Windhaven

Then his eyes snapped back to her, and the smile changed, subtly, a small twist at the corners, and now he was smiling for Maris and the smile was full of derision and hostility. "I haven't thanked you for naming me," he said. "I was so happy when you said I could fly with you."

"Val," Maris said wearily, "we may not like each other, but we have a long flight to make together. You could at least try to be civil. Don't mock me. Are you going to pack?"

"I've never unpacked," he said. "I'll give my bag to Sena, and wear my knife. It's the only thing that matters. Don't worry, I'll be ready." He hesitated. "And I won't bother you on Skulny. When we land, I'll find my own quarters. Fair enough?"

"Val," Maris started. But he had turned away and was staring through the cell's small window at the moving, cloudy sky, his face cold and closed.

Sena brought the others out to the launching cliff to watch Maris, S'Rella, and Val depart. All of them were in the highest of spirits, laughing and joking, vying with each other for the privilege of helping Maris and S'Rella with their wings. There was a mood of wild and restless gaiety among them that was infectious; Maris felt her own spirits rise, and for the first time she was eager for the competitions.

"Let them be, let them be!" Sena cried, laughing. "They certainly can't fly with the lot of you hanging on their wings!"

"Wish they could," mumbled Kerr. He pushed at his nose, which had turned bright red in the wind.

"You'll have your chance," S'Rella said, sounding defensive.

"No one grudges you this," Leya said quickly.

"You're the best of us," Sher added.

"Save it," Sena said, putting one arm around Leya, the other around Sher. "Go now. We'll wave goodbye and meet you again on Skulny."

Maris turned to S'Rella and saw that the younger woman was watching her intently, her whole body tensed and ready for Maris' slightest signal. She remembered her own earliest flights, when she had still not quite believed that she could have wings of her own, and she touched S'Rella's shoulder and spoke to her kindly.

"We'll all stay close together and take it easy," she said. "The stunts are for the competitions — right now, we'll concentrate on steady flying. This will be a long trip for you, I know, but don't worry about it — you've got enough stamina for twice the distance. Just relax and trust yourself. I'll be there watching out for you, but you won't really need me."

"Thank you," S'Rella said. "I'll do my best."

Maris nodded and signaled, and Damen and Liane came out and unfolded her wings for her, strut by strut, pulling the bright silver fabric taut until her wings were spread twenty feet. Then she was off, leaping away from the cliff to a chorus of farewells and good wishes, into the cool, steady, faintly rain-scented flow of the wind. She circled and watched S'Rella's takeoff, trying to judge it as if S'Rella were in competition.

No doubt about it, S'Rella had improved greatly recently. The clumsiness was gone, and she did not hesitate at the edge, but sprang smoothly clear of the fortress and, having judged the wind nicely, began to rise almost at once.

"I don't believe your wings are of wood at all!" Maris called to her.

Then both of them swung through the sky in impatient, widening circles, waiting for Val.

He had been leaning against the door through all of the joking and the preparations, standing outside it all, his face blank and guarded. He was winged already, having strapped them on without help. Now he walked calmly through the group of students and would-be flyers, and stood perched on the brink of the precipice, his feet half-over the edge. Painstakingly he unfolded the first three struts, but he did not lock them into place.

Then he slid his arms through the loops, flexed, knelt, and stood again.

Damen reached to help him unfold his wings, but Val turned and said something sharp to him — Maris, circling above, lost the words in the wind — and Damen fell back in confusion.

Then Val laughed, and jumped.

S'Rella trembled visibly in the air, her wings shaking with her shock. From below, Maris heard someone scream, and someone else was swearing. Val fell, body straight like a diver's, twenty feet down, forty…

And suddenly he was falling no more — the wings came out of nowhere, flaring, flashing silver-white in the sun as they sprang open almost with their own volition. The air screamed past them, and Val caught it and turned it and rode on it, and all at once he was flying, skimming the breakers with impossible speed, then pulling up, climbing, soaring, the waves and the rocks and death all receding visibly beneath him, and Maris could hear dimly the peal of his triumphant wind-blown laughter.