of bridles and the shush of moving air. Once we get to Dancruan, things are bound to be noisy. Music, politics, gossip. It’s bad enough when Uncle receives his nobles. I hear my cousin’s court is much larger and, unlike Uncle, she holds her court all year round.
She turned her horse in order to look at her brother and sisters, wondering yet again how they would fare—how she would fare—in a sophisticated place like the imperial palace. Briar had unsaddled his horse and flopped onto the meadow grass, his bronze face turned up to the sun. He had even taken his shakkan from its traveling basket and set it on the ground, more like a pet than a plant. All the grass around him was in motion, straining to touch him or the shakkan without blocking the sun that fell on their two new friends.
He isn’t frowning, thought Sandry, amazed. I don’t think I’ve seen him without a hint of a scowl since he came home. When he’s like this, if he weren’t my brother, I’d even find him handsome. Certainly the Trader girls seemed to think so!
When someone blew a horn in the distance, Briar stirred to glare at Tris. “You know where your monster is. Will you kindly get her back here?”
Sandry looked at Tris, who had remained in her saddle to read. The redhead turned a fresh page of her book and did not reply.
Briar sighed his exasperation. “We could be eating midday by now.”
“I was enjoying the quiet,” Sandry remarked mournfully. She looked at Daja. “Weren’t you enjoying the quiet?”
Daja, who had dismounted to practice combat moves with her Trader’s staff, brought the long ebony weapon up to the rest position, exhaled, then looked up at Sandry. “I’m staying out of this one. So should you,” she advised Sandry. “Otherwise, they’ll start a quarrel with us when they get bored of fighting with each other.”
“I’m not quarreling,” Tris said mildly. “I’m reading.”
“ Girls ,” Briar said with disgust. “Aggrimentatious, argufying—”
“Is it that you learned too many languages, and so you must mangle the ones you have?” Sandry asked, curious.
Tris closed her book with a snap and freed a braid from the coil at the back of her head. “Chime’s coming. She’s being chased by riders,” she said, thrusting her book into her tunic pocket. “Nobles. There are falconers far behind them. I suppose they were hunting.” She scowled. “Right now they’re hunting Chime.”
Daja walked over to stand next to Sandry, leaning on her staff. “The wind’s blowing toward us. Tris could just be hearing them,” she remarked. “Except how would she know about the falconers? I think she’s seeing things on the wind, these days.”
Sandry looked at Tris. The breeze came out of the north, making Tris’s braids stream back from her face. “Don’t be silly,” replied Sandry. “Even her teacher can’t do that , and Niko’s one of the greatest sight mages in the world. Most of the mages who try to see things on the wind go mad.”
“But now and then, one has to succeed,” Daja murmured. “Otherwise there wouldn’t be stories of those who can do it.”
“Stop gabbing and move ,” ordered Briar. He saddled his horse and Daja’s with a speed none of the girls could match. “You want whoever is coming to catch you on the ground?” He swung himself into his saddle and took a cloth-wrapped ball from the pocket of his open jacket. Just to vex him, Daja spun her staff lazily around in her hand until it rested on one of her shoulders. Only after she had carefully holstered the length of wood did she gracefully mount her horse.
Over the nearest rise in the ground came Chime, the sun glinting in darts of light from her wings. Seeing them, she voiced her grating alarm screech and sped up. Shooting past Tris, she stopped herself by tangling her claws in the back of the redhead’s tunic. Tris made not a sound, her eyes on the hill as Chime hid behind her.
Like Tris, Sandry focused on the
She turned her horse in order to look at her brother and sisters, wondering yet again how they would fare—how she would fare—in a sophisticated place like the imperial palace. Briar had unsaddled his horse and flopped onto the meadow grass, his bronze face turned up to the sun. He had even taken his shakkan from its traveling basket and set it on the ground, more like a pet than a plant. All the grass around him was in motion, straining to touch him or the shakkan without blocking the sun that fell on their two new friends.
He isn’t frowning, thought Sandry, amazed. I don’t think I’ve seen him without a hint of a scowl since he came home. When he’s like this, if he weren’t my brother, I’d even find him handsome. Certainly the Trader girls seemed to think so!
When someone blew a horn in the distance, Briar stirred to glare at Tris. “You know where your monster is. Will you kindly get her back here?”
Sandry looked at Tris, who had remained in her saddle to read. The redhead turned a fresh page of her book and did not reply.
Briar sighed his exasperation. “We could be eating midday by now.”
“I was enjoying the quiet,” Sandry remarked mournfully. She looked at Daja. “Weren’t you enjoying the quiet?”
Daja, who had dismounted to practice combat moves with her Trader’s staff, brought the long ebony weapon up to the rest position, exhaled, then looked up at Sandry. “I’m staying out of this one. So should you,” she advised Sandry. “Otherwise, they’ll start a quarrel with us when they get bored of fighting with each other.”
“I’m not quarreling,” Tris said mildly. “I’m reading.”
“ Girls ,” Briar said with disgust. “Aggrimentatious, argufying—”
“Is it that you learned too many languages, and so you must mangle the ones you have?” Sandry asked, curious.
Tris closed her book with a snap and freed a braid from the coil at the back of her head. “Chime’s coming. She’s being chased by riders,” she said, thrusting her book into her tunic pocket. “Nobles. There are falconers far behind them. I suppose they were hunting.” She scowled. “Right now they’re hunting Chime.”
Daja walked over to stand next to Sandry, leaning on her staff. “The wind’s blowing toward us. Tris could just be hearing them,” she remarked. “Except how would she know about the falconers? I think she’s seeing things on the wind, these days.”
Sandry looked at Tris. The breeze came out of the north, making Tris’s braids stream back from her face. “Don’t be silly,” replied Sandry. “Even her teacher can’t do that , and Niko’s one of the greatest sight mages in the world. Most of the mages who try to see things on the wind go mad.”
“But now and then, one has to succeed,” Daja murmured. “Otherwise there wouldn’t be stories of those who can do it.”
“Stop gabbing and move ,” ordered Briar. He saddled his horse and Daja’s with a speed none of the girls could match. “You want whoever is coming to catch you on the ground?” He swung himself into his saddle and took a cloth-wrapped ball from the pocket of his open jacket. Just to vex him, Daja spun her staff lazily around in her hand until it rested on one of her shoulders. Only after she had carefully holstered the length of wood did she gracefully mount her horse.
Over the nearest rise in the ground came Chime, the sun glinting in darts of light from her wings. Seeing them, she voiced her grating alarm screech and sped up. Shooting past Tris, she stopped herself by tangling her claws in the back of the redhead’s tunic. Tris made not a sound, her eyes on the hill as Chime hid behind her.
Like Tris, Sandry focused on the
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