Windhaven

Maris laughed, and let him help her back down on the bed. She wouldn't admit it, but sitting up had tired her, and it was a welcome relief to rest. The slowness of her body to mend frustrated her. And she didn't understand why, just because a few bones were broken, she should tire so easily. She closed her eyes, listening to the sounds Evan made as he tended the fire and tidied the room.

She thought about Evan. She was attracted to him, and of course the circumstances had made for an easy intimacy between them. She had imagined that, once she mended, she and Evan might become lovers. She thought better of it now, knowing more of his life. Evan had loved, and been left, too many times. She liked him too well to want to hurt him, and she knew that she would leave Thayos, and Evan, just as soon as she could fly again. It was better, she decided sleepily, that she and Evan remain only friends. She would have to ignore how much she liked that bright sparkle in his blue eyes, and forget her fantasies about his slim, wiry body and skilled hands.

She smiled and yawned and fell asleep, to dream that she was teaching Evan how to fly.

The next day S'Rella arrived.

Maris was drowsy and half asleep, and at first she thought she was dreaming. The stuffy room suddenly became fresher, full of the clean, sharp scent of sea winds, and when Maris looked up S'Rella was standing in the doorway, wings slung over one arm. For an instant she looked like the shy, slight girl she had been more than twenty years ago, when Maris had helped teach her to fly. But she smiled then, a self-assured smile that lit her dark, thin face and emphasized the lines that time had left there. And when she came forward, spraying salt water from her wings and wet clothes, the phantom of S'Rella the Woodwinger dissolved entirely, and she was S'Rella of Veleth, a seasoned flyer and the mother of two grown daughters. The two women embraced, awkwardly because of the huge cast protecting Maris' left arm, but with fierce emotion.

"I came as soon as I heard, Maris," S'Rella said. "I'm sorry you had to be here alone for so long, but communication among flyers isn't what it once was, especially for one-wings. I might not be here now, but I had to fly a message to Big Shotan, and afterward I decided to visit the Eyrie. A strange whim, now that I think about it — it must have been four, five years since the last time. Corina was there, fresh from Amberly, and she told me that an Eastern flyer had just brought word of your accident. I left at once. I was so worried…" And she bent down to hug her friend again, the wings almost slipping from her grasp.

"Let me hang them for you," Evan said quietly, stepping forward. S'Rella handed them to him with hardly a glance, her attention all for Maris.

"How… how are you?" she asked.

Maris smiled. With her good arm she threw back the blanket, revealing two cast-bound legs. "Broken, as you can see, but mending. Or so Evan assures me. My ribs hardly pain me at all now. And I'm sure the casts on these legs are ready to be removed — they itch abominably!" She scowled and pulled a long straw from a vase of flowers on the bedside table. Frowning with concentration, she poked the straw down between flesh and cast. "This helps sometimes, but other times it just makes it worse, by tickling."

"And your arm?"

Maris looked to Evan for the answer.

"Don't put me on the spot, Maris," he said. "You know as much as I do about it. I think your arm is healing properly, and there hasn't been any more infection. As for your legs — you'll be able to scratch them to your heart's content in a day or two."

Maris gave a small bounce of joy, then caught her breath. She turned pale and swallowed hard.

Frowning, Evan stepped toward the bed. "What happened? What hurt you?"

"Nothing," Maris said quickly. "Nothing. I just felt a… a little sick, that's all. I must have jarred my arm."

Evan nodded, but he did not look satisfied. "I'll make tea," he said, and left the two women alone together.

"Now I want your news," Maris said. "You know mine. Evan has been wonderful, but healing takes so much time, and I've felt so dreadfully cut off here."

"It is a distant place," S'Rella agreed. "And cold." Southerners thought the whole of the world was cold, outside their own archipelago. Maris grinned — it was an old joke between them — and clasped S'Rella's hand.

"Where shall I begin?" S'Rella asked. "Good news or bad? Gossip or politics? You're the one who's bed-bound, Maris. What would you like to know?"

"Everything," Maris said, "but you can begin by telling me about your daughters."

S'Rella smiled. "S'Rena has decided to marry Arno, the boy who has the meat-pie concession on the docks of Garr. She has the only fruit-pie stand, of course, and they've decided to combine their businesses and corner the waterfront pie market."

Maris laughed. "It seems a very sensible arrangement."