That surprised a laugh out of him, even as his eye snagged on an...irregularity in the land ahead.

Cautiously, he approached the ragged edge where the formal garden formed a uneasy border with what seemed to be a crack in the land.

The edge of the old mine pit? Aelliana wondered.

"So it would seem. We have not been an exact match, which should surprise no one."

He felt the ripple of her laughter as he approached the irregularity, wary of sinkholes and disturbed rocks.

The space that separated the land that had accompanied Jelaza Kazone and native Surebleak dirt was not wide-- even an elderly, desk-bound scholar might easily make the leap-- nor was it particularly deep, perhaps extending to a depth matching Daav's height. It had been Edger's avowed intent to plant house and tree firmly, whereupon the Tree, so it had said, would see to the rooting of things.

In time, the gully between the worlds would fill, Daav thought, nor was the pit into which they had been settled a wound of Korval's making. Still, it might be best to begin their tenure here with healing. And one would not like to think of a child, or an unwary adult, or a rabbit, tumbling into the crack and taking harm.

Daav raised his head.

The land across the divide had the look of being tended and worked, for all its lack of crisp lines and the busy flashings of monitors. His eye marked out rows, newly raked, and there, leaning against a wizened tree bearing some small, pink fruits along its twisted branches, the rake itself.

...beyond the rake, tucked not-quite-behind the trunk, obscured by the branches, was a man. A long, thin man, with a cap pulled low over a brown face. Dark blonde hair stuck out around the cap, like straw out of a hay-rick. An eye gleamed in the shadows; blinked.