The university in Markham petitions Riftwatch for assistance in the transfer and ordering of a collection of newly-recovered sketches and unfinished works of a Marcher artist Ellis has never heard of. It's a straightforward task: collect the works from Ostwick, and accompany them to Markham to assist in the unpacking. There is to be a showing, some event where Markham society gathers to admire and perhaps donate for the privilege of viewing the works before anyone else has a chance.

Between them, Leander is here to deal with the material. Ellis is here to be of assistance in the event Leander and the artwork is attacked on the road. Or perhaps to do the heavy lifting. He certainly isn't here because of any expertise, other than a few quiet expressions of admiration during the loading of the cart.

"Is the work any good?" Ellis asks, as they jolt along the road. It's bitingly cold, though Ellis seems largely unbothered by it apart from the red of his cheeks and fingers where they hold the reins.