“I’m more restless than my brothers. But it’s so beautiful, my castle; it’s the most wonderful place to go home to. It sits on a cliff above the sea. There are steps down to the water, cut into the cliff. And balconies hanging over the cliff—you feel as if you’ll fall if you lean too far. At night the sun goes down across the water, and the whole sky turns red and orange, and the sea to match it. Sometimes there are great fish out there, fish of impossible colors. They come to the surface and roll about—you can watch them from the balconies. And in winter the waves are high, and the wind’ll knock you down. You can’t go out to the balconies in winter. It’s dangerous, and wild.

“Grandfather,” he said suddenly. He jumped up and turned to the bed. Informed that his grandfather had awoken, Katsa thought wryly, by the eyes in the back of his head.

“You speak of your castle, boy,” the old man said.

“Grandfather, how are you feeling?”

Katsa ate her apple and listened to them talk. Her head was full of the things Po had said. She hadn’t known there were sights in the world so beautiful a person would want to spend an age staring at them.

Po turned to her then, and a torch on the wall caught the gleam of his eyes. She focused on breathing. “I have a weakness for beautiful sights,” he said. “My brothers tease me.”

“Your brothers are the foolish ones,” Tealiff said, “for not seeing the strength in beautiful things. Come here, child,” he said to Katsa. “Let me see your eyes, for they make me stronger.”

And his kindness brought a smile to her face, though his words were nonsense. She went to sit beside Grandfather Tealiff, and he and Po told her more about Po’s castle and Po’s brothers and Ror’s city in the sky.

Chapter Eleven

“HOW FAR IS Giddon’s estate from Randa City?” Po asked her late one morning. They sat on the floor of their practice room, drinking water and resting. It had been a good session. Po had returned the day before from a visit to Nander, and Katsa thought the time apart had been good for them. They came together again with a new sharpness.

“It’s near,” Katsa said. “In the west. A day’s journey, perhaps.”

“Have you seen it?”

“Yes. It’s large and very grand. He doesn’t get home often, but he still manages to keep it well.”

“I’m sure he does.”

Giddon had come to their practice today. He’d been the only visitor, and he hadn’t stayed long. She didn’t know why he came, when it always seemed to put him in a bad humor.

Katsa lay on her back and looked up at the high ceiling. The light poured into the room from the great, east-facing windows. The days were beginning to shorten. The air would crispen soon, and the castle would smell of wood burning in the fireplaces. The leaves would crackle under her horse’s hooves when she went riding.