As the dark speck in the sky grew larger, Tryss watched apprehensively. Hours had passed since the time Drilli had said she would meet him. He had strapped on his new harness three times, determined he would not wait for her. Each time he had unstrapped the harness again. She had extracted a promise from him that he wouldn’t test it unless she was there to see, and he didn’t want to disappoint her.

Now, watching the approaching Siyee, he felt his pulse quicken with alternating dread and excitement. Drilli had come to observe him work many times. He had expected her to grow bored, but she just sat close by and talked endlessly. To his surprise, he liked it. Mostly she spoke of their families, or the landwalker’s alliance proposal, but often she would question him about the things he had made. Sometimes she made suggestions. Occasionally they were good.

The speck had grown into a figure now. It descended toward him and he sighed with relief as he recognized Drilli’s wing patterns. He picked up the harness and ducked his head through the loop of the neck strap, then began to secure the other bindings.

A whistle of greeting heralded her arrival. She landed gracefully and strode toward him, grinning.

“Look at you,” she said.

“You’re late,” he told her, completely failing to sound annoyed.

“I know. I’m sorry. Mother had me plucking girri for hours.” She flexed her fingers. “Are you ready?”

“Been ready for hours.”

“Let’s go, then.”

They leapt into the air together. The wind set the straps of his harness humming. It was lighter than the last, having fewer parts. The main weight hung from just below his chest, however, so he was more conscious of this harness than the last.

“Comfortable?” Drilli called.

“Bearable,” he replied.

They swooped down toward a narrow valley. Unlike the bare sides of the mountain, which were covered with only the toughest of grasses and trees, the valley was filled with vegetation and more likely to be hiding prey. As they swooped across the treetops something launched itself into the air. Drilli gave a whoop of excitement.

“Get him!” she shrieked.

It was an ark, a predatory bird more used to hovering, swooping and stunning its prey with paralyzing magic than being chased itself. It glided below them, occasionally flapping its wings.

Tryss followed it. He drew his arms together and grabbed the pipe strapped to his side, then spread his wings wide before he could fall far. Another quick movement brought the pipe to his lips. Now it was time to see if his latest adaptation proved useful.