Windhaven

"She's nice," Garth said when they were gone, "and she does remind me an awful lot of you, Maris. Do you remember when we first met?"

Maris smiled at him. "I remember. It was my first flight to the Eyrie and there was a party that night."

"Raven was there too. That was where he did his trick."

"I've never forgotten it," Maris said.

"Did you teach it to One-Wing?"

"No."

Garth laughed. "Everyone is certain you did. We all remember how impressed you were by Raven. Coll even made a song about him, didn't he?"

Maris smiled. "Yes."

Garth started to say something else, then thought better of it. For a long moment the room was filled with silence, and the smile slowly faded on Garth's face.

He began to cry, fighting it and losing; he reached out his big hands for her, and Maris came and sat on the edge of the bed and hugged him, and ran her hands across his brow. "I knew — I didn't want S'Rella to see me — ah, Maris, it's so damned rotten, so damned—"

"Oh, Garth," she whispered, kissing him lightly and fighting to hold back her own tears. She felt so helpless. Briefly she thought of what it would be like if she were in Garth's place. She trembled and pushed the thought away and hugged him again all the harder.

"Come and see me," he said. "I — you know how— when you don't fly, you can't go to the Eyrie — you know — bad enough to lose your freedom, and the wind — but I don't want to lose you too, and my other friends, just because — oh, damn, damn these tears—visit me, Maris, promise, promise."

"I promise, Garth," she said, trying to keep her voice light. "Unless you gain so much weight that I can't stand to look at you."

Beneath his tears, he laughed. "Ah," he said. "Here— and just when I thought I could get fat in peace.

You—"

Footsteps sounded outside, Riesa and S'Rella returning, and Garth quickly used the blanket to dry his tears. "Go," he said, smiling again, "go, I'm tired, you've exhausted me. But come back tomorrow when it's all over and tell me how the games went."

Maris nodded. And S'Rella came up to her side and bent to give Garth a quick, shy kiss before they left.

They walked the half-mile back to the village slowly, talking as they went and savoring the cool wind that moved through the night. They spoke of Garth, and a little bit of Val, and S'Rella mentioned the wings—

her wings — with wonder in her voice. "I'm a flyer," she said happily. "It's really true."

But it was not that simple.

Sena was waiting for them inside their cabin, sitting on the edge of a bed and looking impatient. She rose when they entered. "Where have you been?"

"We went to see how Garth is," Maris answered. "Is anything wrong?"

"I don't know. We have been summoned up to the lodge house by the judges." She gave S'Rella a meaningful look with her good eye. "All three of us, and we're late."

They left at once. On the way, Maris told Sena what Garth had said about giving up the wings, but the old teacher did not seem pleased. "Well, we shall see about that," she said. "I would not go flying off with them just yet.

The flyers were not partying tonight. The main room of the lodge was sparsely populated, only a half-dozen Western flyers Maris knew vaguely sitting and drinking, and the atmosphere was anything but festive. One of them stood up when Maris and the others entered. "In the back room," he said.

The five judges were squabbling around a circular table, but they broke off in mid-argument when the door opened. Shalli stood up. "Maris, Sena, S'Rella, do come in," she said. "And close the door."

They took seats around the table, and Shalli folded her hands neatly in front of her as she resumed. "We summoned you because we have a dispute, and it involves young S'Rella here, and you have a right to state your views. Garth has sent word that he will not fly tomorrow—"

"We know," Maris broke in. "We just came from him."

"Good," Shalli said. "Then perhaps you understand our problem. We must decide what to do with the wings."

S'Rella looked stricken. "They're mine," she said. "Garth said so."

The Landsman of Skulny was drumming his fingers on the table and frowning. "The wings are not Garth's to give," he said loudly. "Here, child, I will ask you a question. If you are given the wings, will you promise to make a home here, and fly for Skulny?"

S'Rella did not flinch under his intense gaze, Maris noted with approval. "No," she answered bluntly. "I couldn't. I mean, Skulny is nice, I'm sure, but — but this isn't my home. I'm going to return to Southern with the wings, to Veleth, the little island where I was born."

The Landsman shook his head violently. "No, no, no. You may return to this Southern rock if you wish, but if you do it will be without the wings." He looked at the other judges. "See. I gave her a chance. I insist."