"You don't have to take everything out to reach the garments on the bottom."

"The tube opens halfway down," he reminded her. "You only have to take half the clothes out to reach the bottom."

"But then the ones on top fall down." She indicated the temple. "The people of the Ruby Empire used tubes like this to suspend things. The design of the cylinder in your room probably derives from that same principle. But it lacks the technology to float garments or move them up and down, just as this can no longer move people up and down."

Eldri hesitated. "You speak as if you know the builders of this castle."

"They were my ancestors."

He touched a tendril of hair curling around her face. "So it is true. You descend from the makers of this place."

"Well, yes." For some reason, she felt as if she had given him the wrong answer, though it was true.

His face paled. "I thought so."

"You did?"

"From now on," he vowed, "I will observe the rituals. You have my oath."

"Rituals?"

"For the G.o.ddesses and G.o.ds of the sun, wind, and reeds." He paused with his hand near her cheek, as if he wished to touch her but was unsure she would allow it. "Are you a sister or daughter?"

"Of who?"

"Valdor and Aldan, the sun G.o.ds."

"Ah, no. Eldri, no." She put her hand on his arm, letting him feel her solidity. "I'm a person, just like you.

Nothing more. People built this castle. Not deities."

"Even so." He held up his fingers. "Every ten days, I will make a flame in a reed as thanks."

She peered at his hands. "That is eight. Not ten."

"Eight?" He glared, apparently already forgetting his intent to be deferential. "Whatever could 'eight'

mean?" He sounded far more irate than puzzled, and she suspected he knew perfectly well what it meant.

"Your fingers." She counted them. "Eight."

Glowering, Eldri made two fists and uncurled each finger as he counted it. "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, ten."

"Of course!" Roca beamed at him. "You count in base eight. It makes perfect sense. Eight fingers, base eight."

"You sound like Brad," he grumbled. "And you make no more sense than him. Ten is ten. Not twelve."

He took her hands and indicated her ten fingers, including her thumbs. "Twelve."

"We call that ten."

"Itisn'tten." Eldri crossed his arms. "You are as bad as those resort planners. They never listen, either."

Her smile faded. "When I return home, I will see what can be done about them." The a.s.sembly had to dispute Earth's claim here, lest it set a precedent of giving Skolian territory to the Allieds.

"Stay, Roca." He lowered his arms. "Don't leave."

She swallowed. "Please don't ask me that."

He didn't answer, only took her hand and walked with her out of the Reed. The day's light seemed to dim around them.

On their fifth day, Eldri took Roca up to the battlements atop the highest tower. Bundled in heavy jackets and trousers, they stood in the wind under a vivid lavender sky with no trace of clouds. Valdor, the large sun, was a huge golden coin hiding Aldan, his smaller brother. The mountains spread around them, spectacular in their jagged, dangerous beauty.

Far below, young people were clearing snow off the bridge that arched to the castle. Beyond it was the plain of windswept stone that visitors to Windward had to cross to reach the castle. Cliffs bordered both sides of the plain, rising higher as they came closer to Windward, until on its east and west sides, they towered straight up from the chasm, making it impossible to reach the back of the castle from this side.

Across the plain, Roca could see the end of the path that led up here from Dalvador. Two great statues bracketed it, each carved in the shape of a winged beast with curved horns. From a strategic point of view, she could see why Eldri's ancestors had put a fortress here; it was almost inaccessible. But she didn't understandwhat.i.t protected. Windward had no city, no farms, no population of any kind except its staff.

"Eldri, look." She pointed toward the path. "Do you see?"

Squinting against the sun, he shaded his eyes. "Riders!" He grinned at her. "We have visitors."

"That means we can leave here, yes?"

"I think so." Jubilant, he heaved open the gla.s.swood door to the tower. They ran down the steps inside.

At the ground floor, many of Eldri's men joined them. They all jogged across the courtyard, through the melting snow, and out under the portcullis. Garlin was already on the bridge, surrounded by soldiers from the castle, all in disk mail and leather armor dyed a dark purple. As Eldri came up to Garlin, the older man handed him a belt with a finely tooled scabbard. The sword it held had a crystalline pommel made from the same prismatic material as lyrine hooves.

"Saints above." Roca gaped as Eldri took the weapon. "You aren't really going to use that thing, are you?"

He glanced at her as a man helped him into his armor. "You must go inside the castle."

"You can't think we're in danger from those few people." She knew nothing about combat here, but surely some principles were universal. They wouldn't all be standing out here if Eldri genuinely believed they were about to be attacked.

"We do not know who they are." He paused as his man finished outfitting him. "Probably friends, but they could be enemies. We will see." He strapped the sword belt around his hips.

It astonished Roca that he wore the weapon so easily. It had to weigh a great deal, with its great length and wide blade. "Eldri, that thing is dangerous."

Garlin spoke dryly. "That is the idea, Lady Roca."

Looking around, she realized all the soldiers on the bridge were similarly armed, many with daggers as well, and a few with weapons that resembled curved axes. She frowned at Garlin. "And if those people coming here are friends?"

He shrugged. "Then we will invite them inside."

Eldri drew her aside and indicated the castle. "Look."

Gazing up, she saw archers lined up along the battlements atop the castle wall, partially hidden behind merlons, between the crenellations. She arched an eyebrow at Eldri. "Are you always this friendly to visitors?"

He adjusted the belt around his hips. "Rumors say Lord Avaril plans to attack."

She hesitated. "Isn't it dangerous for you to fight?"

"I cannot live my life hiding."

"You could die."

His lips quirked upward. "I promise not to."

"Eldri! It's not a joke."

"I know." After a moment he added, "I had a seizure during a battle once."

She couldn't believe he said it so calmly. "How did you survive?"

"My opponent ran away. He thought I was possessed."

Roca heard the pain under his attempt to sound amused. Before she could respond, Garlin came over.

"Lady Roca, you must return to the fortress now."

She wanted to stay, but she knew they would insist, just like her bodyguards. Annoyed, she stepped back toward the castle, still gazing out over the windswept plain. Across the open area, about a kilometer from where she stood, a group of riders were exiting the mountain path, riding between the towering statues.

"I only see ten lyrine," Roca said as the group came out onto the plain. "They don't look dangerous."

Certainly not compared to all Eldri's men bristling with their weapons.

Eldri squinted at them. "I can't tell if those are my men."

Magnify,Roca thought. Her node accessed her optic nerves, and the riders seemed to jump in size.

"Well, I'll take a launch off a lily pad!" She took off running across the bridge, unmindful of the slush that splashed on her boots and trousers. Her response startled Eldri's men enough that by the time anyone grabbed for her, she had already pa.s.sed.

It took her only minutes to cross the kilometer-wide plain. The riders were dressed like Eldri's men, but without armor, and they carried no weapons. A man reined in his lyrine and jumped down while the other animals milled around him. As Roca dodged among the lyrine, the fellow wove his way to her.

"Brad!" She was so glad to see the port administrator, she threw her arms around his neck as soon as she reached him. He hugged her back, laughing, with no attempt to restrain his relief.

Suddenly a hand grasped Roca's arm and yanked her away from Brad. Startled, she swung around to find Eldri gripping her so hard, the veins in his hand stood out. He stared at Brad with no hint of a smile.

Roca sighed. Apparently male territoriality was the same in all cultures.

Eldri's men had no such reservations about their visitors. Still in full armor, but with their weapons sheathed, they gathered around the newcomers, boisterous and laughing as the riders jumped down from their lyrine. Everyone mixed together, calling out names and slapping each other on the back.

Eldri spoke to Brad with chill formality. "You have ridden a long way."

"I'm sorry I didn't come sooner." Brad gave Roca a look of apology. "I tried to fix the flyer, but I don't have the parts. And I couldn't raise you on my comm equipment."

Roca winced. "I didn't have any with me." Before he could ask why not, she said, "Can you get parts for the flyer?"

"I sent an order with the supply ship." He started to say more, then stopped, the vertical lines between his eyes deepening.

"What is it?" Roca asked.

"It will be a year before another ship comes."

"A year?" Her stomach seemed to drop. "No ship puts in here for anotheryear?"

"I'm sorry." Brad blew out a gust of air. "The pilot of this one waited several hours, but he couldn't delay any longer."

"G.o.ds almighty." This was even worse than she had feared. "Pray they can find me."

"Who?" Brad asked.

Garlin was glancing around at the milling people. "Perhaps we should continue this inside."

Brad smiled at him. "h.e.l.lo, Garlin. You look as annoyed as always."

Unexpectedly, at least to Roca, Garlin laughed. "And you," he told Brad, "will soon lose more chess games."

Brad chuckled as they all headed for Windward. His breath made blue puffs in the air. "We had quite a ride here. It took most of the day to bridge that collapsed section of the path."

Roca couldn't hold back her shudder. "We jumped it."

"Good Lord, why?" Brad asked.

Garlin answered. "It was too late in the day to go back." He walked at Brad's side with ease, seeming far more pleased than Eldri to see the Allied man.

Roca felt Eldri's confusion. His natural inclination to like Brad was marred by the image, vivid in his mind, of Roca hugging him. Roca wanted to a.s.sure Eldri he had no reason to worry, but she knew an open acknowledgment of his discomfort would hurt his pride.

Eldri spoke quietly. "We lost Jacquilar at the break."

Brad's smile vanished. "Eldrinson, I'm terribly sorry."

After a respectful silence Garlin said, "Brad, can you stay long?"

"Not too long. I can keep in touch with the port from here, but I should get back. I don't like to leave it automated." He glanced at Roca. "I had to make sure you were all right. Your message said you would only be gone a day. When you didn't return-and given the way you left-" He cleared his throat, avoiding Eldri's gaze. "I thought I had better check."

Roca could tell Eldri was upset. "I am fine," she a.s.sured Brad. "Everyone has been an excellent host."

That wasn't completely true for Garlin, but it would do. "The snow kept us here."

Brad gave her an odd look. "Your English has certainly improved."

"I have a node optimized for languages."

His eyes widened. "Those things are expensive."

Roca didn't think this was the time to explain. They were crossing the bridge now, so she motioned at the melting snow all around them. "I take it the storm was unexpected."