661'm in exalted company," said Diver.

"Indeed we are," said Brin, "and I will suggest a bargain.

When the Great Circle has been flown and Tomarvan has returned safely to the field, together with Dahkan, whoever leads the other home may question freely and hear the truth. "

"Agreed, Brin Brinroyan," said Blacklock.

"Agreed again!" said another voice. It was Jebbal making( 129 ).

her rounds, accompanied by the young Mattroyan. "Well Murno ... what there, Friend Brin, young Hazel. I like that Tomarvan, whatever d.a.m.ned fire-metal-magic makes it fly. I never believed in your wind-blades much, Fer Utovangan, until I saw Garl Brinroyan fly in circles. This shy person is Ullo Mattroyan, who heaves Tildee through the air . . ."

The merchant's child was shy, without a trace of arro- gance; she was very strong, half omor already from her exertions with the Tildee, but awkward in company. She bowed and jebbal led her on, brisk as ever, smoothing the way with her talk.

The Launcher pounced on us suddenly; he stumped into the midst of these pleasantries and began a ferocious harangue. "Safety!" he boomed, "and no wing cutting. We fly for sport and the honor of the Bird Clan. Winds forbid our dear flying machines should be used as weapons! Clean flying, skill and care and no fancywork."

He gave more of this pattern, but I heard little of it. I was becoming afraid for Diver, in spite of all this good humor in the center of the field. My legs would scarcely carry me to the new row of launching blocks, where the Tomarvan was already mounted. I stood stiffly erect and smiled at Diver and at Brin, but inside.was a scared, bewildered creature, a mountain child indeed, ready to burrow into the sleeping bag when a wolf howled. The five machines launched at the third hour, each one steady, and flew off due east, to the First Mark, where the first red streaks of Es...o...b..rned above Gwervanin.

I sat down beside our launching blocks, shuddering, and Brin sat down beside me. Ablo came up with a bag of fresh honey cakes and flung them into my lap with that cross manner that masked his concern.

"Eat up, Dorn Brinroyan. Show these va.s.sal youngsters we have stomach for the Great Circle!" I nibbled feebly, then with more interest because the cakes were very good.( 130 ).

d h s( 131 ).The machines were out of sight. The va.s.sals were clearing the field, even tearing down tents and stalls that stood near the edge. A thick yellow net was being unravelled at the field's lower boundary, beside the river gate and the closed bridge that led to the citadel of Otolor, then leaped in another span to the fairgrounds across the river.

"It will be over in less than two hours. Then the gates will be opened and the crowds will come to the nets to cheer the winner," said Ablo.

Brin sprang up and helped me to my feet. "Go to the river gate, Dorn, and ask for a message from the Harper,"

she said.

"Will they come to the nets?" I longed to see them again: Mamor, the Harper, Narneen, Old Gwin and Tomar. I pictured them cheering the winner ... our own Luck!

"Maybe they'll come," said Brin, "but it is a crush. Better if they waited in their camp on the fairground."

I turned to run off but Brin called me back. She held out Diver's viewing tube, his sailor's gla.s.s. "Perhaps you can find a vantage point." I took it gratefully and ran to the river gate.

Already there was a crowd of spectators packing the gate, waiting for the finish and a good place at the nets. It was strange to be on the inside looking out of the Bird Clan; I fingered the blue silk braid of my emblem and scanned the faces out there, expecting every moment to be hailed by one of the Family. Then I approached the gatekeeper, and he went haughtily to his booth and returned with a message skein. I gave him a silver credit and stood, reading the skein in my fingers, feeling the Harper's words as I turned for one last look at the crowd. I saw a face I knew and my heart thumped, but I gave no sign and ran off again into the field.

I stood in the shelter of the tower and raised the gla.s.s; the tall, brown figure had edged back ... I saw a narrow face, a flash of blue rags and feathers. Petsalee, Host of Spirits, and dressed as a twirler! Could he harm -us here, in the Bird Clan itself? I folded the gla.s.s and carried the Harper's skein to Brin; she read off the location of the camp, on a good site by the cloth market, and the Harper's good wishes. I said nothing about what I had seen and sent my wishes and prayers after Diver in the Tomarvan, rounding the First Mark. I strolled off again and when I was out of sight of Brin and Ablo, I put Diver's gla.s.s in the pouch pocket of my tunic and climbed to the top of the great launching tower.

About twenty va.s.sals and escorts had had the same idea, the nimbler ones, children like myself. We clung to the supports and felt the winds tug at the tower. I hunched down, straddling a st.u.r.dy crosspiece, and found the tower no more frightening than a tall tree on Hingstull. I extended the magic gla.s.s and searched for a long time until I found them: five dots, no bigger than birds, flying bunched together halfway to the Second Mark. The rays of Esto, rising for the New Year, flashed silver or blue or green off one flying machine then another as they dipped and soared. I adjusted the gla.s.s and began to distinguish the challengers. Hadeel overhead, then Tildee thrusting towards the Second Mark, and surely that was Dahkan, Blacklock's big machine, close behind. Tomarvan flew beyond the Dahkan and trailing a,little, high in a spiral behind the field, Peer-lo-vagoba soared in the blue.

The sunlight caught the mirrors at the Second Mark, which was another wooden tower, tall as the one I was perched on. I moved the gla.s.s on to survey the Great Circle: there were four marker balloons, one drooping from a leak, then far off by the fixed houses of Otolor, the Third Mark. There was one of the Bird Clan gliders flying in uneasy ovals on the farthest edge of the fairground, and there were the streamers drifting out from the Fourth Mark. I flicked on quickly over the markets and stalls and dancing platforms to the gaudy Fifth Mark, still on the far bank of the Troon, a good distance downstream from &( 132 ).

river gate. When I looked back, the five machines had crossed the river and were flying low over the fixed houses, low enough to wake sleepers, if any slept in Otolor at the New Year.

Suddenly one caught a wild current-was it Haded, still holding a narrow lead?-and the group spread outward and upward like birds alarmed by a fowler's slingshot. Tomar- van! I saw Diver catch the current and improve his place, but below came Tildee, heavy and dark, chugging even further ahead. Then I could see no more; the angle of the light made me weep and blink and lower the gla.s.s. I wiped my eyes and kept taking a look, but the machines were too far away, slow-moving dots, crawling through the sky to the Third Mark. So I sat on the tower for a long time, watching those five dots, hardly able to think of them as flying machines, the objects of so much hope, thrust through the air by living persons. Every so often I would identify one or other of the contestants: Jebbal wheeling to take the lead, Dahkan hovering in close with Tomarvan; but then the pattern would change. All the machines became silvery drops or wisps of cloud, or I would find I had tracked a pa.s.sing bird by mistake.

I sat rocking and blinking on the tower, below the other chattering youngsters who pointed and whooped and thought they saw this leader and that. Sometimes I rested my eyes and almost slept, then woke in panic and found the machines no nearer ... but was that Dahkan following the Tomarvan? And suddenly I was wide awake, frantically adjusting the gla.s.s, for they were rounding the Fourth Mark and the view was clear. Dahkan! Dahkan well ahead, and Tomarvan above, then Tildee closing to the right; far above, the two gliders, Hadeel and Peer-lo-vagoba, battled for each other's wind. I could see the other Bird Clan glider and the marshals in it. The three leading machines contin- ued their desperate fight: Tildee challenged and Dahkan banked and Tomarvan tried to cut between but failed, ran( 133 ).

out of sky, and had to fly wide and low, back into third place. Tildee sliced in to take the lead, and I could feel the breath of the wind-blade as Blacklock brought the Dahkan close enough to slice a wing. Now Diver . . . take the lead now! And the Tomarvan did take the lead, but Tildee, the stinking Tildee, undercut, hacking at Diver's wing-where were the flaming marshals?-and Dahkan flew round- about, doggedly, and came up ahead of the two others.

Then Peer-lo-vagoba lit down from high above, catching the wind perfectly, to take the lead, and there was Hadeel following.

"Come down!" The tower was rocking crazily, and the Launcher stood at its base calling in his thunder voice, "Down you wretched fledglings! Down, before we disman- tle the tower with you clinging to its branches!"

Two clan va.s.sals and a marshal were already on the platform shoving the youngsters to the ladders and at- taching ropes to the tower. I scrambled for my life, with the rest, and we had scarcely hit the ground when the tower was skilfully twitched in half by the ropes. In a moment our perch was nothing but a heap of sticks and binding, dragged off the field in a transport net. I saw that the gates had been opened and a jostling crowd were pressed against the yellow ropes of the barrier. I ran back to the blocks, or the place where they had been, and found Brin and Ablo waiting among the silent, ranked escorts of all the challeng- ers. I could hardly believe that they had seen nothing.

"Soon . . ." I panted, "approaching the Fifth Mark!"

"None down?" panted Ablo, "good, good, winds' favor indeed! Where is the Tomarvan?" , "Battling with Dahkan and Tildee, last I saw."

The voice of a marshal, with a speaking gourd, reported calmly from the pavilion. "Now at the Fifth Mark. All challengers approaching . . ."

There was a buzz of relief from the escorts.

"Dahkan, Tildee, Tomarvan ... followed high by( 134 ).

e,erurvorbyPeer-lo-vagoba and Hadeel. "

"But how can they tell? How can they see so far? They must have a seeing gla.s.s!"

"They have something better, child, and could have told us the entire contest if they dared. There is a voice-wire stretched round the whole of the Great Circle, with answering places at every mark," whispered Ablo.

"Fire-metal-magic," said Brin. "And how do you know so much, Dorn Brinroyan?"

I looked at the brown turf. I was on the tower with Diver's gla.s.s."

Ablo grumbled at that, about mischief and taking risks, so I handed him the seeing gla.s.s. He puzzled over it a little, and I helped him. Then, as he exclaimed in wonder at the powers of the gla.s.s, the cry went up.

They flew in at some height on the long southern curve of the field, Dahkan, Tomarvan, Tildee, in line, then with Tomarvan shifting up and back a little. The gliders were nowhere to be seen. Blacklock's escort raised a clamor, and the Mattroyan omor began to chant, waving their green branches. I shouted, but then fell silent, like the anxious escorts of Hadeel and Peer-lo-vagoba, but for a different reason. I knew what would happen. There was a landing target set down, a circular mat of white woven straw in the center of the field; the trick was to turn and land, facing the river. I knew, I knew that Blacklock must peel off his heavy machine to the east leaving a strip of sky; and surely, as we watched, the Tomarvan turned half upside down, stood on its wingtip in midair. I saw Brin raise both hands and shout, summoning the winds, as Diver came through. The Tomarvan slotted between Dahkan and Tildee, like the shuttle on a loom, then turned as the crowd began to roar, cut under Dahkan's runners with a hand's breadth to spare, turned again, and came down gently as a leaf, on the white mat in center field. Ablo seized my hand-he was weeping-and we ran, with Brin, to hold the wings. And( 135 ).

that was how the Bird Clan was won.

I have thought of this moment and dreamed of it all my life since that time. I remember how the Dahkan lit down beside us, how Blacklock ran to embrace Diver and call him friend and sibling. How the Tildee came in, red-hot in patches, and the pale young Mattroyan was lifted out by Diver and Blacklock to share the moment. Then the platform was wheeled up, the same one that had brought Tomarvan into the enclosure, but decorated this time with flowers of spring and blue green banners and tall silk lilies, the sign of victory. The Tomarvan was lifted aboard, and Diver, our Luck, unable to keep the smile off his face, stood beside his machine while silkbeam copies were made by the marshals. Then we climbed up beside him to share his triumph ride, and Blacklock himself stood to the flower- twined ropes with the cheering, laughing band of marshals and va.s.sals. We were drawn towards the barrier and the cry went up, again and again, "Garl Brinroyan", "Tomarvan", "Brin's Five and Cullin". Here my dream should end; here I should remember no further. I have awakened in the darkness or in Esder light, on land and on the ocean sea, crying out for the dream to stop, stop and show me no more.

We had reached the barrier when the cheering began to fade; I saw Blacklock check and look at the sky. The cheering dried up, ebbed away completely. Diver made an exclamation in his own tongue. Hadeel and Peer-lo-vagoba had appeared together high above the field, moving, both of them, with a strange shuddering motion. Then I saw that they were locked together. The slender wingtip of jebbal had pierced the black glider behind the pilot's chair and would not come free. They swung down together caught in one current that lived over the field, then were carried up in another; at the greatest height Hadeel wrenched free and came soaring down safely, far to the east, almost on th ' e First Mark. Peer-lo-vagoba looped over, still graceful, and( 136 ).

began to turn, to turn faster, to spin like an autumn leaf, spinning down, down, faster and faster towards the hard ground. I screamed but no sound came; there was a heavy silence over the whole of the field. The glider was a spinning blur of blue, a twirler; I could not take my eyes from it, but at the last Brin turned my head away and buried my face in her cloak. All I felt was a jarring thump, no more than the closing of a wooden door in a fixed house.

The silence was shattered after a few pulse beats; it was a scene of dreadful confusion. I saw Diver leap down and run, followed by Blacklock; the Launcher was roaring somewhere; the crowd broke the barrier and swarmed onto the field. Brin and Ablo had to stand to the Tomarvan on its triumphal platform to protect it. I saw a tall ancient rush past, tearing the clothes from his back and scratching his face in token of mourning: it was Jebbal's chief officer. I had only one thought. I leaped from the platform and ran and fought and burrowed through the weeping, jostling crowd u'I I came to Jebbal's fine silken tent, where the children nti were waiting. There was a clear s.p.a.ce all around it; the escort were not there, except for two body servants, one an ancient sitting on the ground, tearing the flax flowers of Luntroy from its cloak, the other a young officer rifling through a kitbag. The ancient shrieked at me as I went to the tent flap that the place was accursed. Would I draw down the winds' bane?

I carry the winds' favor!" I shouted.

I stepped into the darkness of the tent and waited, searching the darkness until my eyes became accustomed to it. They sat there on the cushions, pale as ever: Valdin and Thanar. They were richly dressed in honor of the day; the bead game lay between them. I saw myself in their silvered mirror, wild-eyed, dirty, full of the fear and excitement that made up the Bird Clan. I felt sure they had not watched the race, that no one had told them how it ended, and at the same time I was sure they understood what had( 137 ).

happened. For four years, until this time, they had waited in the dark tent; and they knew the worst, although no one had brought them word. I stumbled forward and sat by them; Valdin moved a bead on the board, and Thanar clapped her hands silently and took four of his beads.

Valdin sighed and handed me a beaker of honey water. "She is a baby," he said, "she likes to win." I sipped and choked.

"Has anyone ... ?" I gasped.

"Not yet," whispered Thanar, "you are the first, Dorn.

You are our officer." She replaced the beads carefully, every one in its correct socket, then began to move about the tent, collecting their belongings.

"You must make a report," said Valdin. I stared at him, dry-mouthed.

"Is the Bird Clan won?" he prompted.

"Yes, by Garl Brinroyan."

"And Jebbal? ' ' * 97 "The winds have taken her." I hated this empty formula but I was glad of it; I could not tell them any more.

Thanar brought Valdin his cloak and he put it on, as she had done with her own; scarlet lining turned out, in token of mourning. I talked with them about sailing. We sat there for what seemed a long time, and the eddies of sound from the field became fainter, as order was restored.

"What will you do?" I asked.

"Go to Salthaven," said Thanar. "Some clan folk will see to it."

There was a faint hail from outside the tent, and I went to the doorway. I saw that the escort had all returned, shame-faced and weeping; they sat in a circle, giving the tent a wide berth. In the midst of them stood the hawk- faced old scribe with the Wentroy pectoral, first officer for the pilot of Utofarl.

"Who is that? Who has braved the winds' bane in that tent?" he demanded.

"Dorn Brinroyan!"( 138 ).

vaited io one ;at by ,hanar )eads.

, "She oked.~orn.

fully, about, him,Imulais she token there f romseeHe took a few steps towards the tent and said "Aren't you afraid, child?""No, I am not," I said truthfully, "for I carry the winds'

favor. We have a great Luck, victor of this Bird Clan, and besides, I have a special duty to their Highnesses Valdin andThanar.'"Well, you have taken the edge off this accursed place."

He stepped into the tent and bowed sorrowfully to the children, who stood together, holding their velvet satchels.

"Highnesses, my liege of Wentroy has your barge ready."

I cannot remember what we said in farewell, but theancient took them away, quickly, by the back flap of the tent and bade me stay longer. I looked out and saw the two scarlet cloaks heading a slow and melancholy procession towards the river. jebbal's escort trooped silently among the tents and stalls to the Bird Clan stockade and crept out through a broken place onto the bank of the Troon, wherethe barge was waiting.I drew back into the empty tent and sat on the ground.

was alone and in an accursed place, but I did not want to be with anyone at that moment. Even the winds' favor weighed heavily upon me; I could not think of our good fortune. I could not wish myself back on Hingstull; for the Dorn who had run about on the mountain was gone forever. I would meet that child, become that child again,only in dreams.I.

went 'ned, ~ the awk- the ground."

r for"So you have seen the Bird Clan," said a dry whisper inside my head.

I have seen it.""Then you know that the winds can dash every hope tothatA beam of sunlight, the rich light of the two suns, blazing outside for the New Year, struck the silver mirror left on the tent wall. My eyes were dazzled; a figure dark and bright grew in shadow at my side. I caught a movementof the green-hemmed robe "Do you hate the Bird Clan then?" I asked aloud.

"It is a testing ground, no more," said the Engines.

"Our Luck flew well . I said defensively.

"Too well!" the voice was harsh. "Now he is known, marked down for the strange creature that he is. He must come to me at once or my protection will have no power."

"Someone is coming!" I said.

"Those I have summoned."

There was a m.u.f.fled shout of "Winds' favor!" outside the tent, and Blacklock strode in followed by Diver.

Blacklock checked in his stride at once for he saw who was there, a familiar presence to him. His handsome face wore a rueful expression. "At your call," he said.

"Another victory for the Bird Clan!" said the Maker of Engines sadly.

Diver came on into the tent completely unaware of any other presence. "Are the children taken care of?" he asked.

"Yes," I said, "but Diver . . . hear me . . ."

"Dorn, poor fellow . . . my dear sib . . . come up off the ground!"

"Diver . . . someone else is here," I said.

"What?"

"Garl Brinroyan,?' said Blacklock. "Meet this other whom I call 'teacher', 'guide',.even 'my liege'."

Diver looked carefully round the tent and said in wonder "Some other person ... here in this tent?"

Blacklock waved his hands in exasperation. "There! I'

never seen a better demonstration of thought-blindness! By the fire, I believe what Antho, our wise old bird, says o you, Garl Brinroyan. You are not of this world!"

The Maker of Engines said in that dry inward voice "Thought-blind indeed! Yet, I wonder. Dorn, ask you Luck to stand still and take off those flying goggles."

I was about to pa.s.s on this message when to my surpris Diver did as he had been asked.( 140 ).

oftdeho aceofny d.theer,er;did you do that?" asked Blacklock slyly.

"No reason," said Diver, "or perhaps . . . I felt .

The Maker of Engines uttered a sighing laugh; that radiance I had felt on the rock grew very strong. I saw the Great Diviner in and out of my head, everywhere around me, as if reflected in a hundred mirrors, so clearly that my head ached. Tall, narrow-faced, with a great fall of dark brown hair held across the high brow by a band of green brilliants. The eyes were black and piercing; I shut my own eyes and seemed to fall into a deep pool of black light where there was only this dazzling figure.

"Enough, Nantgeeb! You will have us entranced!" cried Blacklock. I dragged my eyelids open and saw Blacklock reeling back, an arm before his face. Diver suddenly cried out in his own language.

He took a step forward, his face very pale, his blue eyes staring, for he was very much afraid. "There is something . . ." he whispered. He mastered his fear and stepped forward again into that light, which we could scarcely bear, peering warily like a hunter entering a cave.

"Commend me to the Maker of Engines, Dorn," he said.

"Commend me to your Luck, Dorn Brinroyan," said Nantgeeb.