4

Firstday, 13 Plowing, 956

Larine lifted her face to the chilly sea breeze as the ship completed its turn north. She glanced at Dabiel and laughed for sheer delight.

Her friend grinned back. “How does it feel to be going home?”

“Wonderful!” Larine shivered and pulled her brown plaid wizard’s cloak closed. “And cold.”

“You’ve gotten soft after seven years in the balmy south.” The corners of Dabiel’s eyes crinkled the way they always did when she teased Larine. “Maybe we should have requested the summer voyage instead of the spring one.”

“Oh, no.” Larine fixed her eyes on the horizon, mentally urging the ship to greater speed. “I’ve waited long enough. I can’t think of a better way to start our first year as journeymen.”

Dabiel twisted to look at the shore behind them, where the rooftops of Elathir were dwindling in the distance. “It feels strange to be leaving Master Idan behind.”

“Master Tasha said that’s why they like to send journeymen on a circuit as soon as possible. So we get used to being on our own.”

“I certainly won’t miss having to review every little thing we do. But I hope we don’t run into anything too complex. It’s scary knowing there aren’t any masters to confer with, even if we need to.”

Larine nodded. “They wouldn’t have sent us if they didn’t trust us to handle whatever we encounter.”

“I hope they’re right.” Dabiel scratched Buttons’s head. The big pink pig snuffled in appreciation. “Buttons and Flutter will make sure we don’t mess up too much.”

Larine reached out with her thoughts to her familiar. Flutter sent her a vivid sensory impression of wind and salt spray and sunlight glittering on water. She reveled in the falcon’s pleasure at soaring fast and high, the endless blue ocean below, the infinite blue sky above. “Of course they will.”

Both of them were silent for a while. Eventually Dabiel shook her head and flashed a grin at Larine. “Let’s go offer to fill the sails. The faster we get to Gemgeda, the more time you’ll have with your family.”

Larine enthusiastically agreed. They made their way aft, swaying and stumbling with the ship’s motion, and found Master Del, the ship’s captain, at the wheel.

“That would be welcome. I don’t like to ask, but I never turn down help when a wizard offers. Shiar, take them to the stern and show them where to direct the air. And bring up some stools for them.”

The young man beside her gave Dabiel and Larine appreciative glances. “Right this way. But surely we can do better than stools, master. I’d be happy to loan them the chair from my cabin—it’s quite comfortable. And the ones in your office aren’t bad, if you don’t mind me appropriating one.”

Del shook her head with a laugh. “Go ahead. Although I’m sure they’d be fine without your pampering.”

“Nothing is too good for our wizard guests.” Shiar gestured for them to precede him with an extravagant flourish.

Dabiel rolled her eyes at his flirting, but Larine rather liked it. She eyed Shiar while he led them to the stern, pointing out interesting features of the ship as they passed. He was good-looking, with wavy brown hair and amber eyes that shone in the sunlight. Not as handsome as Hanion, but then, no one was.

She’d long since given up hope of being anything but friends with Hanion. She was too shy to admit her infatuation, and he treated her like a younger sister. She’d watched as he’d gone through a series of relationships with girls who were all much older and prettier than she was. He’d been with his latest for nearly a year. If his normal pattern held, they’d be splitting up soon.

Larine was a journeyman now. Maybe when she got back to Elathir she could say something…

Her face got hot. Hanion would laugh. No, worse, he’d be kind. He would reject her gently and respectfully. She wasn’t going to subject herself to such humiliation.

As they neared the stern, Larine called Flutter in. He was reluctant to abandon the sky, but he arrowed to the ship and swooped to land on the leather pad she wore on her shoulder. She pressed her cheek into his feathers as he settled himself.

She turned to find Shiar staring at her, open admiration on his face. She blushed. “This is my familiar, Flutter. He’s a peregrine falcon.”

“Beautiful.” Something in the way he said it made Larine think he wasn’t referring only to the bird. “Clearly the Mother favors you, to grant you such a magnificent creature.”

Larine shrugged. Flutter screeched and flapped in protest as the motion of her shoulder unbalanced him. “Dabiel always wanted a bird for a familiar. When Flutter showed up at the Hall, we all assumed he was hers.” Larine had felt an immediate connection to the fierce fledgeling, but she would never have stood in her friend’s way.

Dabiel shook her head, chuckling. “He was exactly what I’d always dreamed of. I was so excited, I didn’t even notice he preferred Larine.” Her grin softened. “Then a herder brought Buttons to the Hall and put him in my arms. He was tiny, and adorable, and he looked at me with the shiniest black eyes I’d ever seen. After that, I never looked at Flutter again.” She caressed the pig and gave Larine a rueful smile. “The Mother made sure we got it right.”

Shiar nodded, his gaze traveling between the two pairs. “I can tell you’re both perfectly matched.” His eyes settled on Larine, and his voice warmed. “I’m glad you got the partner you deserved.”

Larine looked away, her face hot. “Thank you. Um, you were going to show us the best place to direct the wind?”

“Of course.” Shiar stepped to her side, a little closer than she liked. He pointed to the sails that spread broad and white from the masts. “See how they’re angled? The wind isn’t coming from directly behind us, but from about thirty degrees starboard. You’ll need to match it. If the wind you create comes from a different direction, the sails won’t catch it as efficiently.”

Larine frowned at the sails. “Won’t that push the ship sideways?”

“The keel keeps us going straight.” He reached for her hands and pressed them together. “Look. Your hands are the boat. The wind pushes, and the water resists.” He pressed his hands on either side of hers. “The ship slides between them.” His hands slid along hers in illustration.

Her heart racing, Larine pulled her hands away. “I understand.”

“Then why do you still look confused?” He grinned conspiratorially. “I can explain better later, if you’d like. Until then, use your power to push along with the real wind, not against it, and everything will be fine.”

“Like this?” Larine raised her hand and pictured what she thought he meant. Flutter sent the Mother’s power bursting from her fingers in a diffuse cloud. The golden light gathered the air and shoved it against the canvas planes of the sails.

“Exactly.” Shiar gazed at the shimmering glow, his lips parted. “Amazing.”

Larine grinned. “You haven’t seen the Mother’s power before?”

“I have. But it’s especially lovely today.” His eyes lingered on her raised hand before shifting to her face. He nodded. “I’ll go fetch those chairs now.”

Larine watched him walk away. She only realized she was staring when Dabiel cleared her throat. “Do you want Buttons and me to join you, or should we take turns?”

“Turns, I think. This takes some effort. We’re going to have to rest between sessions.”

“All right. Go on as long as you can, then we’ll take over.”

Larine leaned back against the stern rail and concentrated on the sensation of the Mother’s power flowing through her. Flutter varied the pressure and focus of the moving air until they settled on what they both agreed was the most effective they could sustain for a while. After that it was just a matter of keeping her cheek pressed to the falcon’s side.

Dabiel waited until they were settled before she spoke, her tone carefully casual. “So what do you think of Shiar?”

Larine couldn’t shrug without disturbing Flutter. “He’s all right.”

“He likes you.”

Larine forced her shoulders to remain still. “I guess.”

“Do you like him?”

“How am I supposed to know? I just met him.” This time Larine couldn’t resist raising the shoulder away from Flutter. He muttered in annoyance when she dropped it, but the flow of the Mother’s power continued unbroken. “He seems nice enough.”

“He does. I just—” Dabiel shook her head. “Be careful.”

“Nothing’s going to happen.”

Dabiel looked away. “I mean, if you do like him, there’s no reason you shouldn’t do whatever you want. We’re journeymen, now, after all.”

Larine thought about the way Shiar’s hands had felt, sliding along her skin. She wasn’t sure whether she’d liked it or not. His palms had calluses from handling ropes, but the roughness had been interesting, not unpleasant. She was almost sure he’d enjoyed touching her. He liked her. He was attracted to her. She definitely liked that.

She chose her words carefully. “We’ll see. I’m not in any hurry. We’ve got the whole voyage to Gemgeda, and the whole trip back.” She shot Dabiel a grin. “Maybe you’ll find one of the sailors who appeals to you.”

“Not likely.” Dabiel snorted. “I think if I was ever going to start caring about that sort of thing, I would have by now.” At Larine’s concerned glance, she shrugged and grinned. “I’ve got much more interesting things to worry about. Like what we’re going to find in Gemgeda. It’s been three months since a wizard visited. Think anything unusual will have come up?”

“I doubt it. It’s going to be mostly older folk with chronic conditions. But the sugaring will still be going on, and there’s always some injuries. Sprains, cuts, burns, that sort of thing.”

“You’ll have to get your father to show me his operation. I can’t quite believe you’re telling me the truth. Maybe your stories about poking holes in trees and getting sugar out are made up tales to fool gullible southerners.”

Anticipation was as sweet as the memory of maple syrup on her tongue. “It won’t be long until you see for yourself.”

Larine fought to wrestle the heavy table from beside the door back to the wall where they’d found it. She threw all her weight against the thick slabs of oak, dragging it across the stone floor of Gemgeda’s small Mother’s Hall a few inches at a time. The intense physical effort made it easier to suppress the tears that threatened to form.

They’d arrived in Gemgeda five days before. Larine’s family had been overjoyed to see her and had extended their welcome to Dabiel when Larine introduced her friend. The two wizards had slept in Larine’s old room, eaten at the table that looked exactly the same as when she’d left, and walked through the streets she remembered clearly. They’d spent their days pouring out the Mother’s power on people whose faces and names she knew, and gone home to sit by the hearth with her beloved family and chat about the day’s events the way Larine had done every evening her whole childhood. Once the worst backlog of cases was dealt with, Larine and Dabiel had taken a couple of hours off one afternoon to accompany her father to the maple forest, and another day had walked the trap line with her mother. It was all just the way she remembered it. Nothing had changed.

And yet, everything had changed. Things were smaller. Colors were dimmer or brighter or subtly different shades than what she saw in her mind’s eye. People were older. Children she didn’t know swarmed around the feet of adults who’d been her peers. Adults she’d looked up to inclined their heads to her with awed respect. They stared at Flutter on her shoulder and gaped open-mouthed when the Mother’s power poured from her hands. Those whose injuries or illnesses they healed thanked her with shaking, wondering voices. They asked her about Elathir and the Wizards’ Guild and listened to her accounts with incredulous amazement.

In their eyes, Larine no longer belonged here. She’d gone off to the exotic city and come home changed. She was a wizard, transformed by the Mother from the simple hometown girl they’d known into a magical stranger.

And the worst part was, it was true. Gemgeda wasn’t home anymore. The things she’d loved weren’t enough for her now. She felt trapped, confined in a shell she’d outgrown. She was impatient for the remaining week of their stay to be over so she could escape. So she could go home.

Dabiel came back in from emptying the basin and rushed to take the other end of the table. “What do you think you’re doing? This is far too heavy to move alone. Don’t make Flutter heal a strained back or broken fingers.”

Larine shook her head, but accepted Dabiel’s help. Together they lugged the table to its place. Then they worked to arrange the chairs into concentric circles, ready for the Restday service in the morning. Larine stayed quiet. Dabiel kept shooting her glances, but didn’t try to talk until the room was in order. When Larine dropped into a chair in the inner ring and stared unseeing out the window, Dabiel came to sit beside her. “What’s wrong?”

Larine didn’t want to answer, but she forced the words out. “Being here—I’ve wanted this for seven years, imagined it, longed for it. I thought I knew exactly what it would be like. But it’s not. I mean, it is, but it’s not as good as I thought it would be.”

Dabiel nodded slowly. Larine could tell she didn’t understand, but she accepted Larine’s feelings, and that was almost as good. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Larine scrubbed her eyes. “I doubt it.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really. It’s just something I have to get used to.” Larine scrubbed her palms on her breeches. Flutter arrowed through the window and landed in her lap in a whirr of wings. Gratefully she lifted him to her chest and smoothed the feathers on his head. He cuddled against her, making low crooning noises of comfort.

Dabiel watched them approvingly, stroking Buttons. “I’m here for you. I’ll be happy to listen if you change your mind.”

The unstinting support of her familiar and her friend eased Larine’s grief. She drew a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. “Thanks.” She moved Flutter to her shoulder and climbed to her feet. She reached for Dabiel’s hand and pulled her up. “We’d better get going. I think Father’s got something special planned for the evening meal. He wouldn’t tell me, but he looked smug whenever I asked.”

“I hope it’s more of those maple-glazed sweet potatoes. I could eat those every day for a year. We’ve got to take as many bottles of maple syrup as he’ll part with back to Elathir.”

“He’ll fill a dozen crates if I ask.” Larine pulled the door open. “I just—” She broke off as she stepped out and collided with Shiar, who was reaching for the handle. Flutter screeched and launched into the air.

Shiar caught Larine as she stumbled. His hands lingered on her arms for a moment after he steadied her. “Sorry about that.”

“It was my fault.” Larine pulled away. “I should have watched where I was going.”

“No harm done.” Shiar stepped back to let Dabiel emerge from the door.

Dabiel eyed him cooly. “What do you want?”

Shiar had continued to press his attentions on Larine during the voyage north. It had flustered her, but she hadn’t wanted him to stop. Dabiel, though, disapproved. She’d taken to glaring at Shiar every time he approached Larine. Larine appreciated her protectiveness, but she resented the implication that Dabiel didn’t trust her to make her own decisions.

So she returned Shiar’s smile more brightly than she might have. “I’m surprised to see you off the ship.”

He ignored Dabiel and grinned warmly at Larine. “A few of us were talking about taking a boat up to see the northern boundary stone, tomorrow after the service. We’d need a wizard along, so I offered to invite you.”

Larine caught her breath. The Law forbade the people of Tevenar from passing the boundary stones, north or south. Wizards were responsible for enforcing the restriction. In all her years in Gemgeda, she’d never been to the landmark. “I’d love to see it.”

Dabiel stepped forward. “Me, too.” The enthusiasm in her voice seemed genuine, but Larine doubted she’d have been interested in going with Shiar if Larine hadn’t accepted the invitation. “Did you know Gurion Thricebound himself built it?”

“Of course.” Shiar’s eyes slid from Dabiel and focused on Larine. “You’re both welcome to come.”

“I promised my parents we’d eat the midday meal with them. Would after that be all right?”

“Certainly. Come down to the dock when you’re finished. The ship’s cook is going to pack us a picnic for the evening meal.”

“We’ll be there.”

Shiar took her hand, squeezed it, and let it slip from his grasp. “Until tomorrow, then.” He gave her a smile rich with promise and turned to head toward the dock.

Dabiel scowled after him. “I don’t trust him. He didn’t want me to come, I could tell. I bet he hoped to get you alone, off where no one could help you. I bet if I hadn’t been here to invite myself along, you’d have gotten to the dock tomorrow and his friends would have mysteriously decided not to go with you after all.”

Larine’s face got hot. “Did you stop to think whether or not I would have liked that?”

“Would you?” Dabiel turned her glare on Larine.

“It doesn’t matter, because you made the choice for me.” Larine’s confused emotions crystallized into annoyance at her friend. “Stop doing that. I can make up my own mind about Shiar. I don’t need your interference.” She raised her hand to Flutter as he swooped to perch again on her shoulder. “And I can take care of myself. I don’t need you to protect me.”

Dabiel jutted out her chin the way she always did when she was being stubborn. “I would think you’d be glad I care enough to look out for you. I’d want you to have my back if some snake was after me.”

“Why do you hate him so much? He’s never done anything but flirt with me. Some people enjoy that, you know.”

Hurt flashed in Dabiel’s eyes. She stepped back. “I don’t know. He just feels untrustworthy to me. But if you like him, I guess that’s none of my business.”

“It’s really not.” Larine resisted the urge to apologize. Dabiel meant well, but she didn’t have any right to tell Larine who she could or couldn’t trust.

“All right, then. Do whatever you want. I’ll stay out of it.” Dabiel mustered a smile and held out her hand. “But let me come along tomorrow anyway? I really do want to see the boundary stone.”

“I could hardly ask you to miss it.” Larine took Dabiel’s offered hand. “Besides, it will be more fun together.”

Dabiel pulled her into a hug. “Thanks. I’ll do my best to stay out of your way if you want to spend time with Shiar. You’re right, you don’t need my protection.” She released Larine and regarded her with concerned affection. “Just don’t hesitate to ask if you need my help.”

“I won’t,” Larine promised. “Now let’s go eat. I’m starving.”

Shiar turned the tiller of the sailboat while the other journeyman sailors swung the sail across. “We should be getting close.”

Larine leaned over the bow and squinted at the shore. She could have sent Flutter to scout ahead, but she wanted her first glimpse of the stone to come through her own eyes, not her familiar’s. She caught her breath as the boat came around a headland and a new stretch of shoreline spread before them. “There.” She pointed.

Dabiel’s intake of breath rewarded her. The tower was tiny in the distance, but unmistakable. Shiar steered the boat toward it as the other sailors pressed forward to exclaim and stare.

As they drew closer, Larine could make out details. The boundary stone was a tall, conical tower of natural rocks, assembled in a fashion that harmonized with the wild surroundings but was clearly the product of human hands. It stood atop an outcrop of rock that jutted into the ocean. Birds wheeled around it, their cries reaching Larine’s ears. Flutter tensed. She felt his desire to fly, but he remained on her shoulder.

Shiar turned the boat into shore while they were still well south. It skimmed through the surf. The rest of the sailors piled out and pushed it onto the beach. Larine and Dabiel climbed out and helped drag it high above the waterline. Dabiel jumped back in and boosted Buttons over the side. The pig sprawled in the sand, scrambled to his feet, and waited for Dabiel to join him, as dignified as if he’d just strolled out of the Guildmaster’s office. Flutter swooped down and landed on his back.

Shiar’s laugh sounded low in Larine’s ear. She turned to see him grinning at Buttons. “Do you know what the sailors call those two?”

“No, what?”

“Breakfast.” He looked at her expectantly.

Larine stared at him, baffled. “What?”

Shiar smirked. “Bacon and eggs.”

For an instant she still didn’t understand. When his meaning sank in, she gasped. Then, to her horror, she giggled. “That’s awful.”

“But funny.”

She shook her head, blocking her thoughts so Flutter wouldn’t overhear. “You shouldn’t joke about familiars that way. It’s disrespectful to the Mother.”

“Then why are you laughing?” He tousled her hair as if he was humoring a child. “You’re cute when you’re scandalized.” His hand slid down to her cheek and lingered a moment before falling away.

Larine scowled at him and turned her back. She stalked over to join Dabiel. Her friend glanced at Shiar but didn’t comment, for which Larine was grateful.

After the boat was secure and the picnic supplies parceled out, the group set off down the beach toward the boundary stone. Larine walked beside Dabiel, ignoring Shiar. He seemed content to leave her alone, at least for the moment.

When they finally reached the foot of the jutting headland, Larine could see that the tower of rocks was bigger than it had appeared from the distance. It rose at least three times as high as a tall man, and the base was a good twenty feet across. Combined with the height of the cliff, the peak was more than fifty feet above the sand where they stood. She craned her head back and stared at the rough cone silhouetted against the bright sky.

Shiar pointed at the forest that bordered the beach. “I bet we can find a trail that leads up there if we search.”

Dabiel frowned at him. “This is close enough.” She shivered and glanced at Buttons. “We can see it fine from here. We shouldn’t risk accidentally stepping past it.”

“Don’t you want to go right up to the base?” Shiar eyed the tower speculatively. “If the gaps are big enough, you might even be able to climb it.”

Dabiel put her hands on her hips. “Don’t you dare!” She swept all the sailors with a withering glance. “I forbid anyone to go closer than this, in the Mother’s name. Buttons and I will stop you if you try.”

The sailors murmured in disappointment, but shrugged when Dabiel didn’t back down. One of them dropped her pack of food on the sand. “I’m hungry, anyway. Let’s find some dead branches and make a fire.” She headed toward the tree line, pointedly angling away from the boundary stone. Most of the other sailors chimed their agreement, deposited their loads, and followed her.

Dabiel stepped close to Shiar. Buttons came to her side and she put a hand on the pig’s head. “I mean it.”

“I’m sure you do, Guildmaster.” Shiar inclined his head with mocking exaggeration. He turned his back, crouched to clear a patch of sand, and pulled out a fire-starting kit.

Larine dragged Dabiel a few yards down the beach. “Was that really necessary?” she hissed.

Dabiel glanced over her shoulder at the tower looming above them. “Don’t you feel it? It’s like there’s an invisible wall, and I get more nervous the closer I come to it. Buttons is so jumpy he’s making my skin crawl.”

Larine was unsettled, too, and Flutter was giving the tower a wide berth as he circled overhead, but she didn’t feel anything as acute as what Dabiel described. “You’re imagining it.”

Dabiel hugged her torso. “Maybe I am. I just know I’m not going to risk breaking the Law. Either by going any closer myself, or letting anyone else do it. Curiosity isn’t worth a broken bond.”

Larine looked at the tower and sighed. She would have liked to see it up close. Maybe even lay her hands on the stones Gurion Thricebound had set in place. But she nodded. “I guess you’re right.”

They went back to where Shiar was arranging a ring of rocks to contain a fire. Larine rummaged through packs until she found a picnic cloth to spread on the sand, and Dabiel sorted the food and set it out. When the other sailors got back, hauling armloads of wood, Shiar had a small blaze going in the kindling. With rapid skill the sailors fed the flames until it was a roaring bonfire. They speared sausages on long sticks and roasted them, toasted bread and cheese, and wrapped sweet potatoes and apples in damp leaves to smolder in the coals. Afterward, everyone sprawled on the sand, replete.

Larine stared into the flickering depths of the fire, entranced by the dancing, twisting flames. She was so intent that she jumped when a hand fell on her shoulder. She jerked around to see Shiar extending his hand. “Come for a walk with me?”

She looked around. Several of the sailors had fallen asleep. Others were wandering along the beach. Dabiel stood far down the shore, Buttons at her side, staring out at the surf. Flutter had found a perch high in a pine tree. Larine looked through his eyes as he scanned the forest floor for any twitch that would indicate prey.

Swallowing, she accepted Shiar’s hand and let him pull her to her feet. “All right.”

He led her toward the trees. “Let’s look for a stream. We can refill the water skins before we sail back.”

She doubted they’d have much luck, but she followed him into the forest. Deep shade quickly swallowed them. At first they struggled through thick undergrowth, but after a while Shiar exclaimed in pleasure and stepped onto an overgrown but distinct path. “I knew there had to be one. Those stones didn’t get up there by themselves. And I expect we’re not the first to want to climb up to them, either.”

Larine halted, staring at him. “Dabiel said—”

“Are you going to let her keep you away when we’ve come this far? There’s no danger. You can make sure I don’t misbehave just as well as she can.” The teasing challenge in his voice and eyes suggested it wasn’t only the boundary stone he was talking about.

Larine swallowed. She really did want to see the stone. Before she could change her mind, she stepped onto the path. “All right.”

They wound through the woods. Before long the trail started to climb. Shiar took Larine’s arm and helped her up the steepest sections. The trees grew thinner and shorter, twisted into strange shapes by the wind that whistled over the headland. They emerged from their cover to find the boundary stone a few hundred feet ahead, huge and stark against the sky.

Larine nervously checked, but the path ran a dozen feet to the south of the stone. Shiar quickened his pace, tugging her hand. She sped up, and he broke into a run, towing her with him. She raced at his side, heart pounding, wind in her eyes. The trail ended in a patch of gravel at the base of the stone. Shiar collapsed against the bottom rank of boulders and pulled Larine against him. She fell onto his heaving chest, panting, her breath rasping in counterpoint to his. Fear and thrill warred within her at the feel of his hot body along the length of hers.

She stared at him, and he gazed back, relaxed and smug and certain. His arms closed around her and pressed her even closer. His eyes focused on her lips and his head bent, but sudden panic overwhelmed her, and she struggled to get away. He let go, but grudgingly, his hands sliding along her arms and trying to clasp her wrists before she twisted them from his grip. Larine backed away, her legs rubbery and her head swimming with confused, conflicting impulses.

“What’s wrong?” Shiar reclined against the stones of the tower and folded his hands behind his head, a half-smile playing around his lips.

“Nothing. I just—I didn’t expect—”

He shrugged and quirked an eyebrow. “But you liked it, didn’t you?”

The terrifying thing was, she had. A big part of Larine wanted nothing more than to throw herself back into his embrace and find out what his lips felt like against hers. For the moment, caution held her back, but she wasn’t entirely sure why she was resisting. Surely she had nothing to fear from Shiar. “Maybe.”

A sultry grin spread across his face. His eyes traveled over her body. “I certainly did.”

Larine felt as if her tunic and breeches had gone transparent and his hungry gaze was devouring her naked flesh. She stepped back, wrapping her arms around her chest. Desperate to divert his attention, she jerked her head up to indicate the boundary stone towering above them. Her voice sounded high and breathless in her ears. “It’s even bigger than it looked from the beach.”

His smile told her he knew very well what she was doing, but he pushed to his feet and came to stand beside her, slinging an arm around her shoulders while he tilted his head back to look. His fingers massaged her upper arm. “They had to make it big, so it could be seen from a few leagues out.” He gave a scoffing laugh. “Don’t want the children to wander off and get lost.”

She gaped at him. “What do you mean?”

Shiar released her and strode to the base of the tower. He surveyed it for a moment, his expression calculating, then reached for a gap between the stones. He climbed swiftly and surely, his hands and feet finding easy purchase. His voice floated down. “You don’t really believe there’s anything to be afraid of out there, do you?” Larine’s heart clutched as he waved extravagantly toward the shore and ocean beyond the stone.

She considered calling Flutter so they could catch him with the Mother’s power if he fell, but she didn’t want her familiar to see how close they were to breaking the Law. “Of course there is. Haven’t you read the Histories? Our ancestors escaped enemies who were trying to destroy them. Staying within the bounds of Tevenar is the only thing that lets the Mother keep us safe from them.”

Shiar snorted. “They’re only people. If they even exist.” He resumed his progress upward. “It wouldn’t surprise me if the Histories are nothing but made-up stories, created to keep the people of Tevenar obedient to the wizards.” He resumed his progress upward.

Larine stared at him. She winced when his foot missed its hold and scrabbled at the stone before finding purchase. “You can’t mean that.”

He paused to grin over his shoulder. “You should climb up here, too. The view is amazing.”

“I’m not crazy!”

He laughed and pulled himself up the last few feet to the peak of the tower. “Oh, come on, this is nothing. Much easier than climbing the rigging.” He braced his feet and straightened, spreading his arms wide. “It’s like being on top of the world.” A gust of wind whipped his hair and he swayed.

Larine clamped her hands over her mouth to stifle a scream. Maybe he was just teasing her, but maybe he truly was about to lose his balance. She really should call Flutter.

Shiar twisted to look down at her. When he was sure she was watching, he made a sweeping gesture, extending his arm well past the narrow pointed stone that capped the tower. “Just look at all that unexplored coast. And the ocean beyond. We could go there, you and me. Who cares about a stupid law that doesn’t serve any purpose? Come with me, and I’ll take you farther than anyone’s been for generations. The whole world could be ours.”

“Get down from there.” Larine clenched her fists. “You’ve got to stop. Otherwise I’m going to have to call Flutter and make you.”

He pulled his arm back, but instead of climbing down he maneuvered around the peak, stopping only after his whole body had crossed the plane into forbidden territory. He grinned down at Larine in taunting challenge. “Go ahead. Call your bird and drag me back.” He crossed his arms and lifted his face to the wind.

Indecision tore Larine. Her responsibility as a wizard was clear, but still she hesitated. He was so strong and bold and defiant, standing unafraid at the edge of the unknown. She wanted to laugh in delight and clamber to join him. She wanted to take his hand and race recklessly north, leaving rules and restrictions behind. She wanted to feel his lips on hers and his hands on her body. She didn’t want Flutter watching them with the Mother’s eyes, judging and condemning.

Shiar held her gaze for a long moment more. Eventually he raised his eyes to scan the sky behind her, his expression pleased but unsurprised when he found it empty. “I didn’t think so.”

“Please,” Larine begged. “Come down. Stop pushing.”

“But I like pushing boundaries.” Shiar cast a final longing look over his shoulder and lazily reached for a lower foothold. “Then again, I can hardly refuse when you’re begging me to come to you.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Shiar ignored her and quickened his pace, swarming down the rocks at what seemed to Larine a reckless speed. Her heart raced. She tried to believe it was only because of his danger, but as he descended without mishap she knew it was also in anticipation of what he’d do when he reached the ground.

He chose a path that took him down the seaward side, along the invisible line that bisected the tower. His feet hit the ground just beyond the border. He stepped away from the tower and extended an inviting hand to Larine. “What are you going to do? Come with me? Or haul me back?”

Her steps dragged, but she couldn’t resist his pull. She stopped just out of his reach. “I can’t cross the border. Flutter would break our bond, and I’d deserve it.”

He inclined his head. “Then I guess you’ll have to persuade me to cross back.”

“Please.” Larine reached out and grasped his hand.

His fingers tightened around hers, but he didn’t move. “I will if you tell me the truth. Why do you want me to step over that line?” He nodded at the ground. Nothing visible marked the border of Tevenar, but Larine could see it, cutting between her and Shiar like the wall Dabiel had described.

“Because you’re breaking the Law. Because I don’t want to have to drag you back by force.”

“Is that all?” He raised her hand to his mouth, never taking his eyes from hers. His lips brushed her knuckles, soft and warm. Larine swallowed.

His other hand joined the first, and he gently massaged her palm and fingers. His touch aroused a swirling rush of response in Larine. It clouded her mind and made it difficult to concentrate on his words. “Because I think it’s not. I think you want me to step across the boundary and into your arms.”

Larine couldn’t answer. He went on, soft and passionate. “That’s what I want. You’re beautiful, Larine. I can’t stop looking at you. You make me want to touch you and hold you and kiss you. And more. I can make you happy, Larine, I swear. I can show you things you’ve never seen, make you feel things you’ve never felt before. You haven’t, have you?”

Mutely, she shook her head. His eyes were so dark and intense, his voice so deep and rich, his words so sincere, and so tempting. “Let me be the one to take you there. I promise, you’ll never regret it.”

Desire rose in Larine’s throat, her heart, her gut. She thought of Hanion, but he was far away, and he’d never looked at her like this. Shiar wanted her. Hanion didn’t. Nothing bound her to Hanion except childish, one-sided infatuation. Shiar offered a real, adult, mutual relationship. The choice should be easy.

It wasn’t, though. Larine tried to force words past her numb lips, but acceptance and refusal jammed together and blocked her throat until she had to fight for breath. She closed her eyes and struggled to understand what she truly wanted.

Shiar drew her hand close again. She felt his hot breath caress her skin and his soft lips travel over it. She let the sensation sweep through her, testing her body’s response. She did like it. Very much. She craved more. She drew in her breath when he took the tip of one finger in his mouth and sucked it, caressing it with his tongue. For an instant it felt shocking, invasive. But that passed, and it became a welcome intimacy, hinting at deeper intimacies to come. She wanted him to continue. She wanted him to push past her boundaries, into her body and heart.

Greatly daring, she opened her eyes. His eyes were fixed on her face. They burned into hers. She dropped her gaze and gave a tiny, jerky nod.

His breath exploded out and he stepped forward, enveloping her in a crushing embrace. His hands roamed her back and neck and hair. His mouth descended on hers and his tongue thrust between her lips. The sensation was overwhelming and frightening and intensely pleasurable. Larine couldn’t think, only react. Her arms went around him and her fingers dug into his back, clinging to him, drowning in feelings she didn’t understand, but wanted to.

He pulled back and grinned at her, breathing hard, exulting and triumphant. “I told you you’d like it.”

She nodded, a bit more than before. He dipped to brush her lips, then withdrew, his expression teasing. “Tell me what you want.”

Caution was clamoring for attention somewhere in the back of her head, but the raging storm of desire drowned it out. Her voice was thick, her tongue clumsy. “More.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” He bent to kiss her again. This time he was slow, languid, holding back until frustration drove Larine to desperate, pleading whimpers. He chuckled deep in his throat and gave her what she ached for, though not quite long or deep enough to satisfy her. Then he parted his lips, inviting her inside. Greatly daring, she ventured to explore, rewarded both by new, delicious sensations and his rumble of appreciation.

Larine didn’t know how long they kissed. She only knew she hadn’t yet gotten enough when Flutter’s tentative voice broke into her mind. Ah, Larine? I’m sorry to interrupt, but Dabiel wants to know where you are. The sailors are saying we need to leave soon or it will be dark before we get back.

Smash it. Larine dragged herself away from Shiar, letting him see her disappointment but concealing it from her familiar. It’s all right. I’ll be back in a few minutes. Out loud, she said, “The others are looking for us. They say it’s time to head back to Gemgeda.”

Shiar glanced at the angle of the sun over the distant inland mountains and sighed. He stroked Larine’s hair. “I hate to admit it, but they’re right. We can dock in the dark if we have to, but we didn’t bring lanterns, so I’d rather avoid the risk.”

Her body protested when she disengaged from his embrace. He took her hand and led her back down the path. She cast a last look over her shoulder at the boundary stone, then turned to focus on the steep, treacherous trail.

Neither of them spoke until they neared the edge of the forest. Larine waited for Shiar to break the silence, but he seemed content to let things stand without further words. Her face burned, but she had to clarify what he expected before they rejoined the others and could no longer speak frankly. Maybe he’d gotten everything he wanted from her and would move on to someone else. Maybe her awkward, inexperienced fumbling had dampened whatever desire he’d had for her. Surely he couldn’t crave more private moments together with the same fierce desperation she felt.

She cleared her throat. “What are we going to do now?”

He didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “Continue where we left off, whenever we get the chance. At least, that’s what I want. Do you?”

Larine released her breath in an explosive sigh. “Yes.” She wanted to question him further, but she couldn’t find the courage.

Shiar stopped and took her hands. “Larine, I love you. You’re the one I’ve been looking for, the only one I’ll ever want. When we get back to Elathir, will you stand up with me?”

She stared at him, too shocked to speak. He touched her lips with his fingertips. “I know this is sudden. You don’t have to answer me now. Take as long as you need to think about it. But I don’t see any point in waiting. Now that I’ve found you, I never want to be without you again.”

When he released her hands, she shook her head and rubbed her eyes. “Shiar, how could it work? You’re a sailor and I’m a wizard. You’ll be gone on voyages most of the time, and I have to stay at the Mother’s Hall. We’d be lucky if we got a few days together a month.”

“We’ll make it work.” His voice was blithely confident.

Larine wanted to share his certainty, but doubts clouded her heart. He said he loved her, although she found that hard to believe when they’d only met two weeks ago. She didn’t think she loved him. Not yet. Maybe she could, in time. Surely if they loved each other they could make a marriage work despite the obstacles, but it would require a great deal of commitment from both of them. She didn’t know if either of them were capable of that.

She spread her hands. “You don’t have to do this. I’ll be happy to do whatever you want without tangling ourselves up in binding promises.”

“This is what I want.” He grinned. “Although we certainly don’t have to wait until our wedding night if you’re impatient.”

She didn’t know what she wanted. She rubbed her face. “I’m sorry. I’m confused, and overwhelmed, and scared. You deserve better than this.”

“Nothing is better than this.” He kissed her briefly and pushed through the screening line of trees onto the beach. She trailed behind him.

Flutter swooped to her shoulder and snuggled against her neck, but her familiar’s fierce affection didn’t comfort her as it usually did. Dabiel eyed her sharply but refrained from comment. The others had already loaded the boat. Larine helped Dabiel boost Buttons in. Shiar joined them; his added strength made it easy to lift the heavy pig over the side. He gave Larine a conspiratorial grin, but thankfully didn’t say anything inappropriate. Dabiel thanked him, her words curt and her voice flat. He responded with easy friendliness, nodded to them both, and went to take his place at the tiller.

Larine sat beside Dabiel on the bench in the bow where they’d ridden on the trip up. Dabiel didn’t speak until they were well out at sea. Finally, when Larine was growing uncomfortable with her silence, she abruptly asked, “Did he hurt you?”

Shocked, Larine glared at her. “Of course not!”

“Did he push you to do things you didn’t want to?”

“No!” Larine’s face got hot, remembering. “I wanted to.”

“Did he ask if you did?”

“Several times. I said yes.”

Dabiel let out her breath forcefully and her shoulders slumped. “All right. I was so worried, the way he looked at you… But I guess I was wrong.”

Larine put her hand on Dabiel’s arm. “I admit, I was nervous. And he did… encourage me. Maybe even push me a little. But he didn’t touch me until I agreed.” Not much, anyway. But she wasn’t going to tell Dabiel that. “And, Dab… it was amazing. I enjoyed it very much. I didn’t want to stop.”

Dabiel hugged her. Larine rejoiced to hear the warmth back in her voice. “I’m glad, Lar. If you’re happy, I’m happy. I’ll even try to be nice to him for your sake.”

“Thanks.” She’d better not admit the rest, but maybe she could prepare her friend to hear it when the time was right. “I’m not sure, but I think this might be a long-term thing. He really likes me, and I…” She couldn’t quite bring herself to put her feelings into words.

Dabiel stiffened and stared at her. After a moment she turned away. “Don’t rush into anything.”

“I won’t.”

For a long time, they watched the waves slide under the hull as the sailboat sped south. Eventually Dabiel shot her a sidelong look. “You know, I always expected that someday you and Hanion…”

Larine shrugged, hiding the pang his name provoked. “He’s never thought of me as anything but a little sister.”

“Maybe not, but a few years difference in age shouldn’t matter as much now you’re both journeymen.”

Larine laughed, trying to make her voice light and careless. “He was never anything but an apprentice daydream. Besides, he and Tonia seem very committed to each other.”

Dabiel waved the comment away. “That was almost over before we left. You ought to at least talk to him before you make any permanent decisions.”

The thought twisted Larine’s bowels into knots, but she knew Dabiel was right. If she stood up with Shiar without ever seeing if there was a chance Hanion might someday return her affections, she’d always wonder if things might have been different. If Hanion confirmed she was right about his lack of feelings for her, she could marry Shiar with no doubts or regrets.

“I’ll do that. As soon as we get back.” Relief flooded her. She’d certainly continue to enjoy private intimacies with Shiar during the voyage home, but she wouldn’t let it go too far. She was an adult now, a grown woman who knew what she wanted. She didn’t have to wait for Hanion to seek her out. She could approach him and ask him outright how he felt. If she was wrong about his indifference, and he looked at her with the same sort of desire that Shiar did, she knew which of them she’d choose. But if he didn’t, she wouldn’t pine for him or wait for him to change his mind. She’d let the impossible fantasy go and embrace reality. She’d want the man who wanted her, not the one who didn’t.

The wizards relaxing around the hearth in the dining hall looked up and exclaimed in pleasure when Larine and Dabiel joined them. Master Idan and Master Tasha rose from the couch where they’d been relaxing and came to hug their journeymen. Their familiars greeted each other with sniffs and squawks. Friends dragged chairs up, brought drinks and snacks from the kitchen, and urged Larine and Dabiel to give an account of their journey.

Hanion was there among the rest, as pleased as everyone else to see the travelers returned. Larine snatched glances at him whenever he wasn’t looking, testing her feelings against her new experience. He was still the most handsome man she’d ever seen. She imagined how it would feel to do with him the things she and Shiar had done together, and her face got hot and her stomach clenched in longing. She liked Shiar, and she was coming to care about him on a level deeper than merely physical attraction, but if Hanion ever so much as took her hand and looked into her eyes, she’d tumble head-over-heels into love with him without a second thought.

After Dabiel finished telling the highlights of their trip to Gemgeda, with Larine chiming in occasionally, the lute player who’d been quietly strumming in the background resumed singing, as she’d been doing when they arrived. She was very good, her voice sweet and high, the melodies and words of her songs enhancing each other. Larine applauded enthusiastically with everyone else when she reached the end of her set, and dropped a generous tip in her cup.

It was growing late. A number of the wizards were bidding their friends good-night and leaving for their rooms. Larine pressed her lips together and took a deep breath. Now was the perfect time to draw Hanion aside and say the things she’d been rehearsing in her head the whole trip home.

She looked around, but didn’t see him. Just as she was about to conclude, with a mixture of disappointment and relief, that he’d gone to bed and she’d missed her chance, she spotted him coming from the kitchen, a cup in each hand. Before she could lose her nerve, she hurried over and planted herself in his path. “Hello, Hanion.”

He beamed at her. “It’s so good to have you and Dabiel back. How was Gemgeda? I bet your family was excited to see you after so long.”

She smiled at him, trying to convey her pleasure at his company without betraying the full depth of her feelings. “Mother didn’t stop talking the whole time, and Father cooked me a five-course feast every evening. Maple in everything, of course. I didn’t get tired of the taste, but it was close.”

He laughed. “Bring back any of that amazing maple mead?”

“Three cases. Enough to last through the winter, if I’m careful who I share it with.” She took a deep breath. “You’ll get your portion, of course.”

“There’s nothing better than sharing a bottle of mead with a friend by the fire on a cold winter night.” His voice was warm and sincere, but she couldn’t tell if there was more than brotherly affection in it.

If their relationship was going to change, it was up to her to make the first move. She crushed her fear and forced her voice to remain steady and casual. “How’s Tonia? I haven’t seen her here tonight.”

Hanion shifted his weight. “She’s fine, as far as I know. We’re not actually seeing each other any more. She called it off not long after you left.”

Larine’s heart leapt. Dabiel had been right. She fought to keep the pleasure out of her voice. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine.” He shrugged. “It was very amicable. We both agreed we weren’t right for each other.”

This was her chance. Now or never. Larine gathered all her courage. “In that case—”

But his eyes had traveled past her, and his face lit up with a tender, wondering smile that sent Larine’s heart crashing into her boots. “In fact, it was the best thing that could have happened, because then I met Semira.”

Larine turned to see the singer approaching, her face as bright and joyous as Hanion’s. She accepted one of the cups from him and drank eagerly. “Oh, that’s exactly what I needed. Singing is thirsty work.” She grinned at Hanion, then turned to Larine. Her expression was open and friendly, no trace of jealousy or suspicion. “Introduce me to your friend.”

Hanion put his arm around Semira’s shoulders. “This is Larine Hunterkin Wizard. We’ve been friends since we were apprentices. Larine, this is Semira Playerkin Singer.” He gave her a doting look. “We’re going to stand up together at Harvest.”

A wave of ice swept Larine from her scalp to her toes. She couldn’t speak, but it didn’t matter, because neither Hanion nor Semira was paying any attention to her.

Semira giggled, gazing into Hanion’s eyes, clearly as besotted as he was. “We didn’t want to wait that long, but my sister’s troupe won’t be back until then, and I’d hate for her to miss it.” She stroked his cheek. “I’m so glad your friends are back, too. Everyone we care about should be there to support us when we begin our lives together.”

“I agree.” Joy radiated from Hanion’s face and sang in his voice.

Pain stabbed Larine’s heart, but he was so happy, she couldn’t even wish things were different. This was her answer. Hanion was her past, and Shiar was her future. If she and Shiar could find even a tenth of the love that Hanion and Semira so obviously shared, they’d be lucky indeed.

She cleared her throat. Her voice sounded stilted and cold in her ears, but neither of the others seemed to notice. “Congratulations.” She forced her lips into a smile. “You two aren’t the only ones who’re going to be standing up soon. I met someone while I was gone, a sailor on our ship. The captain’s journeyman. We haven’t decided when yet, but Harvest might be good. His ship should be in port then.”

Semira’s delight was so genuine it obviously hadn’t occurred to her to consider Larine a rival or threat. It might have been easier if she did. It wasn’t comfortable, liking the person who’d destroyed your dreams. “That would be wonderful! Who else can we get together by then, Hanion? I have an extensive repertoire of love songs, if a few serenades would help. Let’s see if we can make next Harvest a bigger day for weddings than last Springtide.”

“Whatever you want.” Hanion tore his gaze away from her and focused on Larine. Something in the way he looked at her told her he’d known she might not take the news well and was relieved to find that his fear was apparently baseless. “Congratulations to you, too. You’ll have to bring your sailor to the Hall and introduce him.”

“I’ll do that. Tomorrow, maybe.” Shiar had been pressing her for a decision. He’d be delighted when she agreed. After she introduced him to everyone in the Guild and he’d won them over with his easy charm, she could take him upstairs to her room and they could celebrate in greater comfort and privacy than the ship had afforded. They’d have to talk about whether they wanted to look for an apartment to share, or whether she’d keep her lodgings in the Hall, since he’d be at sea so much. Wizards’ spouses and families were welcome to live in the Hall, although most couples moved out before they had children.

Semira chatted away while they settled into seats near the hearth. When Hanion told Dabiel the news, she shot Larine a quick look, then turned back to offer her congratulations with sincere enthusiasm. Later, Semira took up her lute again and sang, love song after beautiful love song, never taking her adoring eyes off Hanion.

Larine wanted to flee, but she made herself stay and listen to the music. Tears gathered in her eyes, but she dashed them away before they could fall. Her future was bright, holding the promise of great happiness, if she was willing to embrace it. She wouldn’t spoil it mourning for something that never could have been.

Finally Semira brought the music to a close, and the gathering broke up. Larine bid everyone good-night and headed to her room. She shut the door behind her, savoring the quiet solitude.

Before she could start getting ready for bed, a knock sounded. Larine cursed beneath her breath and opened the door. Dabiel stood there. She studied Larine with worried eyes. “Can I come in?”

“Sure.” Larine stood aside. “Only for a minute, though. I’m very tired.”

“Me, too.” Dabiel waited while she closed the door, then took Larine’s hands. “Are you all right?”

Larine swallowed hard and nodded.

Her friend squeezed her hands. “I’m so sorry.”

Larine shook her head and pressed her eyes shut. Dabiel pulled her into a long, wordless hug. Larine dropped her head to Dabiel’s shoulder, the grief she’d tried to contain breaking free and pouring from her in deep, wrenching sobs. Dabiel stroked her back and hair, silently patient, until Larine’s tears were spent and her shaking stopped. Finally, when her breathing had slowed to something approaching normal, Dabiel led her to the bed and made her sit down. She fetched a washcloth from the cupboard, dampened it at the washbasin, and came to sit by Larine’s side and gently wipe her face. The cool cloth soothed Larine’s hot cheeks and burning eyes.

“Forget Hanion. He’s a jerk. He doesn’t deserve you. If he hasn’t noticed how you feel about him in all this time, you’re better off without him.”

Larine nodded mutely. Part of her wanted to defend Hanion, but a bigger part relished Dabiel’s disdain.

“Marry Shiar and get busy enjoying life. Show Hanion what he missed. In a few years when he gets tired of that giggly songbird, he’ll be sorry. But you won’t care, because you’ll be deliriously happy with your strong, handsome sailor, who’s twice the lover Hanion will ever be.”

Despite herself, Larine choked out a laugh. Dabiel nodded in satisfaction. “That’s more like it. You don’t need anyone who isn’t desperately in love with you, begging your permission for the privilege of worshipping you. If that’s Shiar, good. If not, dump him, too, and find someone who will. Or don’t. You don’t need anyone else to be happy.”

Larine sniffled. Dabiel offered her a handkerchief, which Larine accepted and used to blow her nose. She grinned wanly at her friend.

“Feeling better?”

“Much. Thank you.”

Dabiel pointed imperiously at Larine’s pillow. “Get a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow you can spend all day healing people. After the Mother’s power flows through you for a few hours, you won’t even remember why you were unhappy.”

The thought of the warm golden light filling her was comforting. Larine sighed and nodded.

A swift blur shot through the open window and landed on the perch beside the bed. Flutter regarded Larine with concern. Are you all right? I was hunting when I felt you crying. I came back as fast as I could.

I’m fine. Dabiel helped me. Larine reached for her familiar. He hopped into her lap and pressed his warm body against her.

Dabiel stroked the falcon’s head and rose. “Good. Flutter, I’m trusting her to you. Don’t leave her alone tonight. She should be over the worst of it tomorrow.”

Tell her I won’t. Flutter pulled away from Larine to bob his head earnestly at Dabiel, then plastered himself back against her body. No matter what happens, you’ve always got me.

I know. I’m glad. Thank the Mother she’d chosen Larine as a wizard. Between Dabiel and Flutter, she knew she’d always have steadfastly loyal support. “He says he won’t.” She bent her head to breathe the falcon’s wild, musky scent. “Thanks, Dab.”

“My joy is in the service.” She grinned at Larine to lighten the formality of the traditional words, but Larine knew she meant them. “I’m heading back to my room. Buttons is probably asleep already. If you need me, send Flutter to wake me up. I’ll leave my window open.”

“I will. Good-night.”

“Good-night.” Dabiel slipped through the door and eased it closed.

Larine stripped off her clothes and dropped them on the floor. She’d clean up tomorrow, before she brought Shiar up. Right now, all she wanted was to burrow under the blankets and go to sleep.