“Our answer to the Grey Pilgrim,” I said.

In a sardonic bit of humour Akua had actually built it to look like a wishing well, though one held up above the floor by four curved supports of lead. Lead, I had learned from my recent studies, held strong properties of stability and grounding if never touched by fire. Held up by those supports was a disc of polished onyx, and from that bottom rose the shape of a well. Shards of obsidian bound together by thin strands of copper – there was, allegedly, no better metal for bridging – made up a glittering octagon, though several large swaths of the side were still empty. Above the well itself, two slender pillars of amethyst-studded copper held up a quaint little angled roof. The roof itself was made of the same obsidian-and-copper assembly as the well, though compared to the octagon the progress made in filling it was farther along. Unsurprising: every shard from the well contained the full exertion of a Mighty’s Night from dusk till dawn, but the roof held only the same by sigil-holders.

“At this pace, the main body will be finished within seven nights,” Diabolist said. “The upper receptacles-”

“Roof,” I drily said. “She means roof.”

“- will take within twenty to thirty nights,” she finished, as if I had never spoken. “Though the artefact itself will be functional after the upper receptacles are half-filled, which will be achieved two dawns from now.”

“Won’t be as strong, though,” I said.

“Which would only be an issue if you meant to directly oppose a foe’s miracles,” Akua said.

...

“And what does it do?” Adjutant asked.

I began moving forward, then suddenly stopped. My staff had begun to pulse, the Night I had woven within beckoned by Akua’s much more complex creation. Unwilling to risk the power still sleeping inside, I propped it up against the side of the tent and limped forward instead. Hakram extended an arm without a word, and I gratefully leaned on it. Fingers tracing the obsidian of the roof, I drew his attention to three symbols in Crepuscular carved on the frame. They reappeared in the patterns, over and over again.

...

I ran my thumb against the three symbols. One did not need to know Crepuscular, to glimpse their meaning, for the written language of the drow could sometimes be of obvious meanings. The sun rampant, the sun halved, the sun veiled.

- Book 5, Chapter 20: Bearings