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Ferris frowned at the awkward figure approaching through the orchard. It was just like Nod Woolson to hike up to the Manor the morning Prince Brizen was expected to arrive. Of all her suitors, he really was the worst. From his rough hands to the spot under his chin he always missed while shaving, he was the exact opposite of what she wished for in a swain. Even Hern knew better than to press his suit. Other young women in Valing might think him a catch, with his broad shoulders, fine pastures, and stone house close by Forning Spring, but Ferris wanted nothing to do with him. She dreamed more grandly, and Nod Woolson represented exactly what she wished to leave behind.
Sighing, she sliced the top off another strawberry from the bowl in her lap and reminded herself it had been a while since Reiffen had visited her, even in her dreams.
There was no escape once the farmer found her, so Ferris resigned herself to another round of tedious wooing. As Nod smoothed his flat yellow locks into place and joined her, she told herself that sharing a kiss with him in the moonlight would be only slightly more romantic than sharing one with Mother Peek’s prize bull, Dewlap King.
“Here. I brought you these.” Nod abruptly handed Ferris the bouquet he had brought, the same way he might hang a pitchfork on a wall. “Picked ‘em myself from ma’s garden.”
“You shouldn’t have.” Ferris dropped the flowers on the rock beside her since the strawberries were already in her lap.
“Oh, yes I should.” A pair of yellow butterflies fled over the edge of the cliff as Nod sat heavily on the other side of his present. “Ma tells me I need to treat you nice if I’m ever goin’ t’ bring you round t’ my way of thinking.”
Ferris made an effort not to sigh a second time. “I’ve told you before, Nod. I’m very flattered, but I think you might find the girls in Eastbay more to your liking.”
“You’re the one I fancy,” he said stubbornly.
“But I don’t fancy you, Nod.”
Sullen disappointment flooded the farmer’s ruddy face. Ferris almost regretted her inability to be any nicer when turning her suitors down. But it was just too annoying. How many times did they have to be told? His long face almost plowing the ground, Nod picked a stalk of grass and stuck it between his large, square teeth. Noticing a fresh scuff mark on his boots, he rubbed at it with a broad thumb.
“You’ve got to stop pestering me someday, you know,” she went on. “I’d never be happy milking cows and making butter, and that means you’d never be happy either.”
“Hern says you churn a good tub.” The farmer’s tone was determined, but he lacked the courage to look his heart’s desire in the face as he spoke.
“Being able to do a good job doesn’t necessarily mean I like it.”
“Sour heart makes sour butter, ma always says.”
Ferris rolled her eyes. “I’m not your grandmother, to be swapping old saws with by the hearth. I’ve seen more of the world than just Valing.”
This admission of the basic difference between them brought a pained sigh from the lovestruck farmer. “I wish you hadn’t o’ gone off an’ done that. You an’ I might be livin’ cozy as hatched chicks by now. Why don’t you go an’ marry that Prince Brizen, if you like the outside so much. I know I’m just a dub of a farmer, but I love you as much as him. An’ I’ll bet his sheep don’t shear near as thick as mine. Nor his cows have sweeter milk, neither.”
His long speech finished, the longest Ferris had ever heard from him, Nod tucked his chin back into his chest and nursed his sore-heartedness along with his stalk of grass. Ferris would have pitied his misery had she not been sure it would pass once his practical side took over and he settled down with one of the girls who could truly love him.
“Prince Brizen is not your concern,” she told him.
“Well, if it isn’t him, it’s Avender. I know it isn’t Norby Brad. Even my sis knows Norby’s a moony tup. But Avender don’t care for you no more’n a milk stool, the little time he spends in Valing these days.”
Ferris straightened haughtily. Brizen was one thing, but Avender was another matter entirely. Nod should know better than to think Avender had anything to do with it. “I’ll have you know I got a letter from Avender a month ago. He and Redburr were on their way to the Waste, to ride with the Backford troopers.”
Nod frowned, his heavy chin narrowing sulkily. “Fine, then. You run after your worldly friends while you’re breakin’ the hearts of honest farmers.”
“I’ve never broken your heart, Nod Woolson. You’re doing that job yourself.” Now she was just irritated enough not to care how hard she sounded. “You have any number of girls longing to marry you. Why, Renny Punter would take you tomorrow if you thought long enough to ask. And she’d make you a better wife than I ever would, too, because she’d want to. Here, give Renny these.” She thrust the bundle of pink and yellow blossoms back into the farmer’s rough grip. “She’ll like them a lot more than I ever will.”
Without giving Nod the opportunity to say another word, Ferris popped to her feet and strode off with her strawberries to the Manor. Glimpsing her mother’s face in the kitchen window, she decided to wait a while before returning to the house. Prince Brizen wasn’t expected before late afternoon at the earliest, so she didn’t have to get ready right away. For him she would condescend to take off her apron, even if he was as foolish as Nod in his own, more considerate, way.
Setting the bowl of strawberries on the porch railing, she took a left turn and followed the long gallery the length of the Manor. It had been a wet spring, and the plume of midsummer mist rolling up out of the gorge looked like a white column supporting the sky. The ground thrummed as she cut back across the damp grass at the end of the house and gazed into the chasm at the western end of the Neck. The Tear peeped up through the veiling fog like a mother playing peekaboo with her child.
To most of Valing the Tear was a cursed place. Nolo had built it as a refuge for Giserre, and no one had lived there since she left. “Shows what happens when people take on airs,” Mother Spinner had sniffed on more than one occasion. All the same, Hern made certain the half-bridge and the round room beyond remained clean and free of mice and squirrels.
Ferris followed the stone stair down. Inside the Tear she circled the ring of mullioned windows, tracing her fingers along the glass. Outside, the mist swirled as the lake threw itself down the chasm in a frothing rage. Memories of visits with Giserre, both as a small, awestruck child and as a young girl accustomed to such privileges, filtered through her mind. She had always admired Giserre and had tried to learn whatever the elegant woman, so much younger than her own mother, would teach her.
The dark oak doors at the entrance opened. “I thought I’d find you here,” said Hern.
Ferris descended the circling tiers to the center of the room, where the hearth lay cold and bare. Her mother followed down the steps from the door.
“Did Nod ask you to marry him again?” she asked.
“I didn’t give him the chance.”
Hern’s forehead wrinkled. “I know you’re not interested in Nod, dear, but you really should let him have his say. If only for practice. Some day someone you like will come along and, if you’re so used to being a bear, you might scare him off before you know what you’ve done.”
“I practice with Brizen.”
“You certainly do, and I’m surprised he keeps coming back. He won’t forever, you know. That pretty Lady Wellin will catch him one of these days, and that’ll be a good chance missed. You won’t find princes knocking on your door every day.”
“Who says I’m looking for a prince?” Ferris plopped down among the cushions on the lowest bench and fingered the embroidery. A flock of nokken raced a fleet of canoes across a blue velvet background.
“Please, dear. We all look for princes. You’ve just happened to find a pair of real ones.”
“I never thought of Reiffen as a prince.”
“Oh no?” Hern’s eyes widened suspiciously. “Then you’re the only one. Perhaps I should have had you scrubbing the kitchen floor a little more so you’d been able to tell the difference.”
“If I marry a prince I’ll never scrub a floor again.” Ferris brushed her fingers across the rich fabric, enjoying the softness. “Princesses don’t work in kitchens. They lie around all day eating plums and chocolate cake.”
Trying hard not to show her curiosity, Hern sat on the bench beside her daughter. “Is it really the prince you prefer? I always thought it was someone else.”
Ferris wondered if her mother had figured it out. Hern’s next words proved she hadn’t.
“Avender’s been away a long time. He only comes home once or twice a year now. If that’s been your hope, Ferris, he certainly hasn’t given any indication that his is the same.”
“Avender’s my oldest friend, mother, and knows I’ve never thought of him that way. Unlike most of the geese that pass for men around here, Avender has the sense not to dream about what he knows is impossible.”
“Impossible? Why should it be impossible? You’ve always liked him. And Reiffen’s been gone a long time. We all know where your heart was headed then, Ferris. But that’s impossible now. Even you know that. We don’t always get our first pick off the tree, dear,” she added in her kindest voice.
“I know, Mother. Which is why I’d appreciate it if you’d leave me alone and let nature take its course.”
“That’s just what I’m not going to do.” Hern smoothed her apron. “If I leave you alone, you’ll be off traipsing around the world, nursing your sore heart just like Nod Woolson, and never settle down. Why do you think I haven’t pushed harder for you to take the prince? It’s because I know you don’t love him. But you like him, and that’s a start. And don’t think your father and I aren’t proud he loves you. Our grandchildren, the heirs to Wayland and Banking? We may be Valing folk, but we like to see our own do well the same as anyone else. Better you than those pieces of fluff that pass for ladies in Malmoret. If you did marry Brizen, your children could spend every summer with us. That way we’d be sure they had some sense in their heads.”
Ferris eyed her mother sternly. “You’d call Brizen’s children heirs to Wayland and Banking? Really, mother. As much as anyone, you know who the true heir is. You were there the day he was born.”
“Yes, but Reiffen’s gone now.” Hern stroked her daughter’s hair gently with the back of her hand. “Even if he comes back, and the Wizards manage to set him up as King, we both know it won’t mean much.”
“That doesn’t matter.” Ferris pushed her mother’s arm away stubbornly. “Either way, Reiffen’s the true King. Not Brizen.”
Hern returned her daughter’s stern look with one of her own. “You’re a splendid child, Ferris, and all a parent could ever wish for, even if you are sometimes too clever for your own good.”
She sighed, undoubtedly remembering every scrape Ferris had ever gotten into. “But even you’re going to have to understand some day that a true king’s not just a matter of blood. There’ve been strong and good rulers of Wayland and Banking who stole the throne from their betters. And there’ve been poor rulers whose bloodlines were clean as the Hartrush. Reiffen’s gone, king or otherwise. He wasn’t the same boy when you brought him back seven years ago, and he’ll be even less the same if he ever shows up again. It’s time you thought of other things.”
“I know mother.” Ferris took a deep breath and stared at the empty hearth, remembering again how long it had been since Reiffen had last visited her.
“Prince Brizen’s a good enough fellow, especially from what I’ve heard about princes. He loves you quick as a duckling, too. Think about it, dear. You could be queen someday. I happen to think you’d make a fine one.”
“That’s just it, mother. I do think about it. I think about it every day. But then I’d be against Reiffen, and that’s what I can’t do. Not while there’s still hope.”
“Then I’m sorry for you, dear.” Tenderly, Hern put an arm around her daughter’s shoulders. “And I won’t ask you to go against your own heart any more, even if I do think you’re being foolish. You’ll see, though. If Reiffen does come back, there won’t be anything left but the memory we keep right here, in these pillows and stone.” Hern patted the nearest bolster. Dust puffed out around her to fall ghost-like to the floor.
“Hmm. Remind me to take these cushions out for a good airing the next time Anella and I come to clean.”
Hern kissed Ferris lovingly. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. Marriage is a bigger change for a woman than it is for a man. They get to keep on doing what they’ve always done, but our lives are never what they were. Children change more than your body.”
The water rumbled through the gorge. Mother and daughter both looked as if they wished they had something to do with their hands. Reluctantly, Hern let go of her daughter and stood.
“Well, now. I’ve been gone long enough. There’s still a lot of work to do before the prince arrives. He may be an easy guest, but his people are nearly as much trouble as Redburr. Stay here if you want, but tomorrow I’m going to need you to help Myrtle and Renny with the washing. We can’t have what happened last time, when Myrtle lost the prince’s linen in among the tablecloths.”
With no wish to remain sulking in the Tear, Ferris followed her mother back to the Manor. For a few hours the day passed as had so many in her childhood, in cooking and cleaning and talk. Ferris had nothing to worry her but the work of her strong, deft hands.
As expected, the prince arrived later in the day. A more devoted lover might have charged more quickly over the pass, but a more devoted lover would not have had to travel with an esquire, a herald, a valet, and a dozen knights in shining mail, none of whom shared his hurry. For them Valing was a backwoods billet where there was nothing to do but fish. Unless one of the farm girls let you take her out on the lake in the moonlight, where she was as likely as not to laugh at you and tip you both over in the canoe.
The prince, as he greeted his hosts, was less awkward than he once had been. He would never be as tall or good-looking as Avender, but his hesitant manner had transformed into a charming deference. When Hern and Berrel and everyone else in the Manor bowed formally in greeting, Brizen shocked his escort by bowing in reply. It really was too bad, thought Ferris, that Brannis was his father.
“It is so nice to be back,” he declared with a winning smile. “They tease me for it at court, but I do believe Valing is the most beautiful place in the world.”
“You’re too kind, Your Highness,” answered Hern. “Though you only say what we think ourselves. Welcome. This is an unexpected treat.”
Brizen stole a quick glance at Ferris from the corner of his eye. “Thank you, ma’am. You know how hard it is for me to stay away.”
That first evening, and most of the next day, the prince all but ignored Ferris, for which she thanked him silently. Too much attention was too much of a good thing, even for her. Instead he renewed the goodwill he had earned on his last visit by bringing gifts to his old friends. Had he been less gracious about it, Ferris would have called them bribes. The thought did cross her mind when she saw him give Sally and Tinnet’s son a bright silver rattle, and Old Mortin a pouch of fine Lansing tobacco. But, when he brought nothing for her parents, she understood Brizen’s gifts had come from kindness alone, and not from any other motive. And she liked how he knew that her parents would consider presents an insult to their hospitality.
He found her alone the next morning. During her break from the washing she had gone out to the pine woods behind the house, where the rumble of the waterfall was softer and the drop to the river below twice what it was to the lake. Laundering was hot work, and the north side of the Manor, where paths led through the white pines to the edge of the cliff, was cooler than the south. Finding a seat on a ledge of flat rock, she looked out on the Whitewash plunging northward through the mountains toward the distant forest.
Brizen must have been waiting for her to leave the wash room, or he never would have found her among the thick trees. He came hesitantly along the path, fending off the sweeping branches with his arms, his boots crunching the needle carpet. Ferris folded her red hands in her apron as he came up beside her.
“This is a nice view,” he began.
“Not as nice as the lake.” Ferris decided against making room for him to sit on the rock beside her, knowing he would only take it as a wider invitation.
“No,” Brizen agreed. “But it’s wilder. The gateway to the northern forest.”
“It’s not much of a gateway.” Ferris nodded toward the white line of the river rushing among the hills. “You’d never get a boat through those cataracts, not even a canoe.”
“Still, it’s not that far to the Great Forest.” Brizen anchored himself with a hand on a small hemlock and stepped closer to the edge of the cliff. “And it’s the same river that winds through the forest, past the Waste to the Wetting, all the way to Far Mouthing and the Inner Sea. I wonder.” The Prince leaned forward and gazed down at the White Pool frothing at the bottom of the cliff. “If you sent a barrel through the gorge, how long would it take to reach Malmoret?”
“It would never make it through the gorge.”
“I wouldn’t imagine anything could make it through the gorge,” Brizen agreed. “Or the White Pool, for that matter, or any of the next twenty leagues to the forest. Still, if it could, I wonder how long it would take.”
“Years. Maybe we can get Redburr to ask the fish.”
Brizen kicked a pine cone into the green gulf. “Sometimes, in Malmoret, I think about how marvelous it would be if I were a fish myself. If I were, you know, I’d turn my fins upstream and swim to Valing as fast as I possibly could.”
“You’d have as a hard a time getting up this last bit here as the barrel would getting down.”
“I know that.” Brizen glanced briefly at Ferris, then looked off into the trees. “I was just dreaming. I do that a lot these days, you know.”
Not wishing to encourage him, Ferris made no reply. He would come to the point quickly enough on his own. A wood dove darted out from the pines on their right and plunged into the valley. A second followed close behind. Ferris and Brizen watched until the birds grew too small to spot against the trees.
“I am sorry, Ferris, but I did want to see you again. I hope you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind, Brizen. You are my friend. Hern and Berrel love seeing you. You honor us greatly every time you visit.”
“I wish it was more than just your parents who loved seeing me.”
Ferris folded her hands in her lap and stared straight ahead. Brizen, getting no response to his declaration, sighed for both of them.
“I do love you,” he said, stepping back from the edge of the Neck. “I wish there was a way I could prove it. Monsters to slay, or someone to rescue. As it is, it’s hard enough just finding the time to come up here. You’re the lucky one, getting to see the Pearl Islands and the Stoneways. I have too many towns to visit and barons to dine with. Not to mention all the time I have to spend with the army.”
Ferris dug a pebble out from a crack in the stone and nudged it over the cliff with her foot. “You know, you could go to Issinlough, if that’s what you really wanted to do.”
“I will some day. But right now Father says there’s no time to waste in gawking.”
“You come here. Your father doesn’t approve of that at all.”
“I’d rather come here than Issinlough any day. Father knows there are some things about which I won’t answer to him. Besides, the Seven Veils can’t possibly be as beautiful as you.”
“That’s sweet, Brizen, but it doesn’t change anything. I’m not in love with you. If I were, it wouldn’t matter what your father thought. I’m sure you love me very much. Nod only has to sail down from Bracken and climb a hill to see me, but you have to come all the way from Rimwich or Malmoret. It’s very flattering, but it doesn’t change anything.”
“Most girls like flattery. The ones in Malmoret think I’m going to marry them the first time I say something nice.”
“I like flattery too. Just not as much as the girls in Malmoret.”
“You’re not anything like the girls in Malmoret. That’s why I love you.” As he spoke, Brizen looked her full in the face. Ferris couldn’t help but turn away before his show of sweet, earnest ardor.
She brushed off a pine twig that fluttered into her lap. “You were in love with me before we even met, Brizen, though I can’t say I blame you. I think if I’d met someone my age who was a famous hero when I was fifteen, I’d have fallen in love, too. But it’s not very flattering. It’s not me you’re in love with, but the girl you thought I was before we even met. If you’d just pay more attention to the girls who already like you, like Wellin, for instance, you might have more success.”
“Wellin is beautiful, but I’m not in love with her.”
Ferris couldn’t help herself. Even if she didn’t love him, it piqued her pride to hear Brizen praise another woman while he wooed her. “Fie, sir!” she chided, in her best Banking manner. “You talk about how beautiful another woman is, even when you say you love me?”
“You know I didn’t mean it that way.” Brizen stepped purposefully forward. For a moment Ferris thought he might grasp her hand or shoulder.
“I know,” she apologized. “I was just teasing. And Wellin is beautiful. More queenly, too.”
A thin line hardened along the prince’s jaw. When he was most determined was when he looked most like his father. And Reiffen. “Wellin wants to be queen too much,” he said.
“Maybe so, but I like her the more for it. I don’t know why, but of all the fine ladies in Malmoret, she’s the only one I ever felt much in common with.”
Brizen’s mouth fell open in astonishment. “You and Wellin? Why, the two of you couldn’t be more different.”
“I’m not talking about the way we look. Or about whether we could be friends, which I’m sure we couldn’t. But I like the way Wellin speaks her mind and the way she goes after what she wants. She’s the only woman I ever met in Malmoret, at least among the ladies, who would let a pat of butter melt in her mouth. Though there was that Lady Breeanna too, come to think of it, who married the baron twice her age. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I need to get back to the laundry.”
Before she could stop him, the prince took Ferris by the hand and helped her to her feet. She waved him away, but he only let go after they were a couple of steps back from the cliff. He didn’t seem to mind the rough redness of her hand at all.
“Now that you mention it...” He stared thoughtfully at the ground while mulling this new idea. “You two are a bit alike. I can’t believe I never noticed it before. You’re both tenacious. And intelligent. And beautiful. How could I not have realized it?”
“Probably because you’ve known Wellin your entire life.” Ferris set off back through the wood to the Manor, the pine boughs dappled with light and shadow. “You only met me when that sort of thing began to matter.”
“I suppose that’s true.” His eyes still thoughtfully on the ground, Brizen followed. They emerged at a small, green lawn beside the house.
“You know what that means, though,” he continued. “That means Wellin’s about as likely to give up pursuing me as you’re likely to give in.”
Ferris pulled up short in the middle of the path. “Excuse me? Did I just hear you say you finally understand I’m not going to change my mind?”
“Not at all.” Brizen drew himself up to his full height. An attractive confidence glittered in his eye. “I just realized I have to be as tenacious as you are. I don’t suppose Wellin will give up on me until I’m safely married to someone else. Well, you’ll just have to assume the same about me. That is, of course, unless I really start to annoy you. In which case I’ll do whatever you ask. But at least I have one advantage over Wellin.”
“What’s that?” Ferris frowned as she realized that Brizen, far from understanding he had to give her up, was more determined than ever.
“You don’t have anyone you’re pining for,” said the prince. “Wellin knows she doesn’t stand a chance as long as you’re in the picture. But there’s no one you’re in love with the way I’m in love with you. If you were in love with Avender I think I would know, though Wellin tells me he is the handsomest man she has ever met. And I don’t think there’s anyone else around you really like any more than you like me.”
Ferris bit her tongue, remembering what her mother had said about not getting one’s first pick from the tree. Not that she was ready yet to stop reaching. The prince was correct in one sense, however.
“You’re right about that, at least,” she said. “There is no one else around. But I still don’t love you.”
“You didn’t even like me, the first time we met. Now you do. I shall never give up hope until I have to.”
Thanking her stars that men were so incredibly obtuse, especially when they were in love, Ferris shook her head. But there was a lot to think about as she went back to the wash room. Her mother was right. Reiffen would be changed if he ever did return. And how long would she be willing to wait to find that out? No, she really wasn’t ready yet to give up either of her princes.
After lunch, Brizen took his troop off to Bracken to inspect the flax ponds and dine with the mayor. Though there were no kings in Valing, any representative of the higher nobility was very much in demand for formal banquets. Brizen and his guard wouldn’t be back until the following afternoon. Guests gone, Ferris ate a peaceful supper with her parents and Anella in the breakfast room, while Tinnet and Sally enjoyed their own quiet family evening. Hern asked no questions, though Ferris was certain her mother knew everything that had occurred. She certainly would, should she ever have a daughter. Instead they discussed the next day’s events over their soup and bread, their spoons clicking softly in time with the crickets beyond the window. Outside, the summer evening fell late to darkness.
The stewards’ apartment was in what was supposed to be the oldest part of the Manor, and the old oak planking on the floor was certainly dark enough for that to be true. Other stewards had added to the rambling house over the years, and no one was really sure which parts of the Manor had or hadn’t been rebuilt, but Ferris always felt the most at home here, even if her parents had never managed to fill the rooms up with brothers and sisters for her. Her thoughts strayed briefly to the pair of small graves on the Shoulder, not far from the plots of Avender’s and Reiffen’s fathers. A boy and a girl her parents had lost before Ferris was born. No wonder her mother wanted her to settle down.
In her own room the mattress sighed as she sat on her bed to remove her shoes. Hern had already opened the window; the curtains rustled like loose dresses in the breeze. Ferris looked up at the twinkling lights of the Throne and the Bear. Something in the sky made her think back to the Minabbenet in Grangore, where the Dwarves’ small jewels sparkled in the stone roof to echo the world above. She wondered, as she did in almost every quiet moment, about her friends so far away. Avender with Redburr. Reiffen with his mother. She missed them both all the time. At least Brizen wasn’t an oaf, like Nod. He was at least as nice as Avender, and without all the melancholy. There were worse things than being a queen. She wasn’t about to take her heart back so easily, though. Not yet.
Not even for a crown.
The moon had risen when she thought she woke. Silver ribbons striped the floor. She rubbed her eyes and wondered what had disturbed her. Judging from the height of the moon, morning remained hours away. She was about to snuggle back against her pillow when she noticed a shadow shimmering beside her window. It had been a long time since she had last dreamed of Reiffen, at least a year. She had taught herself to believe it was because she was growing up, and no longer needed to pretend her old friend had never left. All the same, she missed his visits, few though they had been. But this was how the dreams always began: a shadow by the curtains that seemed no different than the curtains themselves. Until it stepped forward and said,
“Have you missed me, Ferris?”
Her heart leapt. Even if it was just another dream, she would take what she could get. Throwing off the blankets, she twisted round until she was sitting on the edge of the bed. Shivering, she reached for her robe.
“Where have you been?” she asked, not bothering to answer his question.
The ghostly image shrugged. His moonlight body rippled like a reflection in a pond. Ferris knew her hand would feel nothing if she tried to touch him, but he did seem more substantial this time than he ever had before. Though that might just be her excitement at dreaming of him once again.
“The Wizards have kept me busy.”
“Have you tried to escape?”
“There is no escape. Mother and I have to stay where we are.”
“Why?”
Reiffen didn’t answer. Ferris hadn’t expected him to. He had never told her before, and there was no new reason to tell her now. Since it was only a dream, whatever he might have said wouldn’t have mattered anyway.
“Have you accepted Nod yet?”
Ferris’s eyes narrowed. It was one thing to have Hern bothering her about Nod, but quite another for a phantom Reiffen to be so nosy.
“As if you don’t know the answer to that.”
“What about Brizen?”
“I’m sure you know that answer too. What do you care, anyway? It’s not like you’ve been paying me any attention. Even if you are just a dream.”
Reiffen smiled. “You know I’m not a dream. But I’m glad you haven’t accepted him. I didn’t think you would. Mother thinks you’ll marry Avender.”
“Avender! Please tell your mother I’ll marry whom I want when I want, and not a minute before.”
“As long as you don’t marry Brizen. Neither Mother nor I think he’s good enough for you.”
“His father thinks I’m the one who’s not good enough for him. But if you really want to know, it’s Hern who’s most interested in the idea of my becoming a princess.”
A quiet moment passed. Ferris studied the patterns of silver on the floor, trying to guess which ones were from the waving curtains and which from her ghostly guest. Reiffen crossed his legs and seemed to lean against the window frame.
“Is that all you came for?” she asked. “To find out whom I’m marrying?”
Reiffen shook his head in that decided way he had that Ferris remembered well. He was taller than when she had last seen him, and his shoulders had broadened also. She thought him very handsome, though most would pick Avender as the handsomer. Handsomer, stronger, and nicer too, when you came right down to it. But Reiffen was the one she loved.
“I was just checking to see if we’re still friends. You know, you’re the only friend I have left.”
“That’s not true. We’re all still your friends.”
“I don’t think so. If Redburr saw me now, he’d kill me with one swipe. He wouldn’t even give me a chance to explain. Nolo might let me talk, but I don’t think he’d understand.”
“Avender’s your friend.”
“Maybe. I’d have to test him first.”
“Why test any of us? Just come home. You know you’re welcome here. Redburr will have to answer to me if he lays a paw on you. And he and Nolo aren’t here now.”
“They’d be here soon enough if I showed up.” Reiffen uncrossed his feet and straightened. Once more his silvered form rippled in the air. “But I can’t come home. Not yet. The worst of what I have to do is going to start very soon. Even you may have doubts.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Ferris pushed her hands firmly against the bed and scowled. “I’ll never have doubts.”
Reiffen bowed solemnly. “I thank you for your faith. All the same, the world is about to change. I would have one person remain my friend, regardless of what I do. And even if you cannot understand it, I hope you will understand that I remain myself. And that what I do, I do because I must. Because there is no other way.”
Though Ferris knew she would feel nothing, she reached out for her friend’s hand. His silver fingers curled towards hers, but the air was empty at their touch. Like passing fog, his hand wrapped hers in moonlight.
“I will always be your friend,” she whispered, wishing he had asked for more.
He closed his shadowed eyes. Not for the first time, she thought he was about to say something more. Instead he nodded slightly, his nose flaring with a deep breath. He shimmered, as if his reflection had been shaken, and vanished. Ferris found herself sitting at the edge of the bed, her hand brushing the curtains in a draft of wind.
She returned to her pillow, wrapping herself in quilts and covers. It had felt so real, just as it always did, but it had to be a dream. What else could it be? Reiffen was hundreds of miles away, in that horrible fortress. Ferris shuddered as she recalled the long, dark tunnels, where terror had plucked at her with a creeping, wretched touch. That’s where Reiffen was. It was only her imagination that called him to her dreaming. She missed him terribly. Everything would be different if Reiffen were still in Valing. She wouldn’t have to bother about Nod or Prince Brizen, for one thing. And Hern would have approved completely.
A gust of wind blew the curtains into her room like arms, the ends twisted into long white fingers. Lightly they trailed back against the wall as the breeze failed. Her chin tucked deep into her softest blanket, Ferris didn’t fall back to sleep for a long, long time. And when she did, it wasn’t Brizen she dreamed of.