"Suren," the man offers by way of introduction, and clasps Steven's hand. "I'm sorry you're in the Camp under these circumstances. Or at all. But it is a stroke of luck."

He reaches over to unlatch the gate.

"Aunt Hala was an enchanter, you see. Mostly minor items, little utilities. Self-mending clothing, self-filling canteens, that sort of thing. But she never met an organization system she was willing to use. The hardest part about packing away her belongings is sorting the magical from the mundane."