Taking Flight

Zindre had said he would go back, so he had taken it for granted, but did he want to go back? Back to the rolling green hills, the hard, boring work on the farm, his oh-so-superior older sisters? Returning covered in glory might be fun, but living there again-somehow, after all his traveling, Shulara seemed smaller and duller than ever in retrospect. The Great Highway hadn’t been lined with magicians and minstrels, he hadn’t seen a single dice game or bedded any serving wenches; the World was not the bright roaring carnival he had hoped for. It was, instead, larger and more complicated than he had imagined.

Going back to Shulara-he didn’t think it would work.

But if he didn’t want to go on wandering, and didn’t want to go back, what was left?

He could settle somewhere else, of course-find a home, a steady income. Friends, maybe.

He remembered Azraya, who intended to become a sailor, and thought that might be the best of both paths, in a way-your ship was your home, your crewmates your friends, yet you traveled the World, seeing its wonders.

That might be worth trying.

He couldn’t sign onto a ship here on the river, though-at least, not so far as he knew. From here, he had two routes he could take.

Ethshar lay one long day’s march to the south-Ethshar of the Spices, the largest city in the World, which the bolder storytellers claimed was home to a million people; Ethshar, the greatest port in the World, whence ships sailed to the farthest lands of north, south, and west; Ethshar, home to the invincible army of the city’s overlord, to all the greatest magicians, the wisest scholars; Ethshar, where it was said that absolutely anything could be had for a price.

He could be there in a day, once Irith’s spells were all broken. And he could find work there, even if it was just soldiering in the city guard.

Or he could go back home to Shulara, to the farm and family.

There wasn’t really anywhere else he wanted to go in the Small Kingdoms; none of the towns he had passed through stood out as a good place to settle. If not back to Shulara, then on to Ethshar.

But should he go home? That was what the prophecy had said.

But it had not said when, and it had implied he would see Ethshar first. If Iridith could break the spells on Ezdral and Irith right here, there was no more need to go to Ethshar-but there was no reason he couldn’t. He could always change his mind and go back later.

And if he went home, he could leave again, couldn’t he?

Well, perhaps not, not if he had crops and children to worry about. Better, then, to see Ethshar first, then go home.

And then there was Irith to consider. He did not think she would accept a marriage proposal just yet; maybe she would, but he wasn’t ready to try it.

But would she be more likely to accept if he were going on to Ethshar, or if he were going home to Shulara?

He tried to imagine Irith living with him in the hills of Shulara, tending the house and crops, trading at the market. The image wouldn’t come; every time he thought of her he saw her spreading her wings and soaring upward, away from anything so mundane as farm and family.

If her spells were broken, though, she would have no wings.

He remembered once, as a boy, he had watched the princess ants emerging from their nest, swarming upward into the sky on their transparent, shining wings. His father had explained how each one would find a new place, a new nest, where she would settle in. Her wings would fall off, and she would become a queen, staying safe underground and laying her eggs while her offspring tended to her.

Irith was like that; she had fled her old home, where there was no safe place for her, and had flittered about the World.

Sooner or later, though, came a time to shed the wings and settle in.

Kelder had been away from home less than a month, and he felt he was ready to settle-if it was with Irith.

But somehow, he knew she would never settle while she had her magic. She might try, but he would age, and she would not; he would mature, and she would not; and one day she would get bored and fly away.

But he was sure she would agree to give up her magic. After all, after two hundred years, she must be tired of it all, must be ready to grow up and settle down.

It might take her awhile to realize it, but surely, she would.

He rolled over and went to sleep.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Iridith returned to the Inn At The Bridge some three days after Irith and her companions had arrived; she flew up to the door around midafternoon of the third day, startling Kelder considerably. He had never seen anyone fly without wings before.