Windhaven

The singer grinned. "There already is one," she said. "I heard it in Port Thayos. Here, I'll sing it for you."

Maris met Katinn of Lomarron in the abandoned field, where slender green ruffians and misshapen dirt-dragons were fast crowding out the wild wheat. The big man with the scylla's-tooth necklace came down gracefully on silvered wings, dressed all in black.

She led him inside and gave him water. "Well?" He wiped away the moisture from his lips and grinned at her roughly. "I flew in very high, and saw the circle far beneath me. Ah, you should have seen it! Forty wings by now, I'd guess. The Landsman must be drooling at the mouth. Word has gone out, too. More one-wings are coming from all over Eastern, and Val himself flew the word back to Western, so it won't be too long before others join us, too. By now there are so many that it's easy to break away for a rest or a meal without anyone being the wiser. I don't envy poor Alain starting it all. She's a strong flyer, no doubt of that. I've never known her to tire. They've got her resting in secret on Thrynel now, but she'll be back to rejoin us soon. As for me, I'm on my way to join the circle now." Maris nodded. "What about Coll's song?" "They're singing it on Lomarron, and South Arren, and Kite's Landing. I've heard it myself, several times. And it's gone to Southern and the Outer Islands as well, and to Western of course — to your Amberly, and Culhall, and Poweet. Heard that it's spreading among the singers in Stormtown."

"Good," said Maris. "Good."

"The Landsman sent Jem up to question the black flyers," said Evan's friend, repeating the news from Thossi, "and it's said that he recognized them and called on them by name, but they would not speak to him. You ought to come to the city and see them, Evan. Whenever you look up, the sky is full of flyers."

"The Landsman has ordered the flyers out of his sky, but they will not go. And why should they? As the singers say, the sky belongs to flyers!"

"I heard that a flyer arrived from Thrane, with a message from their Landsman to ours, but when he met her in the audience chamber to hear it, he turned pale with fear, for the flyer was dressed in black from head to foot. She delivered the message to him as he trembled, but before she could go, the Landsman stopped her and demanded to know why she was dressed all in black. 'I go to join the circle,' she told him calmly, 'and grieve for Tya.' And so she did, so she did."

"They say the singers in Port Thayos all dress in black these days, and some other people as well. The streets are full of merchants selling black cloth, and the dyers are very busy."

"Jem has joined the black flyers!"

"The Landsman has ordered the landsguard back from Thrane. He's afraid of what the black flyers might do, I heard, and he wants his best archers around him. The keep is full to overcrowding. It's said that the Landsman will not go outside, lest the shadow of their wings fall upon him as they fly overhead."

S'Rella arrived with the welcome news that Dorrel was less than a day behind her. Maris kept watch on the cliffs herself all that afternoon, too impatient even to wait at home with S'Rella, and at last she was rewarded by the sight of a dark figure gliding inland. She hurried into the forest to meet him.

It was a hot, still day, bad weather for flying. Maris swiped at attacking insects as she trudged through the tall grass that almost concealed the cabin. Her heart was racing with excitement as she pushed open the heavy wooden door, hanging on its hinges.

She blinked, almost blind in the dark interior after the brilliant sunshine, and then she felt his hand on her shoulder, and heard his familiar voice say her name.

"You… you came," she said. She was suddenly short of breath. "Dorrel."

"Did you doubt I would come?"

She could see now. The familiar smile, his well-remembered way of standing.

"Do you mind if we sit down?" he asked. "I'm awfully tired. It was a long flight from Western, and it did me no good to try to catch up to S'Rella."

They sat close together, on two matching chairs that must once have been very fine. But the cushions were impregnated with dust now, greenish and slightly damp with mold.

"How are you, Maris?"

"I'm… living. Ask me again in a month or so and I may have a better answer for you." She looked into his dark, concerned eyes, and then away again. "It's been a long time, hasn't it, Dorr?"

He nodded. "When you weren't at the Council, I understood… I hoped that you were doing what was best for you. I was more pleased than I can say when S'Rella came, bearing your message, your request that I come to you." He sat a little straighter in his chair. "But surely you didn't send for me just for the pleasure of seeing an old friend."

Maris drew a deep breath. "I need your help. You know about the circle? The black flyers?"

He nodded. "Rumors have already spread. And I saw them as I flew in. An impressive sight. Your doing?"

"Yes."