges will go far in this life, to be sure. I have heard conflicting tales of this Earth Tower to which you were sent – some say that it houses weapons made by long-ago mages for their own wars, others, that it is a mere curio washed up by the sands, unveiled as briefly as my lovely dancers here will flick their tails. What do you believe, traveler who seeks out that which is strange?"

Envoy perks her ears curiously towards Lochinvar.

"I can tell you what I know, as someone who was there, oh Majestic Emir," the winged Hekoye says. "The Earth Tower was constructed by one mage – a Nohbakim named Barabbas, who was a mage of the Earth. It houses no weapons for wars against other mages or other lands. It was a laboratory for this mage to attempt blending of different creatures together – for reasons I know or understand not. The only 'weapons' it contains are those to protect the tower itself – and at that, most of those are 'puzzle traps' on the tower's inside."

The Emir raises his eyebrows again. "Ah, my son, Salahin, will be so disappointed to hear that," he says with a chuckle. "He would have had it that this… 'story' of a menagerie was merely a cover for secret Nagai ambitions. As the Naga Empire has yet to contest my … neutrality in matters political, I and Wasir Rukhim rather doubted it."

"Perhaps he was seeking a way to counter the Nohbakim curse?" Envoy suggests.

Lochinvar cocks his head to one side at Envoy's suggestion, but keeps facing the Emir.

The Emir turns to Envoy. "An interesting idea, Mage! You have heard of the story of the Nohbakim curse then?"

Envoy says, "I have never heard the entire tale, only fragments from old tomes and from Savanite legend. That, and because the Nohbakim didn't strike me as having arrived at their state by any force of nature."

Lochinvar nods. "I have indeed, most Righteous Emir. I was involved with a group who traveled and gave passage to a group of Nohbakim who believed that they had the means to reverse their course. We only shipped them so far before they made their own way, but as I have since encountered Nohbakim, I can only presume that their crusade was unsuccessful."

The Emir nods. "A keen insight! It is a tragic story, that goes thusly. A long time ago, when the Himaat was as fertile as the Himar that it bordered – the old Himar – there were only Zerda living there." He recounts the story of the old Savanites, who were arrogant and believed themselves entitled to all around them, wielding mighty magicks to wreak harms upon the Zerdas. "But they themselves failed in the end, and even their last stronghold has fallen. Only their curses live after them."

"A testimony, my friends, that the mighty fall, and their works perish – only how they are spoken of by their friends will live after them," the Emir says expansively. "I would be spoken of well, and so I turn my hand from destruction and evil, to prosperity and peace for my people."

"A noble calling," Envoy says, "for a noble man."

The Emir smiles. "You are gracious, esteemed Mage. And now, though I would willingly spend the whole day in pleasant discourse with the both of you, I regret that matters of state will compel me to draw things to a point rather more quickly than I should like." He looks toward Lochinvar, then back to Envoy. "I pray you will forgive me for this directness?"

"Of course, Sire," the Aeolun says. "Duty before pleasantries, after all."

The winged coyote nods. "Of course, magnificent Emir. I thank you once again for inviting me."

The Emir sighs, "Ah, there speaks the bluntness of Rephidim. In Abu Dhabi, we like to live to a slower pace; our merchants haggle with all the music of epic poetry, our poets take their ease upon the balconies and the roofs, watching the sun wash gold across the horizon, even our slaves may take their ease at noon when the sun is at its peak, making glitter of the Procession." He chuckles, and then sips from an iced sherbet before continuing.

"It will soon be my fiftieth birthday," the Emir continues. "I have conceived a magnificent project – it will be a new Wonder of the World, one that I will pray lives long after I do. It will be a menagerie of all the creatures of Sinai, so that one may pass through the savage jungles, explore the forests in which the Bromthen forest-hog lives, venture to even an enclave of Lamu with its strange beasts that are said to be shape-shifters… And as a crowning jewel of this Wonder, I should like it well if these mysterious creatures which I have heard of were to be enumerated and incorporated into their own environment. What could be more wonderful, after all, than creatures made by magic?"

The Emir pauses, spreading his hands toward Envoy and Lochinvar as if inviting them to comment.

Envoy blinks three times, then asks, "You speak of the creatures from the Earth Tower, Sire? It is still accessible?"

"I beg apology for questioning your wisdom in this plan, most wise Emir," starts Lochinvar, "and I suggest this even though I believe you know this for yourself, but these creatures in the Tower require a special kind of care and attention if they are to survive and be content with where they are moved to. The party that I was with there previously believed that they could care for these animals, but – at least before I took my leave of them – appeared to be struggling to keep them. I would even go so far as to suggest that there may be elements of the tower that could be critical to their survival."

"That," the Emir responds, "is a question which perhaps you both may answer. It is on territory claimed by Abu Dhabi; there are none to gainsay my right to send whomsoever I please there. I desire to commission an expedition to the Earth Tower of Barabbas again, to survey whatever may be needed to carry out my wishes. If they require the Tower itself to survive… "

The Emir beams toward the Mage Envoy. "… then perhaps you may wish to consider the feasibility of a project to transport the Tower itself to Abu Dhabi, where my Menagerie shall be constructed."

Envoy rubs her chin in thought, and then answers, "I would not be worthy of my Sphere if I did not at least investigate the possibility. Having such an important artifact within easy access of scholars could have enormous benefits."

"Precisely why I asked for you, illustrious Mage Envoy," the Emir says effusively. "Not only have you traveled far and seen many things – and survived to tell the tale, which is also important – but you are also learned in the magicks that may be instrumental to this enterprise. And as for you, honored Ranger Lochinvar, your expertise will be vital, as you may guide the Mage about the Tower and explain what she needs to know about its workings. And of course, my Wasir, Rukhim, will see to it that you are provided with the necessary funds to hire whatsoever people and supplies you will need to carry out this … exploratory expedition."

Looking to the Ranger, Envoy asks, "Are you up to a return visit, better equipped with both materiel and hindsight, Lochinvar?"

Lochinvar nods. "I am, and at the invitation of the most gracious Emir, I will endeavor to do my best possible," he says.

"Excellent! I shall of course, make the necessary arrangements with the Collegia and the Temple," the Emir says. He beams and claps his hands for the servants to bring in more food and drink. "Let us celebrate the beginning of our new friendship!"

"The first of many celebrations to follow, I hope," Envoy toasts, raising a goblet of xhocolatl.

Lochinvar raises his goblet also (having yet to drink from it).

The servants almost jump at the summons, bringing more liquid and solid delicacies for the benefit of the Emir and his honored guests. The volume of the music picks up just a bit, and the dancers move with a more enthusiasm than before.

In another part of the palace, considerably less grand and more functional…

The Wasir Rukhim is evidently less than thrilled with the Emir's decision to construct a new Wonder of the World. The gray-furred Khatta raises his hands over his head as if in supplication to the skies. "Oh, First Ones preserve us, isn't it bad enough that we had to pay out shekels for the New Year's parade but now an expedition to the Earth Tower? It's been moldering under the sands for thousands of years!" He sighs and then gestures for Envoy and Lochinvar to make themselves comfortable on the pillows. Only fruit, water, and juices are being served at this point. "So how much of an Emir's ransom will you be needing, hmm, Ranger Lochinvar, Mage Envoy?"

The Wasir tugs on his whiskers. He's thinly built compared to the rather portly Emir, and his tailtip flicks side to side with nervous energy.

"Actually," the coyote points out, "when I was last at the tower, it was well preserved. Everything was either dormant or 'frozen'."

Envoy sits on a cushion, and asks, "Could I have some seeds to bring? I'll need to know what any surviving animals will be able to eat. I imagine anything I need for my magic will be available within the tower itself."

"And now that it's had four years after you and your friends were bumbling through it, waking up First Ones only know what? Exposing long-dead sections of it to fresh air for the first time in, oh … centuries? Millennia?" The Wasir taptaps his quill against paper, then starts scribbling. "And will these be gold-plated imported seeds from Ur, or perhaps lovingly bathed in earth fresh from Lamu? What kind of seeds?"

"Grains, oats, and succulent grasses mainly," Envoy says, "With a few fruit-bearing vine and tree seeds as well please. Enough to fill one of these pillows should suffice."

"Mmf. All right," the Wasir Rukhim says grudgingly. "Just the seeds? You won't be needing bulk quantities of grain?"

Scribble, scribble, goes the quill, its colorful plume bobbing over the paper.

Envoy blinks. "That's what the seeds are for. They're easier to grow on the spot than to carry the grain itself."

Lochinvar looks at Envoy. "I'm not sure if seeds will be completely necessary," he says. "There was plenty of vegetation growing in the tower. However, while it was growing back far quicker than one would expect, it was noticeably being depleted. I should think that by now, they should have fully grown back."

"And what if you need something to throw the – oh, I don't know – the ravenous tree-shrew of Arborea, before it flings itself upon you and consumes all of your clothes in a desperate feeding frenzy for plant-like substances?" The Wasir rolls his eyes, then resumes scribbling. "But it's your expedition, Esteemed Mage, Honored Ranger. If you want to travel light, that's your business."

"As for my needs, Wasir," the Ranger continues, "they are pretty simple. A good quantity of food is most important for both of us while there, as well as a good supply of fresh water to supplement the limited supply inside."

The Wasir pauses. "You won't be traveling with an entourage then? No armed guard to defend you from brigands? No crew for an airship to lift you there?" He raises an eyebrow. "No dancing girls and musicians to raise your spirits as you trudge through the desert, sand getting itself between your toes?"

Envoy turns to Lochinvar, and asks, "Do you recall if there were many carnivorous animals? If so, do you think we should carry in some bugs and vermites?"

Lochinvar shakes his head to the Wasir. "I do not believe we will. The tower itself is surrounded by a perpetual sandstorm to keep such people out. We will need transportation to the Sea of Sand and the assistance of a Nohbakim sand ship to traverse to the tower. We will also need a mage who is suitably trained in parting the sandstorm."

The coyote looks at the Aeolun. "The animals that we found were pretty harmless and vegetation eaters," he says. "That is to say, the ones we found before I took my leave of the others there."

The Wasir scribbles. "You've never put together an expedition before, eh, Ranger? Just served in them? Take my word for it, the manifest I'm writing is going to look pretty fat here and now, but it'll look thin when the only thing between you and starvation are a few extra sticks of Rughrat jerky. All right, then. Mage Envoy, what about you, think you're up to parting sand storms? Tch, the rates Caroban's charging for genuine Collegia mages these days, the less to spend, the better."

"Well, I might be able to disrupt it for a short time," Envoy says, uncertainly. "That's only if it's generated by Earth Magic though. Otherwise an air or chaos mage would be needed. Or … a tunnel."

"Barabbas was an earth mage," notes Lochinvar. "And I seem to recall, from his notes, that he did create the sandstorm."

The Wasir stops scribbling and waits patiently. "As long as your plan doesn't call for mass expenditure of our too-scarce funds – absolutely no hundred men carrying parasols to protect your delicate fur from the sand – what'll it be?" He slugs back some wine and wipes his muzzle.

The Aeolun nods, and says, "With some examination of it, I should be able to manage a passage. If not, we might be able to fly over it."

"And thank you for the compliment," the Mage adds. "I never thought of my fur as appearing delicate before."

The Wasir pauses. "Ah – of course, Mage. Certainly it's not, for instance, Rhian hide." He flicks an ear in the Khattan equivalence of a nervous tic.

"I should not require any parasols," Lochinvar says, almost matter-of-factly.

"Actually, it has more in common with dragon hide," Envoy confides, smiling.

"So, you won't be asking for any guards or extra men, then? Or a doctor? Or a beast handler, someone to, ah, clean up after the creatures?" The Wasir looks nonplused at the mention of dragon hides. "Dragons are mythical beasts – I couldn't possibly comment on their fur, or lack thereof. Anyway … Contingency planning, honored sirs, you have to plan for the contingencies! What if you get there and find out there's been some kind of occupation?"

"Then you'd have to figure out what they owe you in back rent," Envoy jokes. "I had planned on returning the animals to states of suspended animation before transporting them. A follow-up crew would be able to move them then, presuming we've determined it safe to remove them from the tower."

"Or what if, First Ones protect us, you get there and find out that the animals are all wasting away because – ha! Yes indeed, back rent will be due." The Wasir cracks a smile for the first time, ears flitting forward. "Returning them to … 'suspended animation'? Some kind of magical sleep, you mean? How do you know that's possible?"

"Because most are in such a state already," answers the Ranger. "If one earth mage can do it, I expect another can also."

Envoy says, "And I will have Barabbas' notes to guide me."

The Wasir raises an eyebrow. "Well, you've been there; I'll take your word for it, Ranger. What else can you think of that you might need? A Nohbakim sandship to take you thither, supplies for the two of you, seeds for the Mage to spell into grain and such… "

"Do you have any homing-creens we could use to send messages back?" Envoy asks.

"Through a sandstorm?" The Wasir looks horrified. "Waste of perfectly good Creens, I dare say."

"I would assume that our mage here will be able to part the sandstorm sufficiently for the Creen to get through," Lochinvar comments.

Envoy says, "I was hoping to find a way to turn it off altogether."

The Wasir looks less than completely convinced. "Once brigands find out that there's no sand storm, you'll be asking to have them knocking on your front door. Oh, I can just see it now, a slave will come down from the Creen conservatory with a message, 'Trapped in Tower, estimate hundred fifty warriors outside, send help, love, Mage Envoy'."

The Wasir adds, "P.S. we need more meat for the captive dragon, thanks, Ranger Lochinvar." He smirks.

The Aeolun hmmms. "I suppose we could go with the alternate plan, and try to walk the tower back the city."

"I do admit that the Wasir has a point about the sandstorm." says the coyote. "It is a good buffer to keep people out."

"You can move a tower by yourself?" the Wasir asks, looking boggled. "I'd thought that was the kind of thing you would need a convocation of wizards for!"

Envoy nods. "I suppose we can do without the message Creens then. Oh, Barabbas may have a mechanism to move the tower in place already, Wasir. After all, he got it out there in the first place."

The Wasir points out, "Who's to say he didn't build it there?"

"That's the sort of thing earth mages do, I understand," Rukhim continues. "Rise, stone! Rise, sands! Form for me a tower, six bedrooms, three stories, a minaret on top, oh, and put a hot tub in the master bathroom for me!" He chuckles dryly.

"That is also a possibility," the Mage admits. "Until I've been able to investigate the tower and Barabbas' notes, everything is pretty much speculation. That is why I don't plan for a large expedition that may come back empty-handed. Better a small, exploratory one to ascertain what can and can't be accomplished, and to begin preparations as needed."

The Wasir nods. "That's understood, Mage, but understand that it's my neck on the line if you don't survive to report back to the Collegia, or the Ranger to serve his Temple. And the Emir will hold me responsible if either of you come back and claim that the expedition was set up to fail. And all this – all this," he emphasizes, as if indicating the weight of a vast stone tower upon his shoulders, "on top of our usual expenses and budget for the year!"

"I will grant however, that you haven't asked for the dancing girls and musicians, so you're ahead of Prince Salahin's outings there at least," the Wasir comments with a wry grin.

Envoy folds her hands in her lap, and asks, "Well then, sir, what sort of precautions do you think we should be taking? The original expedition didn't have much."

"And what happened to the original expedition, hmm? Hmm. You might take a doctor, a couple guards. Ideally, we'll find one who was raised on a farm, who knows animals," the Wasir explains. "Kills two Creens with one stone. What do you think, Ranger?"

"Palace guards," Envoy asks, "or mercenaries? There might be political fallout if official Guards of the Emir had to fight."

"Yours is an expedition sanctioned by the Emir," the Wasir points out. "There would be political fallout either way – and official guards are, at least, already on our payroll. But if you had someone in mind?… "

"Well, in that case," Envoy smiles, "would it be cheaper to send us out on a military patrol ship?"

"As for a doctor, I'm not sure if one will be that necessary," Lochinvar says. "I've had some experience in medical matters of the past few years, so should be able to deal with things. Plus, in the time I've spent in the Rephidim Forest, I've dealt with a number of animals."

"Ahhh, now there you're talking about military force deployment," the Wasir explains. "Imagine myself speaking with our General of the Sky-Navy. 'Excuse me, General, but I need you to assign a corvette to transport a party of six to the Earth Tower of Barabbas. And I'll need them to be picked up a few weeks later.' 'Are you out of your mind, Wasir? I need every ship I've got to hold the frontier and garrison the Himar area!' 'But sir, it's cheaper – ' 'Hire a Nobby!'" Rukhim sighs lugubriously. "Ah, the life of a Wasir. It may look glamorous, Mage, but as you can see, it's like working with sticks and stones."

Envoy says, "I work with sticks and stones all of the time, I'm an earth mage, after all."

The Wasir takes more notes. "Right. Just a couple guards then, to spell you on watches. Hmm. Some kooshkie sleds to carry your supplies?" He rolls his eyes. "Touche."

"Three extra people will mean a lot more supplies," Envoy agrees. "I'm unfamiliar with the local means of transport across the Sea of Sand."

"Ah, kooshkie sleds are… Well… Words fail me," the Wasir says. "You'll have to see them to believe them, but they're what Nohbakim use to transport supplies over the desert – when they're not using sandships, of course, but I'm not sure you want a crew of Nohbakim getting all curious about your endeavors in the Tower. Kooshkies they can teach you to handle."

Lochinvar notes, "The Nohbakim that transported my party there last time didn't seem to bother that much."

"The Emir has instructed me to indicate as well, that he is interested in any developments you can discover about the Nohbakim curse and whether the Earth Tower has any impact on that, but that if you do discover anything… " He glances toward Envoy and Lochinvar as if judging whether they can hold secrets. "… It is to be kept confidential, not for public knowledge. You understand of course, that if there really is a Nohbakim curse and if the Himaat could be transformed into fertile farmland overnight… Well, it could disrupt the whole balance of power in this part of Sinai!"

Envoy nods. "I've been on missions for the Temple before. I've learned about secrecy."

The Hekoye nods slowly. "Of course, such reversal of the curse might not affect the land, only the people," he mentions.

"I personally think it's fluff made up because some mother couldn't bear to tell her cubs that Savanites are slaves because that's all they're good for," the Wasir says with a sniff. "Be that as it may, Rephidim evidently thinks otherwise, so I shall not debate the question."

The Wasir scribbles down some more notes. "So then, Mage Envoy, will you be leading the expedition officially? And Lochinvar will be your second in command and the doctor for the expedition? I'll attach a couple of trusted men to help watch your backs, and instruct my assistant to make sure you're all provisioned sufficiently as well as commissioning the Nohbakim sandship to take you there."

"Since Lochinvar has been there before," Envoy says, "I'd feel more comfortable with him being the one officially in charge. My work doesn't start until after he's gotten me inside the Tower."

The Wasir raises an eyebrow. "Ranger?"

The winged Hekoye nods and says, "That's fine with me."

"I can tell you've never led an expedition," Wasir Rukhim says primly. "As an expedition leader, you say, 'I'll take charge of things'. Never, but never, let someone else make the decisions, or everyone will be looking at them to decide when an emergency happens, not you."

Rukhim flits his tailtip. "Maybe I should assign Prince Salahin to command the expedition. But then it'll blow up into one of those huge affairs complete with someone writing an epic ballad about the whole adventure, and perhaps one of those directors from Rephidim hiring… actors." He shudders.

"They'd probably blow up the Earth Tower at the end to create more drama," the Wasir grumbles.

Envoy giggles suddenly, but doesn't mention that she was once a bard … and an actress.

Lochinvar looks at Envoy curiously, and then turns back to the Wasir. "That's one aspect of leadership, certainly. Another is actually listening to suggestions made by others, as sometimes one will be suggested and highlight something that the leader has not thought of. True that the leader leads, but he is not infallible."

"Certainly you should listen," the Wasir says evenly. "But bear in mind what I said, if you don't want the Emir's men looking at the Mage instead of at you when something happens. Mages do command respect, you know."

The Hekoye folds his arms in front of him, trying to hide a slight look of disgust at that comment.

The Wasir scribbles on the paper. "Moving right along then… How long do you think you'll need?"

"That would be up to the mage, as I'm not qualified to guess how much time she will need to make her evaluation," Lochinvar says, and looks towards Envoy.

"Well, perhaps a week to do a thorough evaluation, and test Barabbas' spells." Envoy guesses. "By then I should know how many of the animals can be relocated, and what their requirements will be."

"Very good – I'll stipulate that the Nohbakim ship should check back in a week, and if you aren't there, they'll wait no more than… Hmm. Contract detail I'll work out later. Let's say they'll get word back to us if you don't show up." The Wasir scribbles down some more notes. "And you'll be expecting reimbursement for any spell components to be used, yes? I do hope you're not planning on using thousand-shekel gems, or ingots of gold, or billing us for 'captured essence of morning'… "

Envoy thinks. "Since I'd planned to use what Barabbas had available, you'd already own them wouldn't you?"

The Wasir replies, "Well, that does rather depend on if it's still any good, doesn't it? After hundreds of years, there might have been a bit of deterioration."

Envoy says, "I try to be very conservative in my spells."

"Excellent! Expenses then, but to a reasonable amount," the Wasir says as he jots this down. "Anything else then, that you can think of? Unusual needs, I should say, not the usual minutiae for expeditions of this size and type."

"Perhaps some books for the Guards to read when they get bored?" Envoy asks.

Lochinvar says, "There's always some books in the library there… but I doubt that they'd be that comprehensible."

The Wasir laughs. "If they can read… I'll take it you want literate guards then."

Envoy asks the Ranger, "Do you recall which language Barabbas wrote in?"

"I believe, actually, that a fair number of the books were written in Khattan," says the Hekoye. "But there are some others in there also."

"Fortunately for the budget, rather than hiring a linguist, I believe we can rely upon the Mage Envoy's own capacious talents in this endeavor?" suggests Wasir Rukhim.

"Literate Guards would be preferable," Envoy agrees. "They'd be less likely to be superstitious about things. And yes, I can read all of the major languages, and Olympian."

"I should point out also that I am quite fluent in Khattan, and most of the languages that the books were written in," Lochinvar notes.

Lochinvar says, "So, as far as linguist goes, we should be covered."

The Wasir writes this down. "Very well then. What else?"

The Hekoye looks at Envoy for any more suggestions?

"Dry soap, so we can conserve water," Envoy suggests, finally.

The Wasir shudders. "Ah, the exigencies of expeditions and life away from the city. You have my profound thanks, illustrious Mage, honored Ranger, that you are the ones venturing to the Earth Tower, not I nor Prince Salahin with whose safety I would be most especially charged."

Envoy says, "Will you be responsible for him when he visits the Zoological Gardens though, once they're completed?"

"Oh, absolutely," the Wasir says. "I imagine we'll need to request a Life Mage from Caroban, and that will cost us a pretty shekel, so that we can make sure all the animals are magically kept docile. First Ones preserve us from the ambitions of Emirs!" He rolls his eyes but chuckles; there is no hatred for the Emir's expansive plans in his voice, only wry resignation.

Envoy grins. "Wait until he wants to bring in animals from the worlds beyond the Gateway Tower."

The Wasir groans. "Ohh… Servant! Bring me cream, I can feel my stomach starting to burn at the thought." He sends a Savanite scurrying to bring him a glass.

Lochinvar does his best to stifle a small chuckle.