“I always thought you belonged in a tree,” Malta teased her brother weakly. “Why don't you go and play somewhere?” He gave her an owly stare, then smiled cautiously. He looked around the sitting room, then edged closer to her on the divan. He sat on her foot and she winced and pulled it away. She still ached all over.

Selden leaned too close to her and whispered in her face, “Malta? Promise me something?”

She leaned back from him. He'd been eating spiced meat. “What?”

He glanced around again. “When you and Reyn get married, can I live here with you in Trehaug?”

She didn't tell him how unlikely it was that she would ever marry Reyn. “Why?” she asked him.

He sat up straight, swinging his feet now. “I like it here. There are boys to play with, and I get to have my lessons with some of the Khuprus sons. I love the swinging bridges. Mother is always afraid I'll fall off them, but most of them have nets strung under them as well. I like watching the fire birds spoon in the shallows of the river.” He paused, then added boldly, “I like it that not everyone here is so worried all the time.” He leaned even closer and added, “And I like the old city. I sneaked into it last night, with Wilee, after everyone else was asleep. It's spooky. I loved it.”

“Were you in the city when it quaked last night?”

“That was the best part!” His eyes were alight with the adventure.

“Well, don't do it again. And don't tell Mama,” she warned him automatically.

“Do I look stupid?” he demanded in a superior way.

“Yes,” she confirmed.

He grinned. “I'm going to go find Wilee. He promised to take me out in one of the thick boats, if we could sneak one.”

“Watch out, or the river will eat it from under you.”

He gave her a worldly look. “That's a myth. Oh, if there was a quake and the river ran white, then it might eat it fast. But Wilee says a thick boat will last ten days, sometimes more if the river runs regular. They last even longer if you pull them out at night, turn them upside down and piss on them.”

“Ew. That is probably another myth, one told to make you look foolish when you repeat it.”

“No. Wilee and I saw the men pissing on the boats two nights ago.”

“Go away, dirty boy.” She tugged her coverlet away from him.

He stood up. “Can I live with you, after you marry Reyn? I never want to go back to Bingtown.”

“We'll see,” she said firmly. Go back to Bingtown? She wondered if there even was a Bingtown. There had been no word from Grandmother since they arrived, and there wasn't likely to be. The only messages the birds carried back and forth had to do with the war. The Kendry that had ferried them up the river was the only liveship making the run. The others were all on patrol near the mouth of the river and around Bingtown Harbor, trying to drive off not only Chalcedean galleys but sea serpents. Lately the waters near the river mouth were infested with them.

As abruptly as a bird taking flight, Selden hopped off the divan and left the chamber. She shook her head as she looked after him. He had recovered so swiftly. More than recovered; he had suddenly become a person. Was that what parents meant when they said children grew up so fast? She felt almost sentimental about her annoying little brother. She wondered, wryly, if that meant she were growing up, too.

She leaned back on the divan and closed her eyes again. The windows of the chamber were open and the river air flowed in one and out the other. She had almost become accustomed to the smell. Someone scratched lightly at the door, then entered.

“Well. You look much better today.” The healer was chronically optimistic.

“Thank you.” Malta didn't open her eyes. The woman didn't wear a veil. Her face had the pebbled texture of a muffin. The skin of her hands was as rough as the pads of a dog's feet. It made Malta's flesh crawl when the woman touched her. “I feel sure that all I need is more rest,” Malta added in the hopes of being left alone.

“To lie still is actually the worst thing for you right now. Your vision has returned to normal, you told me. You no longer see two of everything?”

“My vision seems fine,” Malta assured her.

“You are eating well, and your food agrees with you?”

“Yes.”

“Your dizziness has gone?”

“It only bothers me if I move suddenly.”

“Then you should be up and about.” The woman cleared her throat, a wet sound. Malta tried not to flinch. The healer snorted loudly, as if catching her breath, then went on, “You've no broken bones that we can find. You need to get up and move about, to remind your limbs of how to work. If you lie still too long, the body forgets. You may cripple yourself.” A sour reply would only make the woman more insistent. “Perhaps I shall feel up to it this afternoon.”