And he told her all about Prince Toreth and his plans. “And he spoke about you, actually,” he finished. “He said that he would much rather have you in his cadre than Orest, because Orest’s tongue is a bit too loose, but that you are sensible and intelligent, and he thinks it would be no bad thing to have a Far-Sighted Winged One who is not afraid to speak the truth to advise him.”

“Oh!” she exclaimed, putting one hand to her lips in surprise. “I—I am not certain what to say!”

“At the moment, you’re supposed to be on a farm beyond the Seventh Canal, so you don’t need to say anything,” he reminded her. “There is no way you could know this if you were where you were supposed to be.”

“That’s true,” she admitted. “I want to think about this.” She paused. “Did you mean that—about my becoming a Healer for the dragons and going to the Jousters’ Compound once the Magi stop being interested in me?”

“As long as Lord Khumun and your father agree,” he replied. “We don’t need a Healer for the dragons much, but it would be very useful to have a Far-Sighted Winged One about. And it would be very useful to have someone who could talk to the dragons. You might get somewhere in soothing the wild-caught ones, now that we’ve got them to where they can actually be handled safely, and you can help us train the little ones.”

She frowned in thought. “I need to think about this,” she repeated.

He decided it was time to drop the subject, and instead went on to tell her about flying in the rain, and the sorties that the swamp dragon riders were doing.

“Their dragons are smaller than the desert dragons, and I think it’s the first time some of them have gotten a taste of victory,” he concluded. “If there were more of them, it would be all right, because two of them could take a rider on a desert dragon. But being outnumbered and riding smaller beasts makes things hard for them.”

“You’re making a real difference, then!” she exclaimed with pleasure. “Oh, how wonderful! I wish I was doing half as much.”

“And what is it you always told Orest when he started fretting about not being a soldier?” he asked her, with a raised eyebrow.

“ ‘The job of a student is to be a student,’ ” she sighed. “I suppose I’m a student all over again, then.”

“You might as well be,” he agreed. “But why don’t you tell me why it is that the Healers do not care for the Magi? Because, obviously, they don’t or you wouldn’t be safe here.”

She pursed her lips, and rested her chin on her fist. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I never thought to ask.”