Well, Milo had already reported the bastards; sadly, he couldn’t do anything else. Right now, he had to focus on the more productive things, like the barrier and sigil.
The communication sigil, at least, was very obvious. It stood in the middle of the room on an iron plate set into the stone floor, standing upright. The sigil itself was in a faded blue with missing spots. Damn, no wonder it wasn’t working. Just as he’d suspected, rain, snow, and various other elements had likely come in through the large open windows, wearing down the paint.
Milo put down the paint and brush for a moment, whipping out his wand and hitting the sigil with a removal spell. Then he spelled the paint, which wasn’t a complex process, and once done, swapped wand for brush. He dipped the brush into the paint, getting a good coating. The sigil wasn’t complex to drawout. Bless the original mage who’d designed it that way. A little curvy line with a swoop at the bottom, a dot in the curve, and presto! All done.
Milo leveled his brush at the completed sigil and intoned, “Thou shalt work and not give me trouble.”
“Uh”—Rowan studied him, brow screwed up in this perplexed way—“was that the spell?”
“Huh? No, spell’s done. That was a warning. It had better work, or I’ll wipe it clean and redo it if it doesn’t. Anyway, done and off to the next!”
“I thought you said this would take you an hour?”
“I thought it would, honestly. I didn’t realize there was an iron plate put in for this purpose. Most people try to chisel something into the building, and then I have to dig out all the old paint to reapply it. Much more tedious.”
“Oh. I’m glad for this design, then.”
“Me too.” Milo might actually get done before sunset if all the sigils were a similar structure.
Once back down and out the door, Milo started up the guiding spell, starting it right from the outer wall of the watchtower. He wanted the towers to be inside the barrier, not outside of it. He’d have to tweak the spell to allow the mage globe to be seen by incoming ships, but his plan would still work.
Then he carefully walked the line, using his wand to throw down spikes every now and again in the grass. Each spike shot up like a rod of pure light, not only marking the way, but they would eventually be the supports for the barrier. Milomiiiiighthave overdone it—he used twice the number of spikes he’d normally put in—but in this case? Better safe than sorry.
The second watchtower was on the opposite side of the cliff, to the west. Only a few minutes’ walk, and they did exactly the same thing. Go up four flights, remove the sigil, replace the sigil, go back down the stairs.
At the fourth tower, they paused at the top to have lunch. Milo happily downed sun tea, three hearty sandwiches, potato crisps, and the sliced fruit. Rowan merely shook his head, amused more than anything about Milo’s appetite, and didn’t say a word.
The day wore on as he worked, the sun slowly rising, then just as slowly heading back toward the horizon. Milo could feel the drain on his magical core as he worked. Of course doing two different things at once would drain him, but that was fine. He’d expected as much, and it wasn’t like this amount would put him in danger. Once he had the barrier completely up, he could rest a little tomorrow as he finalized the ward’s design. That and make up some fire-suppression charms.
When they finally made it all the way around to the eighth tower, Milo huffed a breath of relief. His calves were aching from all of those damned stairs, sweat beaded his forehead from the constant magic usage, and he just wanted to lie down somewhere with his feet up.
All right, time to do this. Last push. Milo put the last anchor for the barrier into the ground, then pulled Rowan well away from the line. “Once this is up, only humans or beasts can come through. Any type of monster will bounce right off.”
“Perfect.”
Milo lifted his wand like an orchestra conductor and gave the barrier its final spell, uniting all of it. “Complete barrier.”
The barrier snapped into being with an audible hum, like a milky white pane wrapping around the whole area. Milo ran a diagnostic spell to make sure it was working properly across the board, and it seemed to be, as nothing pinged back. Good. In the distance, he could hear cheering, so those within sight of the barrier were clearly celebrating. Their response made Milo’s heart dance around with joy.
Rowan’s breath of relief was audible. He wrapped Milo in a back hug, tone heartfelt. “Thank you.”
“Anytime, love. Right now, though, I’d kill for an early dinner, a hot bath, and not being on my feet the rest of the day.”
“That, we can manage.”
Rowan was incredibly sweet and attentive the rest of the evening. He filled the bath for Milo himself, letting him soak until he was a prune, and then when Milo did get out, he gave him a foot massage, which Milo loved. A massage was honestly needed after all those damn stairs.
He ate dinner with the family and felt like he’d made a bit more headway in getting to know them better. The twins were a riot once they relaxed around him, teasing and poking at each other as only siblings can do. Made Milo wish, again, that he wasn’t an only child.
About halfway through his second plate, another tall ginger joined them. With her long braid and fighting leathers, she looked like a warrior goddess in search of a battlefield. Milo blinked at this new person, taking her in with a sweep of the eyes. She looked much like Raina, but something about her expression reminded him strongly of Rowan. The RBF was what did it. Her freckled nose was a touch sunburned, and based on her scuffed boots and fraying braid, he assumed she’d just gotten in.
Rowan paused in eating as he waved his sister down. “Riley. This is Milo.”
Ah-ha, the resemblance now made perfect sense. This was the other sister he hadn’t met yet. “Hi-hi. Nice to meet you.”
Riley gave him a curious once-over and nodded back in hello.
Oh yeah, she and Rowan weredefinitelysiblings; they had exactly the same expressions and mannerisms.
