“I don’t know.” How to answer that question? “I suppose it would depend entirely on what was happening. I think I would try to prevent them from hurting another human but . . . I don’t know.” She felt absolutely helpless. What was the right answer? Was there a right answer? “Coercing them to keep them from harming someone is still coercion! I won’t do that! I won’t! They are free creatures and how can I enslave them even if I think it’s for their own good? How is that right?”

“How, indeed.”

“Friends are not slaves,” she said, finally. “And no friend would make another a slave. That’s all I know.” She looked deeply into those Eyes. “I’m not very wise. I’m not very old. I’m often not right. But I . . . try my best to do what is right.”

“You have been heard.”

The sound came again, and the Being . . . dissolved away. And she dissolved into sleep.

12

IN the morning, she wasn’t sure if she had passed or failed her tests. But Air Magic came to her just as easily, and there were pixies frisking about the inside of the vardo when she pulled back the bed-curtain, so she could only assume with that evidence that at least she had not failed.

The feeling of uncertainty passed, as the camp woke around her and everyone went back to the daily business of the shows. She incorporated the card-cutting trick into her act that very day, but the whole time, during her turns and in the breaks, she thought about what that Being had asked her. And what she had, more or less, promised.

That was when she decided that yes, there was something she could do that would keep her from ever having an Air Elemental in the position of having to decide to kill for her.

And that was, to make sure she had such control over her own powers that if any killing was to be done, she would be the one with the skills and the will to do it.

And that meant no more relying on the sylphs or the other Air Elementals to help her with things she could control herself. It was time to learn how to control every single aspect of Air, from snuffing a candle to calling a storm. After all, it was just a matter of control and practice, right? And how do you become good at anything? she reminded herself. Practice, practice, practice.