“Blood runes? With Kire’s blood?” Elva asked, brows raised. Narda, too, looked at Kire with a frown. Daryll was the only one who didn’t look surprised at this, though he did glance at Kire before shifting his focus back to Ruli. 
	“Nothing’s ever as simple with blood runes and magic,” Daryll pointed out. “And languages have their own kind of power. Also, it’s one thing to cast a protection ward and a ward to keep one person in place, but what I have in mind is quite another.”
	“To be fair, the gate was very powerful, and combine that with the portal siphoning off it, you’re dealing with a lot of power to contain,” Kire interjected, “whatever you might have in mind, those wards were pretty effective.”

Daryll tapped the table, thinking it over. “It’s—a little crazy.” Kire narrowed her eyes at him for a moment but held her tongue. “How big a net can those wards cast? Theoretically, can you stretch them over a whole city block?”
	Kire’s lips parted. “What?” 
	“Say, the size of a castle, the castle grounds, and any structure within it?” 
	“Are—are you asking if you can put a whole ward in the middle of the Capital? Around the Palace?” 
	“Here me out,” Daryll said; his expression already said he knew how crazy this was, and likely would get crazier, “a ward that counters whatever magic protection they’ve put in, or cancels out whatever enchantments they’d have put in place. Your portals seem strongest around the Red Tower: you don’t get dizzy when you’re there, plus there’s the Seer’s Chamber. It seems like the Tower itself is a conduit to dormant magic, like your Ring. Put up a ward, with the Red tower closing the circuit.”
	“Oh you’re right, that sounds [i]less[/i]crazy the first time you said it,” Kire grumbled, though she couldn’t help but think it over. “Tell me that’s crazy,” she said to Ruli.