Pegasus Part 6

To everyone's surprise but her father's, Sylvi was able to make suggestions about how the village witches might be included in the planning and the defences: several of her best interviewees about village magic were from the Kishes. The engineers blinked at the idea of asking a local wart-charmer and love-potion-mixer for advice about choosing wood and stone most likely to resist interference-a ladon in a temper might well be able to pull a bridge down-but Sylvi would bet on old Marigale or young Vant's knowledge of their own neighbourhoods, perhaps even against a ladon, and said so. Firmly. The engineer, Sasko, who had said that it was the worst year for taralians he'd ever seen, smiled faintly and said, "You are very like your father, lady. I know Marigale. I will ask."

She wondered what the pegasi thought about the increasing numbers of sightings of their old enemies in the human lowlands. It seemed to her that Lrrianay never went home any more-that he was always standing by her father's chair at council now. She didn't talk to Ebon about taralians and norindours and ladons, or about the rivers of the Kish Mountains-or about the flickering Sword. And he didn't tell her what he did when they weren't together-and she didn't ask. She had discovered that talking to Ebon seemed to happen in the busy, front part of her mind. It was hard to keep anything she was excited about from him, but something she didn't want to think about was easy to keep to herself. She a.s.sumed it was the same for him-but she didn't ask that either.

She and Ebon ran away from it all as much as they could. They went flying.

It bothered them both, being deliberately disobedient: once, that first night, after their binding, was an adventure; as a habit it felt bad and wrong and sad. But it also felt bad and wrong and sad that they had been forbidden to do something both felt was bred into them, bone and blood: like forbidding a fleethound from running, or a hawk from stooping on its prey. Sylvi didn't know why it should feel urgent or imperative to Ebon-and had begun by a.s.suming, desolately, that it didn't. But by the time she had sc.r.a.ped enough courage together to ask him (braced for him to say that actually it was was rather a burden, whereupon she would have to refuse ever to go flying with him again), she knew him well enough to know that he was telling her the truth when he said flying with her was a whole other thing-a whole new thing-that he wouldn't miss it for anything. rather a burden, whereupon she would have to refuse ever to go flying with him again), she knew him well enough to know that he was telling her the truth when he said flying with her was a whole other thing-a whole new thing-that he wouldn't miss it for anything.

She would have been happy to leave it there. That she didn't have to stop flying was the next best thing that had ever happened to her-the best thing after Ebon himself-even better than having gone flying in the first place.

But he was still trying to explain something. I don't see the stuff you see. I- I don't see the stuff you see. I- He paused, whirled his ears, flattened his nose, hunched one wing, and said, He paused, whirled his ears, flattened his nose, hunched one wing, and said, You're going to make me the greatest sculptor who ever lived-or at least the oddest. Because of the stuff you see-because of talking to you about it. No pegasus sees ... sees the You're going to make me the greatest sculptor who ever lived-or at least the oddest. Because of the stuff you see-because of talking to you about it. No pegasus sees ... sees the relationships relationships of things the way you do. We can build an arch with a keystone-but we could never have built the palace. And that's not about strength, it's about seeing. All those walls leaning on each other, stacked on each other.... And those funny little landscape thingummies that are all over the palace-they're-they're . . . they're stranger than you are, you humans. of things the way you do. We can build an arch with a keystone-but we could never have built the palace. And that's not about strength, it's about seeing. All those walls leaning on each other, stacked on each other.... And those funny little landscape thingummies that are all over the palace-they're-they're . . . they're stranger than you are, you humans.

Of course you don't understand them, said Sylvi. said Sylvi. You don't have to think about it-what things look like from overhead. You can fly. We think about it too much because-because you can fly. You don't have to think about it-what things look like from overhead. You can fly. We think about it too much because-because you can fly.

Okay. But if you flew and we didn't, we wouldn't make the thingummies.

Perhaps the difference began in the way they smiled. Ebon said it wasn't only himself among the pegasi who found that meat-eating humans choosing to bare their teeth when they smiled made you wonder what their real motives were.

I can't help it! said Sylvi. said Sylvi. I smile like that because that's what my mouth does! I smile like that because that's what my mouth does!

Sylvi had tried to feel the Alliance as she felt the binding between her and Ebon, or as she felt her love for her parents and her brothers-or the slightly anxious deferential respect she felt for Ahathin or Diamon, or even the nameless connection she felt for her land and her people: the sense of something crucially there there, not only all around her but in her, even when it maddened or frustrated her (as her brothers often did). But she didn't. She never had. It hadn't bothered her before she met Ebon: the pegasi were part of the background of life in the palace, part of the general seethe of motion and urgency-as real, or as unreal, as the crowned pegasus on the royal banner, or the mural of Fralialal. But the real pegasi flew. Every thought about them began and ended there: they were beautiful and strange-and intimidating-they were the symbol of Balsinland's existence-and they flew flew.

Danacor hadn't agreed with the intimidating, but Garren had."Oh, minikin, you're so right. Lrrianay isn't so bad, but that gang that comes with him for the big state occasions-Dossaya and Gaaloo and that lot-and Fhwen-especially Fhwen. The way she looks looks at you." at you."

Sylvi asked Ebon later, What's Fhwen like? She's very ... imposing. What's Fhwen like? She's very ... imposing.

Ebon had laughed his snorty laugh. You mean she looks like a pompous half-wit. You mean she looks like a pompous half-wit.

A beautiful pompous half-wit who can fly, Sylvi amended to herself.

No, she's a sweetie really. It runs in the family: she looks just like her dad, and her daughter looks just like her. They'd all give you their last feather if you were cold.

She'd had to tell Garren. She'd almost made him promise not to mention their conversation to Poih, when she realised he couldn't. And it wasn't the sort of thing you'd ask your Speaker to say for you. Human people often looked different than you found out they were too: Lord Ranruth, for example, one of her father's councillors, whom she'd been terrified of when she was little, because he was always wearing a scowl. The scowl was short-sightedness: as soon as you got close enough, his big round face broke into an enormous smile. If people and pegasi were different from the way they appeared, mightn't their Alliance be different too?

Different how? Why was there no ... no feel feel to it, this great important thing? Why did it seem no more than a silken representation on a banner, this thing that Balsin had called the foundation upon which their country was built? And that made magicians central to their lives? How could it hearten you when you couldn't to it, this great important thing? Why did it seem no more than a silken representation on a banner, this thing that Balsin had called the foundation upon which their country was built? And that made magicians central to their lives? How could it hearten you when you couldn't feel feel it? it?

She'd asked her father shortly after the awful morning that had resulted in Fthoom's being given his charge, if Fthoom was likely to do it, well, honestly. honestly.

The king made a snorting, humming noise rather like a pegasus laugh. "No. But I've a.s.signed him a huge number of helpers, which will, I hope, go some little way toward softening the blow of my stripping him from his position in my court and, at the same time, make it harder for him not not to do what I asked him to do." The king looked bleakly into the empty air for a moment and addd, " The sad thing is that I've meant for years-for most of my working life as king-to set that task. Why aren't there more stories about friendship between human and pegasus? Even your favourite, Erisika, isn't quoted much beyond that they fought together as why she considered Dlaiali a friend. But there has never seemed to be the time and the people to do it." to do what I asked him to do." The king looked bleakly into the empty air for a moment and addd, " The sad thing is that I've meant for years-for most of my working life as king-to set that task. Why aren't there more stories about friendship between human and pegasus? Even your favourite, Erisika, isn't quoted much beyond that they fought together as why she considered Dlaiali a friend. But there has never seemed to be the time and the people to do it."

Sylvi had done a quick intensive study of how to avoid Fthoom. This was made easier by the fact he never went anywhere without an entourage, and by the fact that he had the sort of mind that believed that doing something the same way added to his consequence, so he always always used the king's library's west portal, which was, of course, the grandest. The drawback was that the king's library was also the country's largest and grandest library, so he rarely went to any others, allotting any searching, fetching and carrying tasks to his staff. Before the day of her binding Sylvi had learnt to like finding books in the library-you often found other interesting ones on the way to the one you were looking for-but since the day after her binding she preferred to send messages, like her father, and have the material she wanted brought to her. used the king's library's west portal, which was, of course, the grandest. The drawback was that the king's library was also the country's largest and grandest library, so he rarely went to any others, allotting any searching, fetching and carrying tasks to his staff. Before the day of her binding Sylvi had learnt to like finding books in the library-you often found other interesting ones on the way to the one you were looking for-but since the day after her binding she preferred to send messages, like her father, and have the material she wanted brought to her.

The queen one day told her that Fthoom had submitted an interim report saying that the work was going well- "Which means he hasn't found anything," Sylvi interrupted. "He's not going to find anything because he is determined not to find anything! He doesn't want there to be any record of real communication-real friendship-between humans and pegasi!"

"No, he doesn't, but if his committee finds such a record, it will be reported," said the queen. "And don't forget Cory and Lrrianay-your and Ebon's relationship may be unprecedented, but friendship between bondmates is not."

"Dad said he's always wanted to appoint a commission to do what Fthoom is doing now, and it had never been the right time," said Sylvi.

"So there," said the queen. "We're getting some use out of Fthoom after all."

Sylvi tried to smile.

"It will be all right, love," said the queen."Remember that the longer it takes Fthoom to find nothing-because I'm afraid I agree he probably will find nothing; if there were anything, it would be a favourite bedtime story, not to mention the basis of dozens of plays and hundreds of ballads-the longer Fthoom takes to find nothing, the more used our people will have become to seeing you and Ebon together. The more normal and ordinary it will be."

It ought to be very normal and ordinary by now, thought Sylvi a little wryly. She and Ebon were very popular guests at fairs and fetes and festivals and, with Fthoom on everyone at the palace's minds, she and Ebon were encouraged to accept as many (carefully screened) invitations as they could bear to. Since Ebon reported that his family felt the same way, they accepted a lot of invitations. Ebon was much better about these occasions than she was. I keep telling you-they aren't my people. It's easier for me. I keep telling you-they aren't my people. It's easier for me.

They went with an entourage-just like Fthoom, Sylvi thought without humour. Occasionally, for a very grand one, she wore a frock and rode in a carriage, but usually she and Ahathin and at least one of her attendant guards, plus up to a dozen a.s.sorted aides and escorts all travelled on horseback, and Sylvi would pull a princessy tunic over her riding clothes when they arrived. (She also learned to bring a dog-brush on the chance that a hound or two or three would be found to have followed them and could be tidied up to join their company.) Ebon would meet them there-with at least one pegasus attendant of his own, sometimes two or three; and they would be wearing a few flowers or a few ribbons, or especially vivid examples of the little embroidered bags around their necks that the pegasi often wore. Sylvi's pony grew very fond of Ebon and would neigh when he saw him, and Ebon would whuffle at him in a way Sylvi found very like the way she would make a conversation out of "Good dog, what what a good dog, there's a good dog, stand still so I can get the knots out, a good dog, there's a good dog, stand still so I can get the knots out, what what have you been rolling in?" have you been rolling in?"

Pegasi looked almost more like four-legged birds, standing next to horses. Their necks were longer and their bodies shorter in comparison, their ribs tremendously widesprung for lung s.p.a.ce and their shoulders broad for wing muscles, but tapering away behind to almost nothing; their bellies tucked up like sighthounds', although there were deep lines of muscle on their hindquarters. Their legs seemed as slender as gra.s.s stems, and the place where the head met the neck was so delicate a child's hands could ring it; they moved as if they weighed nothing at all, as if they might float away, even without spreading their wings.

And no human could ever take their eyes off a pegasus' wings.

Sylvi and Ebon's entourage stayed watchfully nearby, but the two of them were the centre of attention. All the little children wanted to pet Ebon-Ebon put up with this with unimpaired good humour, while Sylvi tried not to let it show that she felt it was an impertinence, which she did. Not from the children, but from their parents-didn't they know you weren't supposed to touch the pegasi? No one ever offered to stroke any pegasus who had come with Ebon-but Ebon was not only the one out in front with the princess Sylviianel, he was also a terrible flirt. He would put his head down till he was eye to eye with a toddler who was smiling and waving at him, and then tap its cheek or its nose with one of his feather-hands. If one too small to walk on its own screamed in excitement and bounced up and down in its parent's arms he would very likely stamp a foot (gently) and go "eeeeeeeee" "eeeeeeeee" back at it. He even gave pony rides to the littlest. The first few times this happened, all the human eyes within range nearly stood out on stalks-the rule about not riding pegasi apparently back at it. He even gave pony rides to the littlest. The first few times this happened, all the human eyes within range nearly stood out on stalks-the rule about not riding pegasi apparently had had filtered comprehensively through the entire population. filtered comprehensively through the entire population.

Just lift the kid up there and stop fussing, he'd said the first time. he'd said the first time. Only the tiniest, mind. n.o.body big enough to break a feather if they get too thrilled and start kicking, that's the rule. Only the tiniest, mind. n.o.body big enough to break a feather if they get too thrilled and start kicking, that's the rule.

After that their invitations came even more often. The most pressing, Sylvi noticed, seemed to be from towns where the mayors and sheriffs and head councillors-and fete organisers-had children or grandchildren old enough to sit up but too young to kick very hard.

But then something else happened. The older children-and far too many adults, who should have been old enough to know better-began to ask her to ask Ebon questions. Maybe it was the petting and the pony rides. The first time it happened Sylvi was so nonplussed she simply did-the question was so harmless ("What is your favourite colour?"), and the young woman who asked it was obviously trying to make some kind of friendly contact with the pegasus who had been kind to her children-twins, about a year old, and they'd each had a pony ride. And the woman looked so tired-too tired to remember explicit royal prohibitions-and so grateful. And perhaps Ebon's answer ("The colour of the sky at dawn over the mountain called Cuandoia when we're in the lower meadows. It's best in autumn when we're harvesting the llyri llyri gra.s.s for the winter") sounded a little too mystical, "mystical" not being a word anyone who knew him would apply to Ebon. But the king's ban against questions, Sylvi and her attendants bemusedly realised, had been translated into "no political questions": no questions about kings and treaties and government. And magicians. But the people had decided that Ebon was some kind of oracle. gra.s.s for the winter") sounded a little too mystical, "mystical" not being a word anyone who knew him would apply to Ebon. But the king's ban against questions, Sylvi and her attendants bemusedly realised, had been translated into "no political questions": no questions about kings and treaties and government. And magicians. But the people had decided that Ebon was some kind of oracle.

The king, when this was reported to him, himself looked nonplussed and bemused, and then started to laugh. "Why should I have thought it was a simple, straightforward proscription? No questions. How can that be misinterpreted? Very well. I am willing to leave this to your judgement, Sylvi. Keep Ahathin close to you; he'll intercede if you need him to-if you're the least bit uncertain, let him do so. And come tell me about it afterwards."

"And-Sylvi-try to remember not to wander around with your fingers curled in Ebon's mane, will you? I realise that the-er-pony rides have confused the issue, but I did say something about behaving no differently than any other bound pair. The tradition of no physical contact is as old as the Alliance, and the casualness of your behaviour is disrespectful."

If he were really cross he would call her Sylviianel, but he was right and she knew it. It was mostly comfort, having her hand in Ebon's mane, especially on fete days when everyone was looking at them-and it was so easy to put it back there after she'd lifted a little rider down. But there was showing off in it too. "Yes, my sir," she said.

"Good," he said.

The pegasi weren't that uncommon, even outside the palace-even outside the Wall. It was true that they mostly stayed in their own lands, but-Sylvi knew this from her father, but Ebon had told her the same thing-they felt humans needed to see them, and so they made a point of flying over all parts of the country, even the ones farthest from either the palace or their own territory, and stopping to graze and drink at meadows and streams near towns and villages. They never quite grasped human land ownership, and on at least one memorable occasion during Corone IV's mother's reign, a small group of pegasi had settled down for a mouthful and a nap on a piece of ground so hotly disputed that no human had set foot on it for a decade. But they knew to stay out of standing crops, because they raised crops themselves.

Any fete or festival big or important enough to host a member of the royal or any baronial family would expect the bound pegasus to attend also; as the presence of the pegasi at the palace was known to promote the welfare of the country, the presence of a pegasus or two at a fete was believed to contribute to the success of the occasion, especially if it were an occasion like a spring or a harvest festival. And there were the open court days at the palace, and occasional parades, all of which would feature pegasi. But ordinary people seemed as stirred at the idea of being able really to talk to a pegasus as Sylvi herself was-which she could understand. Perhaps it was this that had transformed itself into a hope that the pegasi could answer private questions the interlocutors couldn't answer themselves merely because such questions weren't about kings and treaties and governments.

Some of the questions weren't difficult. The little girl with the grey-and-black zurcat in her arms wants to know if it will have any spotted kittens. The little girl with the grey-and-black zurcat in her arms wants to know if it will have any spotted kittens. Spotted zurcats always had spotted kittens. Spotted zurcats always had spotted kittens. If it's pregnant it will, If it's pregnant it will, replied Ebon with perfect logic. replied Ebon with perfect logic.

Sometimes she was surprised at the things the pegasi knew, and wondered why humans hadn't worked harder to learn some of them. Ebon was very good on weather, for example, and certain aspects of farming. No, he doesn't want to put veer in this year, it's going to be a hard winter, it'll be too cold to grow. Djee would be better-you humans use djee, don't you?-it thinks a good snow layer is warm and comfy. No, he doesn't want to put veer in this year, it's going to be a hard winter, it'll be too cold to grow. Djee would be better-you humans use djee, don't you?-it thinks a good snow layer is warm and comfy. Maybe the Speakers' Guild wasn't very interested in farming. Maybe the Speakers' Guild wasn't very interested in farming.

She'd learnt early on not to ask him the truly oracular ones. The big good-looking girl wearing the red scarf wants to know whether she should marry the blacksmith or the baker. The big good-looking girl wearing the red scarf wants to know whether she should marry the blacksmith or the baker.

Tell her she should run away to sea and become a pirate.

The tall man with the scar on his cheek wants to know if the G.o.ds live on the moon.

I'll look around the next time I'm there.

He'll think you can fly to the moon!

He already thinks we can.

Which was probably true. But what did you do do with questions like that? She'd come storming-or rather, she'd walked perfectly calmly, but inside she was storming-from a council meeting where Senator Barnum had wished to discuss her with questions like that? She'd come storming-or rather, she'd walked perfectly calmly, but inside she was storming-from a council meeting where Senator Barnum had wished to discuss her comportment comportment-hers and Ebon's-at their public appearances, and how they needed to appear sensible and mature. "Mature!" she'd burst out later to Ebon. Mature! And Dad and Ahathin just say that that fat tick Barnum is a citizen too and he's not the only-the only pompous pudding-head we need to remember will be doing his best to find fault! Mature! And Dad and Ahathin just say that that fat tick Barnum is a citizen too and he's not the only-the only pompous pudding-head we need to remember will be doing his best to find fault!

Ebon had unfolded and refolded a wing-whoosh snap-and shook his head violently two or three times, which was the nearest a pegasus ever came to angry: Yes. I've already had the pitch from Dad, and Gaaloo. I promise not to trample any small children or to sneeze in anyone's food. If they think we're so dangerous to concord and prosperity, why do they want us to go? Yes. I've already had the pitch from Dad, and Gaaloo. I promise not to trample any small children or to sneeze in anyone's food. If they think we're so dangerous to concord and prosperity, why do they want us to go?

After a little silence Sylvi said, You know why. You know why. Ebon made a half whuffle, half hum, that she knew from the rituals; it meant "our fate is our fate." But he added, Ebon made a half whuffle, half hum, that she knew from the rituals; it meant "our fate is our fate." But he added, That's always been a dumb line. It just means shut up and don't make trouble. Sometimes you have to make trouble. That's always been a dumb line. It just means shut up and don't make trouble. Sometimes you have to make trouble. He paused. He paused. But this isn't one of those times. Okay. But this isn't one of those times. Okay. He sighed a vast gusty sigh-the He sighed a vast gusty sigh-the vast vast gusty sigh that only a pegasus can sigh-and Sylvi rubbed his mane. And he tried to repress himself-not always successfully-and Sylvi tried to be careful what she repeated back to their human audience. gusty sigh that only a pegasus can sigh-and Sylvi rubbed his mane. And he tried to repress himself-not always successfully-and Sylvi tried to be careful what she repeated back to their human audience.

They saw magicians in the crowds sometimes-never among the people immediately around them wanting answers to their questions-but rather more often at the outskirts of those people than seemed to Sylvi at all reasonable. These were not the village witches, the little wizards, whom they often saw, and who could be expected to come to their local fetes, but the big magicians, the members of the guilds, who didn't come to little country fetes. Except that they did. Sylvi tried to tell herself that before Ebon she hadn't gone to many country fetes herself, and maybe guild magicians came to more of them than she realised. But she didn't believe it.

She rarely recognised any of them, but the magicians' robes were easy to spot-and the way ordinary people tended to leave s.p.a.ce around them. What were they watching for? What were they seeing?

What were they reporting back to Fthoom?

She thought of asking Ahathin about the number of guild magicians she saw, about why there were so many ... but couldn't think how to do so without betraying the intensity of her dislike and distrust of magic and magicians. What had still been half a joke on her twelfth birthday was, since the morning after her twelfth birthday, no joke at all. She often thought, bleakly, that all the things she most wanted to ask Ahathin because he was a magician, she could not, because he was a magician.

Ahathin himself she was glad to have beside her. Ahathin's presence-and, she had to admit, Glarfin's or Colm's or Lucretia's-made her feel braver; as her Speaker, Ahathin could whisper in her ear, even when he was saying things like "you need not answer that question" or "tell him that is a question for a judge." And most of the questions were innocuous enough-she also learnt to wait, fractionally, for any stir or startle from her entourage. She asked the questions about the pegasi themselves, like how many of them there were (Yikes. I haven't a clue. Lots. Not as many as you humans, though), or where they lived (See the mountains that start behind the far Wall of the king's palace? If you fly-er-if you walked, uh, up and down, over those mountains, Rhiandomeer begins on the other side) and if their king lived in a huge grand beautiful palace too (Yuck! No way. Who wants to be trapped in the same old stiff up-and-down walled-in thing all the time, where the sun can only come through the same holes?).

Sylvi had some trouble translating that one. Okay, it's not trampling children, Okay, it's not trampling children, she'd said crossly to Ebon, she'd said crossly to Ebon, but can't you think of a little nicer way of putting it? Your shfeeahs stay in the same place, don't they? but can't you think of a little nicer way of putting it? Your shfeeahs stay in the same place, don't they?

Sort of, said Ebon. said Ebon. But most of the walls come off or roll up or something. They're not made of stones as big as our bodies. But most of the walls come off or roll up or something. They're not made of stones as big as our bodies.

And he answered all the weather-and-crops questions. He was not good about livestock questions: If I knew what would make your wethers grow faster, I wouldn't tell you. Their lives are short enough before they go to the-the what-you -call-'em-the killer. Let them have their few months in peace. If I knew what would make your wethers grow faster, I wouldn't tell you. Their lives are short enough before they go to the-the what-you -call-'em-the killer. Let them have their few months in peace. He also knew some odd herbal remedies for things that she didn't dare pa.s.s on because neither of them had any idea whether they'd work for humans or not-although she told her mother, whose best friend was a healer ("the best friend a soldier can have," said the queen). The queen shook her head. "We'll have to ask your father." He also knew some odd herbal remedies for things that she didn't dare pa.s.s on because neither of them had any idea whether they'd work for humans or not-although she told her mother, whose best friend was a healer ("the best friend a soldier can have," said the queen). The queen shook her head. "We'll have to ask your father."

"Careful," said the king.

"Cory-" began the queen. "Dad!" "Dad!" said Sylvi at the same time. said Sylvi at the same time.

"Sylvi first, I think," said the king."Persuade me this is a worthwhile exception-another worthwhile exception-to the rule. You'll be sixteen soon enough, when everything will change, and you'll have more-" worthwhile exception-to the rule. You'll be sixteen soon enough, when everything will change, and you'll have more-"

"Of course it is!" interrupted Sylvi. "A good exception. A good exception now. now. This is the sort of thing that could make everyone This is the sort of thing that could make everyone happy happy that Ebon and I can talk to each other, if it turns out there's something we can use!" that Ebon and I can talk to each other, if it turns out there's something we can use!"

"I agree," said the king. "And I have no intention of forbidding it. You still need to realise what you're doing."

He was looking at her in a way that reminded her of Ahathin waiting for her to answer her own question. She smiled involuntarily, quickly and mirthlessly. "And perhaps we'll be grateful for a few extra friends when I turn sixteen and the Speakers' Guild tries to block Ebon and me doing any Speaker work."

"Perhaps," said the king. "But the Speakers' Guild won't block you, if that's what you decide you-and Ebon-want to do."

She looked at her father, and remembered the hatred in Fthoom's glittering eyes.

But she had her permission, and one of the remedies got the queen's friend, whose name was Nirakla, very excited. She begged for the opportunity to speak to any of the healer-shamans who were willing to speak to her, and Minial translated.

"You've thrown a rock in a pond," said the king.

"It's a good rock," Sylvi answered. "Why hasn't anyone thrown it before now?"

"Good question," said the king. "But the shamans come here very little, and those who do come stay in their annex."

I wonder what Fthoom has heard about it, she thought, but she didn't say it aloud.

Sylvi couldn't help picking at the thought of Fthoom, scratching at it like a wound that won't heal, partly because you keep scratching at it.

"Darling," said the queen, "if you don't stop fretting, I'll ask your father to give you another project. You know Hester and Damha's binding went just as it was supposed to."

"Did it?" it?"

"Do you mean we didn't tell you about the ultimatum we had from Fthoom about it? Darling, don't be silly."

Kachakon had been the Fifth Magician, and Sylvi had thought he looked uneasy, and the other magicians furtive. Hester and Damha couldn't talk to each other-but it had been a blow to Sylvi when she read relief in Hester's face after the ceremony. She might just have been relieved to have the ceremony over, but Sylvi didn't think so. She didn't think so even more when she and Ebon went up to give the new pair their congratulations, and Hester looked worried as soon as she saw Sylvi coming toward her. What, do you think it's catching? Sylvi thought irritably. But she said the correct words, and Hester said the correct words back, and then Sylvi and Ebon went away. Did Damha say anything to you? Did Damha say anything to you? said Sylvi. said Sylvi. After you said congratulations, or whatever you say. After you said congratulations, or whatever you say.

Are you kidding? She was too busy being overcome. We're famous, you know.

What? Oh, leave me alone.

Ebon looked at her sidelong. No, I don't like it either. No, I don't like it either.

But at that moment Lady Denovol came up to them and begged the favour of being allowed to present her son to them. The son was about Sylvi's age, and looked even more miserable at being faced with Sylvi and Ebon than Hester had, and his pegasus seemed to be trying to hide behind Lady Denovol's. The older pegasus stepped smartly aside and swung her head round in a gesture that needed no translation : move it, you. move it, you. Sylvi used this as an excuse not to reply as she made her bow to the son and he bowed back. She didn't catch his name. Sylvi used this as an excuse not to reply as she made her bow to the son and he bowed back. She didn't catch his name.

CHAPTER 8.

The next day was a beautiful one, and she and Ebon were together. Ebon was at the palace more than any other pegasi but Lrrianay and Thowara, but he had to go home sometimes, and he'd been gone nearly a fortnight before returning three days ago in time for Hester and Damha's binding. They had had lessons to do in the morning, but it was afternoon now. Sylvi half sat, half lay with her head on Ebon's shoulder and the tip of his half-open wing negligently across her lap. There was gra.s.s under them, and trees nearby if the sun grew too warm, or more wing if Sylvi felt chilly, and the smell of flowers drifted over them. This had used to be enough-especially after they had been separated-especially when their next public appearance wasn't till the day after tomorrow-especially when they'd gone flying two nights in a row. This had used to be enough, before they'd been to too many fetes, and been asked too many questions that only a real oracle could answer. Before their cousins had found them intimidating because they were famous. Before it was that much sooner till Fthoom presented his findings.

But she and Ebon had had almost four years of flying together-glorious, intoxicating flying. How they had remained undiscovered Sylvi had no idea, only that it was one more thing she would not think about. Ebon could do almost anything with her lying along his back that he could without her, and while his family teased him about the muscles he had developed-his nickname was Whyhrihriha, Whyhrihriha, which meant Stone-Carrier-and occasionally one of his brothers or his sister called him a cart-horse, so far as either he or Sylvi could tell, no one thought any more about it. which meant Stone-Carrier-and occasionally one of his brothers or his sister called him a cart-horse, so far as either he or Sylvi could tell, no one thought any more about it.

The sun was warm and she felt sleepy. She had often felt sleepy in the last four years. She and Ebon mostly managed to go flying at least one night a week when Ebon was at the palace; they made it more often when they could. But the demands on even the fourth children of kings can be considerable, and she and Ebon had become very popular. Two nights in a row was very unusual.

One week about six months after their binding, when she and Ebon had slipped off three times, and gone farther than they had before because Ebon's wings were suddenly growing stronger, she fell asleep so much that Ahathin, abetted by Lucretia, Guridon and Glarfin, decided not unreasonably that she must be ill. (Lucretia had said, "If you were a little older I'd say you were sneaking out at night to meet your lover." Sylvi held her breath: if they started keeping watch on her.... "But you don't have quite the dazzled, fatuous look of first love." Lucretia grinned. "And I haven't heard of any footpages-or any of the young stablefolk-falling asleep a lot either.") Sylvi only avoided the doctor's prescription of bed for a week by agreeing to take the most ghastly, horrible, revolting tonic the most ghastly, horrible, revolting tonic as she described it to Ebon. as she described it to Ebon. Nirakla made it! I thought she was my friend! Nirakla made it! I thought she was my friend!

She yawned. They're going to start threatening me with that unspeakable tonic again, They're going to start threatening me with that unspeakable tonic again, she said. she said. I can see it in Mum's eye. I can see it in Mum's eye.

Ebon rubbed her hair with his feather-hand: mane-rubbing among pegasi was considered comforting. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, he said. he said. Day naps aren't so unusual with us, any more than night flying is. My problem is trying to explain where I go on all these dark expeditions. Day naps aren't so unusual with us, any more than night flying is. My problem is trying to explain where I go on all these dark expeditions. Pegasi did not sleep alone: Ebon's absence would be noted every time, and would need explanation every time. Pegasi did not sleep alone: Ebon's absence would be noted every time, and would need explanation every time.

It's a good thing our parents don't don't talk to each other, talk to each other, said Sylvi, said Sylvi, or somebody would have noticed I'm sleepy the days after you've been flying at night. or somebody would have noticed I'm sleepy the days after you've been flying at night.

Eah, said Ebon. said Ebon. Dad's pretty okay about it. But Gaaloo and Striaha and Dossaya and . . . well, several of the rest not only notice but have to talk about it. Dad's pretty okay about it. But Gaaloo and Striaha and Dossaya and . . . well, several of the rest not only notice but have to talk about it.

But you had that brilliant idea, she said, shifting her position so she could rub his mane. she said, shifting her position so she could rub his mane.

It was brilliant, wasn't it? said Ebon, not quite smugly. said Ebon, not quite smugly. There started off what looked like a big commotion about it, did I tell you? Because we don't do human stuff in the Caves. But my master spoke up for my idea, saying that the land wasn't human, that we used to live on it ourselves a long time ago before the taralians came, and then Dad started wittering about how this could strengthen the Alliance and . . . well, the rest of'em listened There started off what looked like a big commotion about it, did I tell you? Because we don't do human stuff in the Caves. But my master spoke up for my idea, saying that the land wasn't human, that we used to live on it ourselves a long time ago before the taralians came, and then Dad started wittering about how this could strengthen the Alliance and . . . well, the rest of'em listened, he finished. Sylvi wondered what he wasn't telling her, but she wouldn't ask; both of them knew that each protected the other from some of the fuss their friendship produced among the grown-ups. He hurried on: And I'm making sketches, which is pretty unusual. You don't get to make your own sketches till you've been an apprentice forever. And I'm making sketches, which is pretty unusual. You don't get to make your own sketches till you've been an apprentice forever.

Sylvi tried not to be jealous. Ahathin and her father were pleased with Sylvi's work on rivers, dams and bridges, but it wasn't like it had been her own idea. Ebon wanted to be a sculptor more than anything-he'd never admitted it, but Sylvi was sure that the reason he'd tried to escape being bound was that he knew it would interfere with his chances at being accepted for apprenticeship. But Ebon had told his father after his-his and Sylvi's-third night flight that he wanted to work toward doing something about the landscape of the palace grounds at night. My master did say I had to focus. But he didn't tell me what I had to focus on. The funny thing is that no one has done this before. My master did say I had to focus. But he didn't tell me what I had to focus on. The funny thing is that no one has done this before.

Not so funny maybe, said Sylvi. said Sylvi. How many sculptors are bound to humans? And it's only you bound pegasi who ever come to the palace much. It's like Nirakla talking to your shamans. Funny. Not funny. How many sculptors are bound to humans? And it's only you bound pegasi who ever come to the palace much. It's like Nirakla talking to your shamans. Funny. Not funny.

Hmmmh. I think my master has only been here when your dad was crowned.

Well then. Sylvi wasn't sure what exactly Ebon wanted to do with the night landscape they flew over, only that, if he succeeded in becoming a sculptor, he would some day begin to carve some of it into a piece of wall somewhere in the Caves; and, later still, his apprentices would help him. Sylvi wasn't sure what exactly Ebon wanted to do with the night landscape they flew over, only that, if he succeeded in becoming a sculptor, he would some day begin to carve some of it into a piece of wall somewhere in the Caves; and, later still, his apprentices would help him.