Windhaven

Val's face became an expressionless mask. "I see," he said flatly. "Suit yourself. If you care so much for flyers, go visit Garth and tell him to keep his wings. I'll celebrate by myself." He turned away and began to stride across the sand, toward the sea road that would take him to his tavern.

Maris took S'Rella's hand. "Would you like to visit Garth?" she said impulsively.

"Could we?"

Maris nodded. "He and Riesa share a big house a half mile up the hill road. He likes to stay close to the sea and the lodge. We could go see how he is."

S'Rella was eager, and they set off at once. Maris had been a bit afraid of the reception they might receive when they arrived, but her own concern about Garth's condition was great enough that she was willing to take the risk. She needn't have worried. Riesa beamed at them when she opened the door, and all at once began to cry, and Maris had to take her in her arms and comfort her. "Oh, come see him, come see him," Riesa kept saying through her tears. "He'll be so glad."

Garth was propped up in bed against a mountain of pillows, a shaggy woolen blanket thrown over his legs. His face was frighteningly pale and puffy, but when he saw them in the doorway his smile was real enough. "Ah," he boomed, his voice loud as ever, "Maris! And the little demon who's out to take my wings." He waved them to his side. "Come and sit and talk to me. Riesa does nothing but fuss and fret, and she won't even bring me any of her ale."

Maris smiled. "You don't need any ale," she said primly as she walked to his bedside and kissed him lightly on the brow.

S'Rella hung back by the door, however. When he saw that, Garth's face turned serious. "Ah, S'Rella,"

he said, "don't be frightened. I'm not angry with you."

She came forward to stand by Maris. "You're not?"

"No," Garth said firmly. "Riesa, bring them seats." His sister did as he asked, and when they were seated, Garth resumed. "Oh, I was furious when you challenged me— hurt, too — I can't deny that."

"I'm sorry," S'Rella blurted. "I didn't want to hurt you. I don't hate you — what I said that night at the lodge."

He waved her quiet. "I know that. And you needn't be sorry. The water was terribly cold out there, but maybe it woke me up a bit, and I've had all afternoon to lie here and think. I've been a fool, and I'm lucky I have the breath to say so. I did wrong to keep it secret, the way that I was feeling, and you did right to name me when you knew." He shook his head. "I couldn't accept being land-bound, you know. I love the flying too much, all my friends, the travel. But it's over, my little swim proved that, the only question is whether I'm to be a live land-bound or a drowned flyer at the end of it all. Before today, I'd always managed to shrug off the pain, get where I was going. But this morning — ah, it was miserable, shooting pains in my arms and legs. But I don't want to talk about that. Bad enough it happened." He reached across and took S'Rella by the hand. "What I mean to say, S'Rella, is that I can't compete tomorrow, and I wouldn't if I could. Riesa and the sea have brought me to my senses. The wings are yours."

S'Rella could hardly believe him. She stared at him wide-eyed, and a tremulous smile broke across her face.

"What will you do, Garth?" Maris asked.

He grimaced. "That depends on the healers," he said. "Seems to me I have three choices. Maybe I'll be a corpse, and maybe I'll be a cripple, but if I can find a healer who knows what he's about, I thought I might try my hand at trade. I've got enough iron put aside to buy myself a ship, and I could travel that way, see other islands — though I'm half scared out of my wits at the idea of traveling by sea." He chuckled. "You and Dorr used to kid me about being a trader. You remember, Maris? Said I'd trade my wings if the deal was good enough, just because I liked to swap a little now and again. Well, some trader I turned out to be. Here S'Rella gets my wings and doesn't give me anything." He laughed, and Maris found herself joining him.

They talked for over an hour, about traders and sailors and finally flyers, relaxing as they laughed at Garth's jokes and exchanged gossip. "Corm is livid about your friend Val," Garth said at one point, "and I can't say I blame him. He's a good enough flyer that he never considered that he might lose his wings, and here it seems he's lost them, and to One-Wing of all people. Did you have anything to do with that, Maris?"

She shook her head. "Hardly. All Val's idea. He'll never admit it, but I think he wanted to beat a flyer of the top rank to make them forget about Ari. The fact that Corm's wife sits among the judges just added an extra flair to the feat, and of course it gave him a convenient excuse if he lost. He could blame a defeat on flyer prejudice."

Garth nodded and made a rude joke about Corm, then turned to his sister. "Riesa, why don't you show S'Rella our house?"

Riesa took the hint. "Yes, do come see," she said. S'Rella followed her from the room.