Windhaven

Shalli stopped her lips with a finger. "Hush. I get enough of that from Corm. And I tell him that our little flyer has to learn about flying from the very beginning. But I am careful, truly. I took the flight slow and easy. I couldn't miss this! Corm wanted me to take a boat. Can you imagine?" Shalli's beautiful, mobile face went from one comic expression to another as she spoke.

"You're not going to compete?"

"Oh, no. It wouldn't be fair, me with the extra ballast!" She patted the small mound and laughed. "I'm to judge. And I've promised Corm that after this I'll stay home and be a good little mother 'til the baby comes, unless there's an emergency."

Maris felt a pang of guilt, knowing that the "emergencies" Shalli had to fly were caused by her own absence from Amberly. But after the competition, she swore to herself, she'd stay home and tend to her duties.

"Shalli, I'd like you to meet a friend of mine," Maris said. S'Rella was hanging back shyly, so Maris pulled her gently forward. "This is S'Rella, our most promising student. She flew here from Woodwings with me today, her longest flight so far."

"Ooh." Shalli arched her brows.

"S'Rella, this is Shalli. From Lesser Amberly, like me. She used to fly guard on me, when I was just learning how to use the wings."

They exchanged polite greetings. Then Shalli, giving S'Rella a measuring look, said, "Good luck in the competitions. You'd better not beat Corm, though. I think I'd go mad if he was around the house every day for a year."

Shalli smiled, but S'Rella seemed to take the jest in earnest. "I don't want to hurt anyone," she said, "but someone has to lose. I want to win as much as any flyer."

"Mmm, well, it's not quite the same," Shalli murmured. "But I was only joking, child. You wouldn't want to challenge Corm, really. You wouldn't have a very good chance." She glanced across the room.

"Excuse me, please — I see that Corm has found a cushion for me, and now I suppose I must go and sit on it if I'm not to hurt his feelings. I'll talk to you later, Maris. S'Rella, it was nice to meet you."

They watched her moving easily through the crowded room, away from them.

"Would I?" S'Rella asked, her tone troubled.

"Would you what?"

"Have a chance against Corm."

Maris looked at her unhappily, not knowing what to say. "He's very good," she managed finally. "He's been flying for almost twenty years now, and he's won prizes in lots of these competitions. No, you're probably not his match. But that's no disgrace, S'Rella."

"Which one is he?" S'Rella said, frowning.

"Over by Shalli — see — the dark-haired one in black and gray."

"He's handsome," S'Rella said.

Maris laughed. "Ah, yes. Half the land-bound girls on Amberly were in love with him when he was younger. They were all heartbroken when he and Shalli wed."

That drew a small smile back to S'Rella's face. "On my home island, all the boys used to dream about S'Landra, our flyer. Were you in love with Corm too?"

"Never. I knew him too well."

"MARIS!" The bellow rang from the rafters, attracting attention all over the lodge. Garth was yelling at her from across the room, gesturing her closer.

She grinned. "Come," she said, pulling S'Rella after her through the press, nodding polite hellos at old acquaintances as she went.

Garth crushed her in a formidable hug when she reached him, then pushed her back to look at her. "You look tired, Maris," he told her. "Flying too much."

"And you," she said, "have been eating too much." She jabbed a finger into his stomach where it hung over his belt. "What's this? Are you and Shalli going to give birth together?"

Garth snorted with laughter. "Ah," he growled, "my sister's fault. She brews her own ale, you know. Got a right little business going. I have to help her out, of course, buy a little now and again."

"You're probably her best customer," Maris said. "When did you grow the beard?"

"Oh, a month ago, two, something like that. I haven't seen you in a half-year, it seems."

Maris nodded. "Dorrel was fretting over you the last time we were at the Eyrie together. Something about a date to get drunk, and you didn't make it."

He frowned. "Ah," he said, "yes, I know all about it. Dorrel goes on endlessly. I was ill, that's all, no great mystery." He turned back to the fire and gave his stew a stir. "There'll be food soon. Hungry? I made this myself, Southern style, with lots of spices and wine."

Maris turned. "You hear that, S'Rella? You'll get some decent food, it sounds like." She ushered the girl forward to face Garth. "S'Rella's a Woodwinger, and one of the best. She'll be taking some poor soul's wings this year. S'Rella, this is Garth of Skulny, one of our hosts here and an old friend." "Not that old,"

Garth protested. He smiled at S'Rella. "Why, you're as beautiful as Maris used to be, before she got thin and tired. Do you fly as well?"

"I try to," S'Rella said.