They sailed in over the settlement, and with a dainty dip Tumna landed by the reeve quarters. Nallo pulled her feet up out of reflex and, slowly, lowered herself within the angle of the harness to stand, legs shaking, on earth.

She swayed there, dazed, as folk called and Arda came out with a pair of fawkners to tend to the bird. They unhooked her and led her, unresisting and unable to speak, to a big tent covered in canvas, just in time, because rain began to fall, drumming on the taut canvas roof. Nallo hoped that everyone working in the conduit was out for the night but she didn’t say so because she could not talk.

Arda sat her down on a bench and handed her a cup. The sharply spiced cordial scalded her throat. She coughed, blinking away tears.

Reeves—mostly young men and a few women and older men—came running in under cover. Out beyond the roped-back entrance a stocky black-haired young man who looked remarkably like one of the Qin soldiers—only he was dressed in reeve’s leathers—was speaking with evident intensity to a pair of black-clad Qin soldiers. They shrugged and turned away, leaving him alone in the rain while everyone else laughed and talked around plank tables set up as an eating hall.

“You don’t have to fly again if you choose not to.” Arda poured cordial from a pitcher into the empty cup and sipped.

“I—I—I saw—” She wiped rain from her brow and blinked as another pair of lamps flared. The gods! This place was lit like they had oil to spare, and surely they did. Thunder boomed. “I saw a fireling, just like in the tales. It boomed, like thunder only so much smaller. Like it was laughing at me.”

Nallo hadn’t thought she could say anything that would surprise that competent woman, but the trainer’s face went blank as she blew out breath between pursed lips. “Eihi!”

“You don’t believe me!”

“Don’t snap at me! I’m shaking my head because I do believe you. Here, now.” Her gaze slipped away and her eyes narrowed. “What’s he doing here?”

Nallo turned.

Volias sauntered up. “Greetings of the day to you, too, my darling Arda.” He made a gesture of rudely passing a kiss before turning to Nallo. “Listen, Nallo, I have a proposition.”

“Volias,” said Arda with a sour grimace, “why you think she’d be interested in your ugly—”

“Neh, neh, not that kind of proposition. I’m not Joss, am I? Listen, Nallo.” With a bright grin, like Jerad when he’d caught a fish, he straddled the bench, grabbed the cup out of Arda’s hand, and drained it in one go. “Whew!” He screwed up his mouth, squinting. “That’s strong stuff!” He set down the cup. “Listen, Nallo, I know you’re angry about Joss and how he handled things, so I had a talk with the commander in Clan Hall. Plus in addition this trouble with Pil has got to be solved, so—”