Windhaven

The judge from Eastern was laughing. "I never thought I'd see that again," she exclaimed. "Damn, damn.

Even Raven never did it better."

Shalli looked miserable. "A cheap trick," she said. "And dangerous as well."

"Probably," the Outer Islander agreed, "but I've never seen anything like it. How did he do it, anyway?"

The Easterner tried to explain, and the two of them fell to talking. In the distance, Val and Corm were going through their stunts. Val flew well, though Maris noted that his upwind turns were still not all they should be. Corm flew better, matching Val stunt-for-stunt and doing each of them just a little more gracefully, with the skill that comes with decades of flying. But he flew hopelessly, Maris thought; after Raven's Fall, no amount of finesse was going to redress the balance.

She was right. Shalli was the only exception. "Corm was much superior overall," she insisted. "One foolhardy stunt does not change that." She dropped a white stone into the box with an emphatic flick of her wrist.

But the other judges just smiled at her indulgently, and the four pebbles that followed hers were black.

"Garth of Skulny , S'Rella the Woodwinger!"

S'Rella and Garth, though totally different in appearance, looked almost alike this morning, Maris thought as she watched them prepare. Garth should have been elated by his victory yesterday, and the likelihood that his wings were safe, but if anything he seemed paler and more aged today. He hardly spoke to Riesa, and went about the motions of donning his wings with a wooden deliberateness. S'Rella bit her lip as she let the helpers unfold her wings, and looked as if she were holding back tears.

Neither of them attempted anything spectacular on launching. Garth banked right, S'Rella left, and they passed above the beach and the boats with approximately equal ease. A few of the locals waved to Garth and shouted his name as he sailed by overhead, but otherwise the crowd was silent, still breathless over Val's leap.

Sena shook her head. "S'Rella was never as pretty to watch as Sher or Leya, but she can fly better than that." She had just stalled and lost altitude on a rather routine upwind turn, and Maris had to agree with the teacher's assessment. S'Rella was not flying well.

"She's just going through the motions," Maris said. "I think she's still shaken by last night."

Garth was taking full advantage of his opponent's lassitude. He soared with his usual quiet competence, performed graceful, languorous turns, and slid into a loop. It was not an especially good loop, but S'Rella was attempting none at all.

"This one will be easy to judge," the Landsman of Skulny said with relief. He was already looking about for a white pebble. Maris could only hope that he would not drop two.

"Look at that," Sena snorted with disgust. "My best student, and she's wandering all over the sky like some eight-year-old on her first flight."

"What's Garth doing?" Maris wondered aloud. His wings were moving out to sea, tilting first one way and then the other, almost shaking. "That's an awful wobble."

"If the judges notice," Sena said sourly. "Look, he's righted it now."

He had; now the great silver wings had straightened, and Garth was sailing steadily away from them, riding on the wind, sinking slightly.

"He's just flying," Maris said, puzzled. "He isn't doing any stunts."

Garth continued to move off, toward the deep waters beyond the breakers. He flew gracefully, but so straight; it was no great task to be graceful when yielding to the wind. Gradually he was descending.

Now he was about thirty feet above the water, and still he sank. His flight seemed so calm, so peaceful.

Maris gasped. "He's falling," she said. She turned to the judges. "Help him," she shouted. "He's falling!"

"What's she yelling about?" the Easterner asked.

Shalli put her telescope to her eye, found Garth in it. He was skimming the waves now. "She's right," she said, in a small voice.

Instantly there was chaos. The Landsman jumped to his feet and began to wave his arms and shout orders, and two of the landsguard went sprinting off down the stairs, and the others all started running somewhere. The crier cupped her huge hands and shouted, " Help him! Help the flyer! People in the boats, help the flyer! " Down on the beach other criers repeated the chant, and spectators ran for the shore, shouting and pointing.

Garth hit the water. His forward motion sent him skipping over the surface, once, twice, and sheets of spray fanned out from his wings, but he lost speed rapidly, slowed, stopped.