A/N: First of all, thanks to everyone who reviewed; you're all such cool people! Now, on with the story… Like "Questions of Power", this is a sort of connecting chapter. Nothing of world-shattering importance actually happens, but we find out what everyone's been up to. A couple of years have passed since the last chapter.

I got a question about what would happen if the Charter bloodlines failed to produce heirs. In Sabriel's time the royal line was virtually non-existent, so we saw what would happen: increased attacks from necromancers, the Dead, and Free Magic creatures. But it was the duty of the Abhorsens to pass on their station, so I imagine they'd have lots of children to try to ensure this; what with all the cousins there must have been someone in each generation to take over the family business. The crown was passed on through the royal line anyway, so no worries there. And if the descendents of Tirelle were anything like her, then there would never be a lack of heirs for the Clayr!

Abhorsen's House

Tirelle cleared her throat and said, "It looks like it's going well."

Abhorsen turned around, and grinned when he saw her. "Lady Clayr!" he greeted her, in a manner entirely too welcoming to be normal. Tirelle was instantly suspicious.

The Seer forced a small smile and bowed her head. "I was passing by on my way to Belisaere", she explained. "I heard that you were building a house, and decided to check up on you." Tirelle turned to survey the work. A team of Wallmakers had been obligingly sent to the island by Ghidreth, and construction was well underway.

"It's going to be magnificent", Abhorsen enthused. "We're going to plant an orchard over there, and there will be courtyards at either end from which you can access the shore. The house will have an observatory, and –"

"Sounds lovely", Tirelle interrupted, not bothering to put the tiniest hint of enthusiasm in her voice. "But what about defences, Abhorsen? You're not exactly the most popular person in the Kingdom."

The young man smiled. "The Wallmakers and I are working on those. The river itself is an excellent defence, but it does make it rather hard to get to the house. They're crafting a safe channel from which you can approach the island by boat – that way." He waved his arm vaguely towards the north. "They're also putting in rows of stepping-stones. You saw those on your way over, right?"

The Clayr nodded. Truth be told, she did not like the look of those stepping-stones at all. Thank goodness that they were not finished yet! The Wallmakers were accessing the island by means of temporary wooden bridges. Tirelle just couldn't picture herself hitching up her skirts to go hopping through the spray from stone to slippery stone. Having stepping-stones to his house just confirmed that Abhorsen was crazy.

"Lady Tirelle", the young man said craftily, and the Seer perked up at the sly note in his voice. "I would dearly like you to meet someone."

The Clayr followed Abhorsen curiously, stepping around blocks of stone and vats of mortar. Abhorsen gestured towards someone who stood in the courtyard, and Tirelle stopped dead in her tracks. The individual was a young woman. She was quite pretty, had long brown hair, and wore a simple woollen dress. But the most shocking thing of all was that she was heavily pregnant.

"Lady Clayr", Abhorsen said with a smugness that set the Seer's teeth on edge, "I would like you to meet my wife, Malia."

With an enormous effort, Tirelle forced herself to take a step forward. "Congratulations", she said sincerely to the young women, although she would be caught dead before she said as much to Abhorsen. "When are you expecting?"

"Within the month", answered Malia, beaming. "The Wallmakers say that a few rooms in the house will be habitable by then."

"If you don't mind me asking", Tirelle said as Abhorsen strolled off to discuss something with the Wallmakers, "How did you meet Lord Abhorsen?"

The woman gave a small laugh. "It was over a year ago. He saved my village from a Hish, but was injured quite badly in the process. He and his strange servant stayed at my father's home. I tended him and – well – things just went on from there."

"And now we are married!" Abhorsen confirmed jovially, coming up behind his wife and trapping her in a tight hug. Tirelle looked pointedly away as he noisily kissed Malia's cheek.

"Gabriel!" the woman remonstrated, trying and failing to look indignant.

Abhorsen glanced at the Clayr, and turned back to his wife. "What?" he teased. "Is anything bothering you, my little honeybee?"

Malia giggled. "Yes, sweetie. We're not exactly alone."

"My darling princess", the young man cooed, "Nothing will ever stop me from kissing you." He swooped in for another kiss. "How was that, muffincake?"

Trying not to gag, Tirelle turned away as politely as she could. Mufincake, indeed! If one of her many lovers ever called her "little honeybee" or "darling princess", she would instantly claw the eyes out of his head! Deciding to leave the two giddy youngsters alone for the moment, the Clayr wandered around the worksite. A white limestone wall had already been erected all around the island, to the height of six men, and the Wallmakers were currently working on the house itself. Tirelle also saw evidence of an orchard in the works, as well as a half-finished paved courtyard.

One of the Wallmakers, a short man with a scruffy black beard, nodded courteously at her as she passed. "Afternoon, Lady Clayr", he grunted.

Tirelle stopped in her tracks. "I'm sorry, are we acquainted?" she asked politely.

The Wallmaker shook his head. "No, ma'am. But I was at the Wall when you and His Majesty came to visit, for the Lord Abhorsen's sword. I'm Malfas."

The Seer shook his calloused hand, noting that the trowel on his leather vest was silver. "A pleasure", she smiled. "During my brief stay at the Wall, I'm afraid I only got to know the Wallmaker and Master Felio."

"I know Felio well", Malfas remarked. "He's in Belisaere now, with the Wallmaker herself."

"Yes, I know", said Tirelle. At the man's confused expression, she explained, "I am currently going to Belisaere myself. I will meet them both there."

"Ah". The Wallmaker's eyes sobered over his black beard. "Then you'd know about the – er – project they're supervising?"

The Clayr nodded her golden head seriously. "Yes", she whispered. "I know all about the Charter Stones, Master Malfas. Ghidreth told me that she had come up with the design quite a long time ago, but it was only recently that the Shining Ones had agreed to help."

"That is serious business", said Malfas quietly. He shook his head sadly. "It's certain that several Wallmakers will lose their lives. When you devote your life to building things, you always put a bit of yourself into them. But these Charter Stones, I think they'll take your whole self, not just a few drops of blood." He turned back to the block he was fashioning with hammer and chisel. "The Wallmakers are of two minds about it", he continued as he worked. "Some think it's worth it. Others think nothing's worth sacrificing lives, even volunteered ones."

"And what do you think?" Tirelle asked the man.

Malfas turned to look at her sombrely. "I don't know what to think", he confessed. "But it doesn't matter. I may be a Master, but I serve the Wallmaker. And in my experience, she's never been wrong."

A worker called for Malfas, and with a final nod he walked away. Mulling over the strange conversation, Tirelle was forced to agree with the bearded Wallmaker. She was nervous about the whole idea of creating Charter Stones. Such a thing had never been done before, creating a single channel through which all Charter Mages could access the Charter. It sounded very complicated, risky, and downright dangerous. But she also had to agree that Ghidreth was more than competent, and seemed to know what she was doing. And if the Bright Shiners are involved, the Clayr thought to herself, It can't be all bad.

"Lady Tirelle!" called a voice that made the Seer close her eyes and suppress a heavy sigh. She turned with an insincere smile, to see Abhorsen and Malia making their way over to her, hand-in-hand. "Well, what do you think?" the young man asked jubilantly. "Doesn't my wife look beautiful?"

"Pregnant women often acquire a sort of glow about them", Tirelle said neutrally.

Malia gave the Clayr a shy smile. "You've had many children, so Gabriel tells me", she began hesitantly. "If you wouldn't mind… I would feel so much better if you were with me when… when it happens."

Both Tirelle and Abhorsen stared at her, utterly stunned.

"I – I'm not exactly a close friend", the Seer stammered. "It would be unseemly –"

"Of course it wouldn't", Malia insisted, eyes wide. "My mother died a long time ago, and Gabriel is an orphan. Some of my friends have agreed to come, but they've never had children before. I would feel so much safer if there was somebody who actually knows what it's like."

"I couldn't possibly", replied Tirelle, feeling herself blush. How could she explain that she absolutely hated this woman's husband? From the panicky expression on Abhorsen's face, it seemed as though he too was trying to think of a way to get her out of this awkward situation.

"She is the Clayr, beloved", Abhorsen put in quickly. "She has a serious job to do, working for the King."

The young woman's face fell. "Oh. I see."

Tirelle felt so sorry for the young woman, that before she knew it she heard herself saying, "I will try to be here."

The expectant mother's face lit up radiantly, just as her husband's darkened. At the first possible moment, he drew the Seer aside.

"So", the necromancer said plainly, crossing his arms.

"So", Tirelle replied, rolling her eyes. "It looks as though we'll just have to get along."

Abhorsen bit his lip, then reluctantly extended his hand. "I am sorry for teasing you about having so many children. Right now, your knowledge is going to be invaluable to Malia."

The Clayr clasped his hand firmly. "And I apologize for making fun of your bachelorhood. You proved me wrong by marrying a lovely woman."

"Truce?" the young man asked, raising a dark eyebrow.

Tirelle smiled brightly. "Truce."

A/N: Next up: the creation of the Charter Stones. Until then, all reviews are welcome!