Yet it was Aris who raised the question of magery. “I do not understand how the king is so sure only Beclan has mage powers,” he said one morning as he tossed a hauk back to Camwyn, who caught it, twirled it, and tossed it back, this time to Aris’s heart-hand.

“No one else has shown any,” Camwyn said.

“But Beclan didn’t know he had it, so how does the king know someone else doesn’t? He might have it himself. You might.”

“Duke Verrakai says we don’t.”

“But she didn’t think Beclan had it, did she, until he used it? Does it just come when it’s ready, like beard hairs?”

“I don’t think we should talk about this,” Camwyn said.

“Why not?”

“I don’t think Mikeli would like it.” He was sure Mikeli would not like it after the lecture he’d had from the Marshal-Judicar. He could see from Aris’s expression that the younger boy was about to ask why. “Besides … surely if I had it, I’d know.”

“You had something that made that dragon give you a ride,” Aris said. Of all Camwyn’s friends, Aris had been the only one who seemed envious of that. The others had shuddered.

“Nothing makes a dragon do anything,” Camwyn said. He was sure of that.

“Then why did it choose you and not the king?”

“I wanted to. I asked.”

“Would it come if you called it?”

“No,” Camwyn said. “And it’s ‘he,’ not ‘it.’ ”

“I wish I could see it—him,” Aris said. He said nothing more for a time as they went into one of the armsmaster’s more complicated drills involving simultaneous cross-throws. Finally, one of Aris’s thrown hauks hit one of Camwyn’s with a clatter and bounced loudly on the stone floor of the Bells’ training hall, where Camwyn had permission to practice these early mornings. That brought a yeoman-marshal out of the Bells’ offices.

“Oh—it’s you, prince. A little more careful if you please. I thought we had an invasion of orcs.”

“We didn’t drop them on purpose,” Aris said.

“With more purpose and attention, you would not drop them at all.” The yeoman-marshal, Camwyn knew, reported to the Knight-Commander of the Bells and was therefore no one to annoy.

“Sorry, Yeoman-Marshal,” Camwyn said. “It is a new drill the armsmaster gave me but a tenday ago; this is the first time we’ve tried to speed it up.”

“Slow it back down, then,” the yeoman-marshal said, and went back to the offices.

“Something simple,” Camwyn said. “We can’t afford to anger him. I can’t.”

“I think you should try it,” Aris said when they paused again, this time without any dropped hauks.

“Try what?” Camwyn mopped his sweaty face with a towel.

“Calling the dragon. Just to see if you can. You might need him someday.”