"Look at him."

The whisper carried clearly from the scrubby bushes a little way down the hill, and the bright clear afternoon lost its lustre. He'd hoped to get away with it this time, what with the harvest, but clearly some of the villagers thought it was worth shirking their duties to come and gawp. He held still, trying to be as boring as possible.

"... white hair...."

"Like I said. They all have it. It's the mark."

An acorn pattered on the dirt by his feet, and another bounced off his back. Small missiles, thrown to annoy, not to harm. He lowered his head, let his telltale hair fall over his face, trying to ignore the distractions.

"He's playing with leaves."

Saryth clenched his fist as the illusion fell apart and the piles of cards in front of him turned back into fallen leaves again. It didn't matter. Nothing did, not until they went away. There was no way he could respond safely, so he endured the unwanted attention in motionless silence until at last he heard the girls scurry back down the hill towards the village, their chatter and laughter trailing behind them. He abandoned the leaves and lay back, staring up into the vast blue sky, letting its immensity soak through until the annoying village girls had faded from his mind.

"Hello." A face intruded into his view, wearing a friendly smile. Saryth blinked and sat up, alarmed at the sudden proximity of another person. But it was a stranger, not one of the village or castle folk. She looked distinctly foreign, dressed in a long, deep red tunic with red trousers underneath, trimmed in decorated yellow, with a black cloak over the whole. She carried a staff, and a set of small bags hung on a wide strap over her shoulder. Her tanned face was framed by blonde hair twisted up through some complicated arrangement into two buns. Brown eyes met his own without a hint of fear or suspicion.

"I'm looking for the sun," she said.

"Your son?"

"How old do you think I am?" Saryth winced, but she didn't sound offended.

"Then do you mean the sun up there?" He pointed at the sky. The stranger laughed and sat down, seemingly at ease in his presence. He tried to edge away surreptitiously.

"I'm Kite," she said, "and I'm looking for the sun, but not the one up there. A different one."

"Why?" He was curious despite himself.

"Because it's lost."

"How can you lose the sun?"

"I don't know. But it's not there any more, so something must have happened to it. Is there anyone rich around here? Whose castle is that?" She half turned and pointed down the hill to where the squat turrets of Corwaith Keep were visible above the trees.

"The Duke's. He's the only rich person around. Why?"

"Because it might end up with such a person."

"Why?"

"Who else can afford their own sun?" Like her earlier statements, it did make a ridiculous sort of sense. "Do you know the Duke?"

Saryth was silent. The conversation had been a mistake.

"Do you?"

"Yes." He looked away from her, avoiding her gaze. "I'm his slave."

"There's slavery here?" Her tone was shocked. He gritted his teeth.

"Only for sorcerers. We don't have souls. So it's all right." He forced the words out, but they met infuriating incomprehension. "See?" He yanked his ponytail round and shook it at her. She recoiled from the grubby white tangles. He turned his back on her and hugged his knees, not wanting to see her reaction, afraid it would be the familiar disgusted scorn. "Leave me alone." To his relief, he heard her stand up.

"Thank you for your help," she said.

"Where are you going?" He hadn't meant to say anything.

"To the Duke's castle. Goodbye."

He watched her walk away down the hill.

The castle was big and grey and dull, guarded by two soldiers who stared down at the visitor dwarfed by the height of the walls. Kite did her best to look unthreatening, which wasn't hard; the castle was hugely oversized for the handful of villages it was supposedly protecting. Delusions of grandeur

"Hello!" she called up.

"Who's there?"

"I am Kite, and I come on Quest." She hoped the terminology was still accurate. The database information was clearly sadly out of date. She hadn't even known of the marking of magic users in this world, never mind their persecution.

"Do you indeed. What do you seek?" She breathed in relief; the custom was still valid. The soldier on the left turned to the one on the right and muttered something, and he disappeared from the wall.

"I am looking for the sun!" Kite called up, familiar by now with the common assumption that she was dotty. But he had accepted her word that she was on Quest, so...

"Very well, then." The guard turned slightly. "Open the gates!" he called down, and a small door set into the massive main door swung open with a distinct lack of fanfare.

The open door revealed a wide courtyard set with big slabs of the same grey stone that made up the walls, unrelieved by any decoration. Kite stepped through the little door to be greeted by a short, slim man dressed richly but somehow still managing to look a little grubby. He smiled professionally at her.

"Welcome, my lady," he said. "I am the steward to the Duke. You are on Quest? Would you honour me with your name?" That's a lot of formality.

"I am Kite." The steward looked momentarily confused at the absence of a surname, then covered his expression with the same smile as before.

"Very well. Permit me to show you to your chamber, my lady... Kite." He gestured forwards, indicating a door at the base of the castle proper.

"May I not speak with the Duke?" Kite didn't want to spend any longer in the castle than absolutely necessary. It was making her itch.

"I'm afraid not, my lady. He is busy today. Perhaps tomorrow you may be able to speak to him in private. There will be a banquet tonight, however, and your presence would be most welcome."

Kite sighed.

"Then I shall be glad to avail myself of your generous hospitality," she said, and allowed the steward to usher her into the castle.

The steward led her to a small chamber partway up one of the towers. The bare stone floor was barely visible under the wooden chair and single bed that filled the room. Light filtered in from a small window high in the wall, and an unlit lamp stood on a shelf by the head of the bed. Kite looked around uncertainly. Most inns she'd stayed at had better accommodation than this.

"I will have a maid sent to you," the steward said as he left.

Generous hospitality, my... Kite sighed, and turned at the sound of footsteps that announced the promised maid, a young girl with curly brown hair and a sharp, clever face.

"What is your name?"

"Anna, my lady. Can I get you anything? Some food, perhaps?"

"Not now, thank you. I can wait until the evening. If there is a bath, though..?" Given the evidence so far, she almost expected to be told there were no baths in the entire castle, but Anna nodded.

"Of course, my lady." She walked out of the door, then hesitated as Kite came without putting any of her bags down. "Oh, my lady, you can leave those here.."

"They contain things I need in the bath," Kite said, stretching the truth. She did not fancy leaving her gear anywhere out of her sight, at least, not unprotected. She did not trust the maid, nor the steward, and some of the pouches held valuables useful in multiple worlds. Anna shrugged, and led the way down the echoing corridors to the bath suite, unoccupied at this time of day.

Later, feeling clean and dry at last, Kite sat in the little room brushing her hair out. Released from the buns, it fell most of the way to her waist, except for the braids that framed her face. She had put on the clean tunic she kept with her, hoping she would find somewhere to wash the dirty clothes before too long. She had chosen not to ask Anna if the castle laundry would clean the tunic. She had a feeling she wouldn't be staying here long. The castle was tawdry, the servants sly, and the Duke kept a slave; there was no evidence of anything so bright as a sun here. But because she didn't know, she wasn't sure of what she was looking for - and because she needed to sleep, and the bed at least was free - she was not going to leave. Not without being thrown out, anyway.

There was a knock on the door, and Anna came in bearing an armful of frilly, long-skirted dresses, her face bright and enthusiastic.

"My lady, it's almost time for the banquet, and we should be there before the Duke," she chirped. "Do you wish to select a dress?"

"No thank you," Kite said, standing up and fastening her belt around her waist. Anna didn't look surprised, but then, looking round the room, her expression became confused.

"My lady, your bags..."

"I put them away."

"But.." and well she might protest, for the bags were nowhere in evidence.

"They're fine, thank you," Kite said firmly, hoping that was true. Basic obfuscation spells didn't take much, thankfully, but still, she felt uneasy about leaving the bags in the room in what was only technically not plain sight. "Please, lead the way."

Anna dumped the clothes on the bed, and did so.

The banquet hall was enormous, clearly intended to impress. Kite glanced round, trying to take it all in, but there wasn't as much as the size promised. A single long table stood in the centre of the hall on what had once been a rich red carpet. The carpet covered only where the table was; the familiar grey flagstones that made up the floor were not softened by any other covering. The walls, also predictably grey stone, bore hangings here and there, and a huge curtain hid one of the ends of the hall entirely. As Kite watched it, it twitched aside and a servant came forwards bearing a large jug to the table, where she started filling glasses.

The table would have been dwarfed in the midst of the enormous hall, were it not for the people filling it. Most of them wore rich and somewhat tasteless clothing, but on the other side of the table Kite saw a simply dressed woman in what could be religious garb, and at its foot, a pair of monks sat. Well, if they're not monks, they look like them. Anna ushered Kite to an empty chair halfway up one side of the table, and sat her down, retreating to stand a short distance behind her. Kite endured the intense scrutiny of her neighbours - a young, vivacious woman and an older man - for a short time before the Duke himself arrived, and everyone stood up.

The Duke was a big man, broad of shoulder and only a little fleshy. He had a bushy, well-kept beard, and like his steward, was dressed richly but not quite tastefully. He was tailed by a tall, slender woman who kept her eyes downcast, and a little boy looking round eagerly. His features bore a clear resemblance to the Duke; Kite guessed they were the Duchess and the Duke's heir.

"Thank you, my friends," the Duke said, deep voice echoing in the big hall. "And welcome to our guest, the lady Kite," the Duke continued, "who is on Quest. My lady," he bowed to her, "we are honoured by your presence."

"I thank you for your welcome and hospitality, my Lord," Kite said, keeping her courtesy light and full of smiles.

"What is it you seek, my lady?"

"I am looking for the sun." A murmur rippled round the hall at that. She caught fragments of sentences; what an odd thing to say, and sun-touched, haha. Kite noticed the greasy steward leaning close to his master's ear, and although she couldn't hear what was said, she could make a somewhat uncharitable guess. You won't find anything. As long as the illusion holds. She touched the spell gently and it quivered in her mind, still active. She breathed out steadily, relieved.

"And where do you come from, my lady?" the Duke continued smoothly, his deep voice cutting across the whispering laughter.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

"Far, far away," Kite said, absolutely truthfully. "I have been travelling a long time."

"And you haven't found the sun yet?" More laughter.

"No my lord, else I should not be here sharing this meal with you."

"Then I should be glad indeed."

"Indeed," Kite echoed, despising the formality and the politics. She caught another whisper; absurd. Thankfully, the Duke raised his hands and commanded the party to sit, and she sank down into the seat, feeling quite small and more than a little absurd, indeed.

The older man sitting to her left leaned sideways to allow a servant to deposit a platter of meat on the table, then addressed her.

"So, you come from far away?"

"Um, yes," Kite answered, eyeing the meat which sat just out of polite reach. She ought to be hungry, but her appetite had gone.

"I have travelled extensively, you see," the man waffled on, "so - where do you come from again, if I may ask?"

Kite was saved from the choice of a believable lie or an incredible truth by her other neighbour, who weighed in on the conversation with all the social skill of an elephant at a tea party.

"Oh, don't worry about all that!" Her voice was high-pitched and giggly, somehow matching her frilly dress and elaborately beribboned hairstyle. "Tell me, what do they wear where you come from?"

Kite was torn between being aghast and amused, but she didn't have to reply; the lord on her left responded immediately to the theft of his conversation.

"Lady Corbre! I must object -"

"Don't monopolise her, you old bore!"

"Old bore!" Splutters. "Well, really!"

Kite turned her attention towards trying to eat something. The meat was surprisingly tender and well-flavoured; it had evidently been marinated in something interesting. She kept one ear on the ongoing conversation.

"Well, really? Sometimes I wonder what your parents -"

"My lady, this is most unseemly!"

"Unseemly? Well, how about you, poking and prying at our guest?"

"Oh, lady, um, Kite, how are you finding the food?"

Kite surfaced from an internal reverie.

"It's very nice, thank you," she said, finding it a relief to be capable of both courtesy and honesty in one sentence. Over in the corner, the steward had returned, a dissatisfied expression on his face as he spoke to his lord. Kite poked the spell in her mind again; it was quiescent, undisturbed. Nothing had come even close to testing it. Inwardly, she smirked.

The Duke was giving some more instructions to the steward. That wasn't good. She strained to hear or read his lips, knowing it was pointless.

"Lady Kite, is something the matter?" There was genuine concern in Lady Corbre's voice. Kite regained her composure.

"Oh no, thank you."

"You should eat some more," Lady Corbre encouraged, but before Kite could decline, the Duke clapped his hands, and the table fell into a hush. The lady managed by some sleight of hand to deposit an apple on Kite's plate.

"My friends," the Duke boomed, "we shall have entertainment tonight. Saryth!"

The big curtain moved again, and a slim white-haired figure stepped through. Kite caught her breath; it was the boy from the hill. No longer dressed in shabby grey, he wore a black gown over a fancy shirt and breeches, but his subtle attitude of resigned disgust managed to make the outfit appear dingy nonetheless. In addition to the fine clothes, he sported a black eye, vivid against his pale skin, visible through the strands of white hair that had escaped being caught back into a ponytail. Kite winced.

"What is your wish, my lord?" His tone was subservient.

"Show us... something exotic. Something that will please our guest. None of the more common ones today."

"As my lord commands."

He stepped forward, and a quick movement rustled round the hall as guests shifted edgily. He stopped short of the Duke's chair and raised his hands, an oddly fey smile crossing his face as he closed his eyes and concentrated.

Kite knew what was happening; with some effort she could feel the pulse and shiver of the magic. A gasp ran round the rest of the hall as a unicorn appeared in the young mage's hands, as though it leaped through a hole in reality from some fantastical country, emerging into their own world and bringing a little of its magic with it. Kite risked a glance away from the unicorn to observe the guests; they were all rapt, despite their earlier nervousness. The unicorn approached the Duke and bowed before him, to the delight of the little boy, and was followed by a stream of similarly fantastic creatures; a dragon, a flying horse, fairies and pixies. They cavorted around the table, so real they seemed to have a physical presence. Kite had to admire the artistry - the illusions were beautifully done, especially given the presence of so many sceptics.

The Duke clapped his hands again, and the illusions leaped once more and vanished. Saryth bowed his head, his expression guarded, the momentary elation of the magic completely gone.

"My lord."

The Duke turned to Kite, unsubtle triumph on his broad face.

"Well, my lady, how do you find the entertainment? Do you have such in your native land?"

"My lord Duke, it was very skilful." Truth. And what for the young mage who had crafted illusion with so deft a touch? How long had he been kept here, working illusions for the entertainment of a country noble? Her teachers had warned their pupils about the dangers of interfering with local customs, and she had nodded along with all the others at the tales of Arvadi who had narrowly escaped sticky ends after so doing, but she hadn't realised how difficult it would be to let something like this go unchallenged. She gritted her teeth and applied herself to the apple with more force than strictly necessary as the conversations surged back around her and the servants came through with more wine and the next course.

Four courses later, she had become well acquainted with Lady Corbre's opinions about current fashion and even more familiar with the travels of Lord Ramar, on her left. All the while she had kept an eye on the Duke's sorcerer, who'd been left to stand behind his master and watch the entire table eat. It had been impossible not to think about his situation. If only she could get him alone for a while, it might be possible to do something.

"My friends," the Duke said, breaking into the lazy post-dessert conversations. "It has been a delightful evening, but now I must retire." He laid a hand over his wife's, and smiled. "But first, my lady Kite, is there anything else you wish for the night?"

Kite had managed to avoid drinking much wine over the course of the meal, which meant she couldn't blame what happened next on intoxication.

"My lord, I am wondering if I might further presume upon your hospitality?" This is bound to go horribly wrong.

"Go on," the Duke said, clearly intrigued.

Kite took a breath, and forged ahead.

"I am wondering if I might have the sorcerer's services in my chamber this night?"

Another whisper-mutter ran round the hall, louder this time, but the Duke only raised an eyebrow. Kite was privately appalled at the lack of objection to her request, even though she knew her intentions to be very different from what had been implied. From the looks on the faces of the guests, none of them suspected ulterior motives. Certainly Saryth didn't. He was looking to one side, hair masking his face, but she could see his fists clenched. I'm sorry...

"Are they normally so forthright in your country, my lady?"

"I find that honesty is a great help in conversation," Kite said sweetly. "It ensures the dialogue is kept free from all the tedious double-talk and empy compliments." Was that too overt?

"Indeed." The Duke's expression was unreadable. "Well, you may surely have his service. I shall send him up now."

The steward appeared from behind the curtain, took Saryth's arm and led him away. Kite endured the stares of the guests as the Duke and his family left. Then the guests started rising and milling around, muttering and whispering and still staring at her. The only exceptions were Lady Corbre and Lord Ramar, who pointedly ignored her as she left the room, trailed by Anna.

Outside her tiny chamber, Kite shooed Anna away before opening the door. The maid's expression betrayed her reluctance, but she went. Kite waited for a couple of minutes, then entered the room and closed the door behind her.

Saryth was seated on the bed, dressed as he had been at the banquet. What exactly were you expecting? No, don't think about that. He didn't look up as she came in, but he could hardly have been ignorant of her presence. Kite spotted the black eye again, beneath the concealing curtain of hair.

"What did they do to you?"

"I was punished." His voice was guarded.

"Why?"

"For being outside the castle without permission." His flat tone suggested it hadn't been anything unexpected.

Kite bent over beside the bed and picked up her bags, from habit making sure that they appeared to have come from under the bed. From one of the smaller pockets, she pulled a tub of cream, and dabbed her fingers into it. Saryth eyed her warily from the bed, twitching away as she approached him with a healthy dollop of cream on her fingertips.

"Hold still," she commanded. "It'll help bring the swelling down." Gently, she daubed the cream on round his eye, and he flinched at the slight pressure.

A loud thud sounded at the door, and Anna's voice could be heard, raised in protest.

"Quiet, woman!" A man's voice. The thud at the door came again.

"It's too soon," Saryth muttered.

"What?"

He looked at her as though she ought to understand what was happening.

"I was supposed to do... what you told me," he said, looking away and blushing slightly. "Then make sure you were out of the way." He glanced back at her. "They said they'd give me my freedom if I did!" His expression pleaded understanding, and Kite could hardly blame him. In a way, she was quite impressed that the Duke was so keen to capture her that he would sacrifice what had to be a valuable slave.

She knelt on the bed, and raised her hands in front of her, wrists together, looking expectantly to Saryth. He stared at her, aghast.

"What?"

"Aren't you going to tie me up?" Kite kept her tone cheerful and unconcerned. She thought it would probably all work out, but still, this wasn't how she'd been intending to spend her Journeyman trials. Maybe she'd be the subject of the next set of cautionary tales told to student Seekers.

"No!"

"Why not? It's your freedom." More thumps came at the door. Saryth averted his face.

"They've said that before," he admitted. "They never keep their promises."

Kite felt obscurely insulted. Shrugging the feeling away, she fetched her boots and started lacing them up.

"Shall we go?"

"Go where?" He sounded confused, as well he might. Instead of answering, she stepped to the door and slid the bolt back, pulling the door open so it shielded her from the soldiers who came pouring into the room. On the bed, Saryth jerked back with a yelp. The soldiers checked as they noticed the conspicuous lack of foreign blonde traveller, but they looked round too late. Kite burst out from behind the door, bringing her staff down and round, thwacking one soldier on the head hard enough to knock him out. The staff continued its swing, one end landing in the belly of another, winding him, then reversed direction to knock the feet out from the third soldier, sending him crashing to the floor. By the time the fourth soldier, an older, more experienced man, had even begun to look round, she was holding the staff steady over his head.

"Will you let us leave?"

"Not likely, bitch!" He started to turn, but before she could take any action, Saryth stood up behind the man and smashed the oil lamp over his head with far more panicked force than necessary. The veteran slid to the floor amid the smashed glass and spilt oil, eyes rolling up in his head. Kite swallowed an inappropriate urge to giggle.

"The Duke's chambers?" she asked instead, collecting her bags and cloak.

"This way," Saryth said, heading out of the door at a run. He didn't stop to ask why.

There was nobody else in the castle corridors. It was later than she had realised, and most folk must have retired to their rooms straight after the banquet. Saryth led the way along an immense corridor richly carpeted in gaudy orange, swung round into an unexpected stairwell and headed up the spiral steps at speed. At the top, he paused.

"There'll be guards -"

"Oh, that's fine," Kite interrupted breezily. A little voice at the back of her mind was getting very worried, but something was urging her to continue. She'd never felt this mixture of fear and excitement before.

"What are you doing?" Saryth hissed, as she walked round the corner.

"I'm going to talk to them. Come on."

She found it surprising that he followed her. She did not feel she had earned that level of trust.

There were two guards standing before a large pair of doors at the end of the corridor. They looked at each other as the unlikely pair approached, uncertain of what to do. Kite didn't think the outcry that would follow from the four unconscious guards in her chamber would have penetrated this far yet, but even as she came closer, the younger guard said to his companion:

"Isn't she..."

"Yes..." There was a pause as they assessed the situation.

"You'd better come with me," the first guard said, hefting his pike. Kite sighed. As the guard approached, confident of the capitulation of the unarmed intruders, she turned and ran, dragging a thoroughly confused Saryth behind her.

"How is this supposed to help?" he demanded, but she jerked to a stop instead, crouching down and raising the staff, held horizontally. Unable to stop in time, the two guards ran into the staff and tripped forwards. Kite didn't even bother knocking them out, but hurried back to the big door and hauled it open to reveal the Duke's lavish chamber. Saryth slipped in beside her, pushed the door shut and slid the bolt home even as the Duke, enraged, sat up in his bed.

"What are you doing here?" he bellowed. "Get out! Guards!" Beside him, his wife cowered into the sheets, trying to hide.

Kite bowed.

"I came to thank you for your hospitality," she said. "I shall be taking my leave now." The Duke didn't want to listen.

"Get out this instant! How dare you!"

"I wish to buy this slave," Kite said, remaining calm in the face of his temper. The little rational voice in her head stopped gibbering long enough to wonder if the Duke was sufficiently enraged to get out of bed and fight her. From behind, she could hear the sounds of the two guards trying the door.

"GET OUT!" He was actually becoming red with rage now. The guards were beating futilely on the solid wooden planks of the door.

"I offer one gold horse coin," she went on, but he was beyond hearing.

"Woman, get out and take that accursed sorcerer with you!"

"Thank you," Kite said, gave him a bright smile, and placed the gold coin on the thick rug which covered the floor. She turned to the gaping Saryth. "I think we should take another way out."

"There should be a servants' door," he said, gathering his wits and gesturing to the back of the room. The pounding at the door died away as they ran down the narrow, dimly lit stairs. Behind, they could hear the Duke shouting at the soldiers who were belatedly swarming into his chamber.

"Get the woman! And bring back my slave!"

"We shouldn't go out by the main door," Kite said as they hurried down the steps.

"No problem." Saryth stopped at one of the windows that lit the narrow stairwell. Kite inspected it. It was small, but not too narrow, and she thought it was the right height from the ground. She gave Saryth a lift up, then hauled herself to the narrow sill and followed him through the window passage to jump to the ground, a drop of about ten feet. It was a short run to a nearby copse, where she could duck out of sight of any guards atop the castle walls. Saryth followed her. He was smiling, but the smile had an odd edge to it she couldn't interpret.

"Won't they come after us?"

"Yes... Let me give them something to do." She raised the staff in her hand, forming the spell in her mind and calling on the power stored within the slender shaft of wood. Somewhere in the bowels of the castle, a coal shifted in an oven. A spark fell from the half-open door and landed on a piece of paper left on the floor. The shouts of the guards, dimly heard in the night, were overtaken by the shrieks of the cooks and kitchen warders as they struggled with the sudden blaze. It should keep them busy, Kite hoped, without being too much to handle.

Saryth was watching her, silent. If the presence of a mage who did not bear the telltale white hair fazed him, it didn't show.

"What about the sun?" he asked. "The one you're looking for?"

"There's nothing shining here." She tried and failed to keep the disappointment from her voice. "I should have known."

"Am I... am I your slave now?" He had turned away, hiding his face behind his hair, which was glinting cream and silver in the moonlight.

Kite was honestly appalled that she had let him think such a thing, a logical assumption from his point of view. She opened her mouth to say something, but then instead reached to the collar and identified the lock. A small, subtle lock, but not one proof against picking. Saryth held still as she worked, tense and wary. It did not take long.

"No," she said in belated reply, as the collar snicked open and fell from round his neck into her hands. She passed it to him. "You belong to you, like you always should have."

Saryth gaped at her. He started to speak, and stopped, looking down at the collar, lying inert and empty in his grasp.

"Where are you going?" he asked finally.

"I'm still looking for the sun."

"Why?" he asked again, as though the answer would be different from what he had heard before.

"Because it's lost," Kite said, and then, by way of elaboration, "it's a terrible thing for a world to lose a sun." She turned away from the castle and the shouts and commands of its inhabitants dealing with their unexpected fire.

"A world... Kite, can I -" he hesitated; she stopped, looking back at him. "Let me come with you?" he asked. "Please!"

She hadn't expected a companion on the journey, certainly not one not of her own people, unfamiliar to world walking. But she wasn't going anywhere outside this world just yet, and it seemed a little unfair to just abandon him in the middle of nowhere, in a world where he was at such a disadvantage already.

"We can walk in the same direction," she offered a compromise. "If you wish."

He dropped the collar and fell in beside her at once, willingly following her direction, although she hadn't said where she was going, nor why. On the other side of the trees, the full moon lit their path away from the castle and its attendant villages, towards a range of hills that stood out even at night. It was a cool, clear night, and walking was easy under the moon.

After a while, he asked:

"How will we know the sun when we see it?"

"It will shine," Kite said, unsure of how literally the phrase should be taken, but certain that it was true. "It's the sun. Nothing else can be quite like it."