They stopped for the night at the first true waystation of the Pass, a place Thallian thought was even more impressively built than the Pass itself. The main structure of the place was carved out of the stone of a mountainside, encompassing multiple stories of, he was told, several rooms each. There was even a barn beside it, also carved from the side of the mountain. Somehow, there also seemed to be gardens on ledges along the wall of the mountain on the opposite side of the road, behind where the wagons were parked under guard.

"They're fed by water from the mountain and the waste collected by the waystation," Paxton explained when he saw where Thallian's gaze was directed. "And I don't just mean from the animals. In a place like this, very little is truly wasted."

Thallian tried not to dwell on that as he helped get the horses into the barn, where they were supplied with forage and water. He'd helped throw the waste of the sheep and goats on the gardens at home, but he never considered doing the same with the waste from the house. Having a sewage system had resulted in him never needing to consider it. After what Paxton had told him about the lack of sewers in the Pass, he supposed it wasn't unreasonable to expect the people here to make use of what they could. 

After the horses were settled, Thallian followed Paxton into the main structure of the waystation. The main room was brightly lit with glowing crystal orbs he had never seen before.

"What are those lights?" he asked, puzzled by the lack of obvious flame inside them.

"Magic," Paxton replied simply. "It's too difficult to manage smoke from fires while inside of a mountain, so flameless lights are used. Much safer, if more expensive initially. Better than hauling in timber to fuel the fires in the long run, though. Only fires here are cooking fires. Magic in the walls distributes that heat throughout the structure in winter."

Thallian shook his head and gazed around the room. For all his father's fear of dangerous magic, all he had seen since leaving home was the good magic could do and how it could improve travel and commerce. He would have expected his father, business man that he was, to see the advantages of it at least to some degree.

As he looked around him he noticed that some of the other travelers were settling in at the tables around the room. The space wasn't all that different from the inn where they had stayed before entering the Pass, except that everything was made of stone, aside from the tables and chairs. And, of course, there was no hearth. A minstrel was beginning to tune her lute in one corner of the room.

"Food will be out shortly!" a woman called from where a bar was built from the wall at the back of the room. "Take a seat. Pay up to eat up!"

Two women who appearing only slightly older than Thallian were moving about the room, from table to table. After talking to each table's occupants and putting the money they gave them in their apron pockets, they placed small green blocks in the center of each table. Thallian assumed it was to designate those who had "paid up" and could be served when the meal was ready. He didn't get to ask Paxton, because he was already walking across the room to the woman behind the bar. Thallian hurried to follow.

"Ah, Paxton," she said with a smile. She was an older woman with graying hair and squinting eyes. "Good to see you. You've brought my order of fine cheese, I take it."

Paxton nodded. "I did. I have some help this time, but another hand would be welcome."

She turned from the bar and called through the door behind her, "Lark!"

A boy about Thallian's age appeared, hurriedly wiping his hands on the apron he wore over his simple shirt and trousers. "Yes, ma?"

"Kindly help good Paxton here bring in our cheese. We will need it for the breakfast tomorrow." She turned back to Paxton and added, "Your timing is excellent. We are nearly out of the cheese. Had a bit of a rat problem last month. They like the stuff as much as we and our guests do. Don't worry. We dealt with the rats immediately and they have long since ceased to be an issue. Made sure we got a cat to replace the one we lost over the winter and that seems to have done the trick."

"I don't doubt that one bit," Paxton assured her.

Lark helped them to bring the order of cheese to the kitchen of the waystation, which was quite warm and bustling with the final preparations for dinner for the travelers. Once the delivery was complete, they were seated at a table near the bar, given a green block for their table, and offered drinks.

Paxton set a book of accounts, a quill, and a bottle of ink on the table beside him. He opened the book and made several notations before telling Thallian, "Eat and drink what you'd like. It will come out of what we are paid before we leave tomorrow."

Only the thought of his mother's comfort and Paxton's reputation held Thallian back from ordering every drink the waystation provided simply to spite his father. There were other people who had been pulled into their conflict and he couldn't cause them any harm.

He would certainly have a drink, though.