Saryth woke in pitch darkness on a comfortable bed in an empty room, with no idea where he was or how he’d got there. The last time he’d slept on a bed, in a room, on his own, was - back at Top House? No, as his vision adjusted, the dim shapes of the room were wrong. Nor was this Pyetr’s house. Then his memory offered up the Mage Tower, and then Kite, and the flight and the gate, and the rain, and Kite collapsing into the mud by a large house. He had half-carried, half-dragged her to the door and knocked, and a woman had opened the door and said, quite calmly, “Ah. You must be Saryth. Come in.” Vague recollections of warmth and comforting words and a bed which had been very welcome. This bed. As his memory caught up, only one important question remained. Where’s Kite?

He sat up and pushed the blankets back, then swung his feet to the floor. He was wearing a long loose sleeping tunic which he didn’t even remember putting on last night. Pulling it straight, he ventured out into the hall. The floor was covered with a worn rug, its faded patterns barely visible in the subdued light from two small lamps on the wall. There were stairs to one side leading down into the shadows of the ground floor, and more doors along the opposite wall. Loud snoring emanated from one. He went to the nearest quiet room, listened for a moment then eased the door open.

It was a small room, fitted out with a child’s furniture, but the bed opposite the door was normal size. The room was as dark as his had been, but the dim light from the hall showed him who was lying there. Relieved, he went in for a closer look. Kite was sleeping deeply, her breathing even and regular, her face relaxed.

“Hey!” Saryth jumped at the low exclamation and whirled round, nearly losing his balance. A small shape stood silhouetted in the doorway, hands on hips. “What are you doing in my sister’s room?!” Startled and confused, Saryth hurried out to the hall and Kite’s little sister shut the door behind him firmly. Then she glared at him. “Well?”

He couldn’t find anything to say. The whole situation had taken on the aura of a dream. Maybe a nightmare. She made flapping motions at him. “Go back to your room!”

He obeyed.

Nothing was said the next morning, but Chess - as he was introduced to her at breakfast - kept giving him baleful glances over the table. The meal was bread, cheese, eggs and fruit, with plenty of tea alongside. The table was a normal wooden one. The room was small and cosy, with large clear windows betraying more wealth than the worn furniture might suggest. Kite was relaxed and cheerful, and had hardly limped at all on the stairs. She chatted with her parents and Chess. It was entirely surreal.

“Did you sleep well, Saryth?” Kite’s mother asked. She’d told him to call her Kettle, but that just seemed a step too casual. And it was an odd name. Kite and Chess were similarly named, of course, but somehow theirs were easier for him to say.

“Yes, thank you. I did.”

Chess made a grumpy noise and glared at him some more.

“More tea?” Kettle asked.

“Oh - yes, thank you.” Saryth held his cup out for the refill, then buried his nose in it as a convenient excuse not to talk. To his relief, she turned her attention to Kite.

“How long are you going to be staying?”

“Oh, not long,” Kite said. “We need clothes, really, and a short rest to recover. That’s all.”

“But will you be staying for Midwinter?”

“I’d like that.”

“Good.”

After a few minutes’ more small talk, Kettle pushed back her chair and stood up. “Well, then,” she said, “we can sort out clothes now. Tavor, if you take Saryth upstairs?” Saryth hastily swallowed the rest of his tea. “Kite, come with me. We should do something about your hair. Chess, would you clear breakfast up, please?”

Chess made the grumpy noise again and looked away. Saryth followed Kite’s father out of the room, relieved to be away from her glare.

By the time she reached the top of the stairs, Kite was limping again. Her leg had felt almost normal when she woke up, but stairs were clearly too much for it. Her mother noticed, of course.

“How’s your leg?” she asked as she opened the boxroom door.

“It’s all right.” Kite stepped inside the small room, trying not to lean on anything too obviously. Her mother went to the wardrobes which lined one wall and rummaged in the middle one.

“You need to take better care of yourself,” she said, pulling out a familiar garment. “Anyway, we’ve got more of your favourite.”

“Great!” Kite took the tunic and trousers with relief.

“What else do you need?”

“Boots and cloak. Bags and staff - again. That’s it.”

Her mother fixed her with a look. “You forgot your hair. Sit.” She nodded to the sofa at the far end of the room, and Kite went obediently to sit in front of it. Her mother sat behind her, making tutting noises about the state of her hair. “What did you do, hack it off with a knife?”

“Sort of.”

“Well, you missed the side bits.” Her scissors came round Kite’s cheek, and Kite jerked away, putting her hand up.

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“Leave those!”

“But -”

“I’m keeping them!”

“All right, all right...”

Later, her hair trimmed and woven into tiny side braids, and dressed in her new clothes, Kite found Saryth similarly outfitted, a vast improvement on the old dressing gown he’d been wearing at breakfast. He beamed at her. “You got your old clothes back!”

“I never knew my Dad had stuff like that,” she said, admiring his outfit in turn. Her father had given him a glorious yellow-orange shirt and a neat black tunic to go over the top, as well as some sensible trousers and a tie for his hair. It was longer than hers now. Kite stifled regret. It’ll grow back. Anyway, it’s good to have a change.

“Saryth, a moment please?” her mother said, appearing from the boxroom. Kite eyed her warily, and was not reassured by the grin her mother gave her in return. Saryth looked nervous but followed her into the boxroom. The door shut firmly behind him. Kite hung around, hoping nobody else would come by, but her hopes were dashed by Chess who came along just in time to overhear the start of the conversation.

“Saryth, what are your intentions concerning my daughter?”

Chess choked with laughter and Kite glared at her. “Shh!”

“Sorry?” Saryth sounded confused.

“What is it you feel about her? And what do you want from her?”

Saryth didn’t hesitate. “She’s my friend, and I want to be with her.”

Chess made gagging noises and Kite wanted to hit her. “Shut up!” Her heart was so full it hurt and she wanted to think about what he’d said and her annoying little sister was the last thing she wanted to deal with right now.

“Thank you,” Kite’s mother said. “Where will you go next?”

“I don’t know. It depends on Kite. Although I do need to talk to her about that.” About what?

“Then do. Thank you for your honesty.”

“You’re welcome.”

Kite and Chess jerked back against the wall as the door opened, but this one opened outwards hiding them from Saryth’s view as he walked away. Kettle came out too, watched him go, then closed the door and gave her daughters a long hard stare.

“Eavesdropping is a bad habit,” she said at last.

“I know,” Kite said, unrepentant. “Are you satisfied?”

“With him? Absolutely,” and she grinned wickedly. “In fact, I think I’m more worried for him than for you - perhaps I’ll ask you the same questions.”

“Mother!”

Saryth wasn’t surprised when Tavor found him and gave him a new eyepatch. He’d offered to find one earlier. Why Kite’s family would have one to hand was beyond Saryth’s guess, but he was grateful for it. He’d just finished tying it when Kite turned up, looking rather flustered.

“Saryth!”

“Mm?”

“My mum said you had something to discuss?”

“Oh, yes. About the sun.” She started up the corridor and he followed, trying to get his thoughts in order. “You said it wasn’t sentient. That it didn’t have reasons. That it is the bit of the sun that shines. Right?”

“Yes.” She turned into a small alcove in the wall, a nook with seats by a bay window, and sat down with a small noise of relief. Saryth sat down opposite.

“When I was working for Vorannen,” he said, “I had to do spells together with the other mages. We, um, sort of pooled our magic. We had to call something.”

“Call something?”

“Yes. I don’t think any of them knew what, but I... I recognised the feel of it.” He glanced up. She was listening intently. “It was Aeryn.”

“What?”

“We were calling a specific individual, and it felt like Aeryn.” There was no way he could explain that. Even the experience of merging magic was beyond the words he had. But it had felt unmistakeably familiar, although it had taken him some time to work out how. “So I thought, what if the part of a sun that shines could be sentient, what would it look like? How would it act?”

Kite put one hand to her head. “Aeryn was afraid of Dunburgh,” she said.

Saryth nodded. “I think maybe Vorannen was looking for something powerful, and he found Aeryn, but Aeryn ran away.”

“And now he’s lost. Yes, that makes sense!” She punched the cushion with sudden anger. “And we lost him too.” She was silent for a moment, scowling in thought, sighed and relaxed again. “We can find him. We’ll go to the capital and search through the records. That’s what I did when I started looking.”

Saryth began to say something but Kite stiffened and held up a hand. Confused, he fell silent She scowled deeply, stood up carefully and edged along the wall, then leapt around the corner with a shout. “Hey! What are you doing?! This is a private conversation!”

“Private, yeah right!” Chess retorted from her hiding place. “It wasn’t even interesting!” Saryth edged to the outside of the alcove and looked round the wall at the sisters’ standoff. Kite had flushed bright pink.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what I said!” Chess backed up, then spun and ran off down the corridor.

“Brat! Come here!” Kite made a grab for her but missed. Chess’ laugh trailed her footsteps.

“Hey! Careful!” Kettle said as Chess dodged past her and scurried down the stairs. “Chess... oh well.” She turned to Kite and Saryth. “I brought mulled wine.” She held out the tray and they took a mug each and sat down again. Kettle joined them. “Have you decided what to do next?”

“We’re going to the capital,” Kite said. “But not for a few days. I’d like to rest for a bit first.” She looked at Saryth, and he smiled in agreement. “We both would.”