Windhaven

"Do you think it makes a difference?" Maris asked quietly. "Do you expect that the one-wings will flock to your side, and applaud this crime? That somehow you'll be allowed to keep your wings? What Landsman would have you?"

"The Landsmen won't like it," Tya said, "but perhaps it is time for them to learn they can't control us. I have friends among the one-wings who agree with me. The Landsmen have too much power, particularly here in Eastern. And by what right? By birth? Birth used to determine who wore wings, but your Council changed that. Why should it determine who rules?

"You don't realize the things a Landsman can do, Maris. It's different in Western. And you were above it all, like all the old flyers. But it is different for a one-wing.

"We grow up like all the other land-bound, nothing special about us. And after we win our wings, the Landsmen still see us as subjects. The wings we bear command their respect for us as their equals, but it's a fragile thing, that respect. At any competition we might lose the wings and again be weak, lowly citizens.

"In Eastern, in the Embers, in most of Southern and even a few islands in Western — wherever the Landsmen inherit their power — they look with respect upon the flyers who were born to wings. They may disguise it, but they feel a sort of contempt for those of us who had to work and struggle to win a pair of wings. They treat us only superficially as their equals. All the time they are trying to control us, trying to buy and sell us, commanding us, feeding us messages to fly as if we were no more than a flock of trained birds. Well, what I've done will shake them, make them look again. We're not their servants, and we won't submit anymore to flying messages we despise, carrying death-warrants and ultimatums to ignite wars that might destroy our families, friends, and other innocents!"

"You can't pick and choose like that," Maris interrupted. "You can't — the messenger isn't responsible for the content of the message."

"That's what the flyers told themselves for centuries," Tya said. Her eyes glittered with anger. "But of course the messenger is responsible! I have brains, a heart, a conscience — I won't pretend I don't."

Abruptly, like a sluice of cold water, the thought "This has nothing to do with me" doused Maris' passion.

She was left feeling angry and bitter. What was she doing arguing flyer business? She was no flyer. She looked at Evan. "If you are through here, we had better leave," she said dully.

He rested a hand on her shoulder and nodded to her, then looked to Tya. "It's only a minor fracture," he said. "There should be no problem with its healing. Just rest — don't do anything violent that might dislodge the brace."

Tya grinned crookedly, showing her discolored teeth. "Like trying to escape? I have no activities planned. But you'd better tell the Landsman, so his guards don't forget themselves and massage me with their clubs."

Evan knocked on the door for the guards, and almost immediately came the noise of the heavy bolts being drawn back.

"Goodbye, Maris," Tya called.

Maris hesitated, about to walk through the door. Then she turned back. "I don't think the Landsman will dare to try you himself," she said earnestly. "He will have to let your peers judge you. But I don't think they will be kind, Tya. What you have done is too dangerous. It affects too many people — it affects everyone."

Tya stared at her. "So was what you did, Maris. But the world is ready for another change, I think. I know what I did was right, even if I failed."

"Maybe the world is ready for another change," Maris said steadily. "But is this the way we should change it? You've only replaced threats with lies. Do you really think flyers as a whole are wiser and more noble than Landsmen? That they should bear the whole responsibility for choosing what messages to fly, and which to alter, and which to refuse?"

Tya looked back at her, unmoved. "I'd do it again," she said.

The trip through the tunnels seemed shorter on their return. The Landsman was again waiting for them in the drafty outer hall, and he looked at them both sharply, as if seeking signs of anger or fear. "A most unfortunate accident," he said.

Evan said, "She suffered only a fractured collarbone and a few bruises. She should recover quickly if she is given good food and allowed to rest."

"She will have the best of care during her detention here," said the Landsman. He looked at Maris, although he directed his words to Evan. "I've sent Jem to spread word of her arrest. A thankless task — the flyers have no leaders, no rational organization — that would make things too easy. Instead word must be spread among as many of them as possible, and that takes time. But it will be done. Jem has flown for me for many years, and his mother flew for my father. He at least I can count on."

"Then you intend to hand Tya over to the flyers for trial?" said Maris.