He almost turns to follow that gesture. The flickering desire to see drives the faintest—

But he checks the impulse. He doesn't need to look. Instead his eye is drawn naturally to the shifting of that ring on Kirigan's finger. Some muted light dances on the surface of the metal, snatches of it living between the shade of the General's hand.

"The working of all magic requires concentration," he says after a moment. When he glances away, it's down the length of the covered walkway rather than out. Rather than into the garden or toward the specter shape of a distant thing. "It's possible you need only apply yourself."