Emmaline watched the glowing map as she placed it down on the table. It was some sort of arcane orary, and maybe the best chance they had to read the map. As she watched the ink seemed to run, the map growing slowly three dimensional, showed a vast expanse of desert, she recognized Copher and felt her view flying east as though dragged by vast wings, soaring over canyons and past oasis until it arrived at a great city of black stone and sparkling gold, mostly sunk into the sand. As quickly as it had appeared the ink seemed to swirl into the air leaving the parchment bare and empty. The ink suddenly flowed onto her sliding beneath her skin without pain but with a queasy feeling before slowing and stilling until an intricate tracery of strange symbols seemed tattooed from her shoulder to her wrist. 

Emmaline opened her mouth and squealed as figures appeared at the top of the stairs. Bronze soldiers, perfectly life like just like the servants below began to march down the steps. Moving jerkily but with razor sharp scimitars glinting. She yelped in fear and turned only to see the bronze servants climbing up behind them to cut off there escape. The unconscious apprentice might have been a bumbling fool, but these enchantments were dazzling and far beyond her ability to understand.  The master of this Tower was clearly no mere dabbler. She backed quickly towards Amal, eyes darting wildly this way and that.

“Uhhhh, I’m open to suggestions,” she told the thief as she felt her rump bump against the wall of the tower.