Windhaven

"If he hangs me," said Maris calmly, "we will have our incident. My death would unite the flyers as nothing else could."

The color drained out of S'Rella's face. "Maris, no," she whispered.

"I thought that might be it," said Evan in a voice that was unnaturally calm. "So this was the unspoken twist in all your plans. You decided to live just long enough to be a martyr."

Maris frowned. "I was afraid to tell you, Evan. I thought this might happen — I had to consider it when I made my plans. Are you angry?"

"Angry? No. Disappointed. Hurt. And very sad. I believed you when you told me you had decided to live. You seemed happier, and stronger, and I thought that you did love me, and that I could help you."

He sighed. "I didn't realize that, instead of life, you had simply chosen what you thought would be a nobler death. I can't deny you what you want. Death and I wrestle daily, and I have never found him noble, but perhaps I look too closely. You will have what you want, and after you are gone the singers will make it all sound very beautiful, no doubt."

"I don't want to die," she said, very quietly.

She went to Evan and took him by the shoulders. "Look at me, and listen to me," she said. His blue eyes met hers, and she saw the sorrow in them, and hated herself for putting it there.

"My love, you must believe me," she said. "I go to the Landsman's keep because it is all I can do. I must try to save my brother, and myself, and convince the Landsman that flyers are not to be trifled with.

"My plan is to push the Landsman until he breaks and does something foolish — I admit that. And I know that this is a dangerous game. I have known that I might die, or that one of my friends might die. But this is not, not an elaborate plan to make a noble death for myself.

"Evan, I want to live. And I love you. Please don't doubt that." She drew a deep breath, "I need your faith in me. I've needed your help and your love all along.

"I know the Landsman may kill me, but I have to go there, risk that, in order to live. It's the only way. I have to do this, for Coll and for Bari, for Tya, for the flyers— and for myself. Because I have to know, really know, that I'm still good for something. That I was left alive for some purpose. Do you understand?"

Evan looked at her, searching her face. Finally he nodded. "Yes. I understand. I believe you."

Maris turned. "S'Rella?"

There were tears in the other woman's eyes, but she was smiling tremulously. "I'm afraid for you, Maris.

But you're right. You have to go. And I pray you'll succeed, for your own sake and for all of us. I don't want us to win if it means your death."

"One more thing," said Evan.

"Yes?"

"I'm going with you."

They both wore black.

They had been on the road less than ten minutes when they encountered one of Evan's friends, a little girl rushing breathlessly up the road from Thossi to warn them that a half-dozen landsguard were on their way.

They met the landsguard a half-hour later. They were a weary group, armed with spiked clubs and bows, and dressed in soiled uniforms stained with the sweat of their long forced march. But they treated Maris and Evan almost deferentially, and did not seem in the least surprised to meet them on the road. "We are to escort you back to the Landsman's keep," said the young woman in charge.

"Fine," said Maris. She set them a brisk pace.

An hour before they entered the Landsman's isolated valley, Maris finally saw the black flyers for the first time.

From a distance, they seemed like so many insects, dark specks creeping across the sky, although they moved with a sensuous slowness no insect could ever match. They were never out of sight from the first moment Maris noticed motion low on the horizon; no sooner would one vanish behind a tree or a rocky outcrop than another would appear where the first had been. On and on they came, a never-ending procession, and Maris knew that the aerial column trailed miles behind to Port Thayos, and extended on ahead to the Landsman's keep and the sea, before curving around in a great circle to meet itself above the waves.

"Look," she said to Evan, pointing. He looked, and smiled at her, and they held hands. Somehow the mere sight of the flyers made Maris feel better, gave her strength and reassurance. As she walked on, the moving specks in the afternoon sky took on shape and form, growing until she could see the silver sheen of sunlight on their wings, and the way they banked and tacked to find the right wind.