Did she glow? she wondered. Turning her head, she examined her friends. Did they? She thought she saw something in them, but it shifted and hid when she tried to pin it down.

"Tris," Rosethorn said. She pointed to her workshop: the nestling was calling. "This should be the last feeding of the day."

Hurriedly Tris poured the last of the goat's milk into a cup, and carried it into the workshop. Once it was safely in the little pan, she put it on to heat. Her nestling was cheeping more loudly than he had that morning. This has to be a good thing, she thought, though at the moment it simply made her nervous. The milk seemed to take forever to warm and she had almost forgotten the honey. Running to the supper table, she grabbed the bowl and carried it back, to gently add a tiny spoonful to the heating liquid.

At last it was warm. She took the pan off the heat, stinging her fingers, then thrust in the reed and capped the dry end with her finger. Gently removing the handkerchief that sheltered her charge, she could see that he wanted to be fed, right now. Carefully she dripped milk into his yawning beak, until he'd had enough. Staring up at Tris, he burped, and settled down to sleep.

"You do that very well."

She twitched, getting a drop of milk on her cheek. Dabbing it off with a bit of cotton, she looked at her cousin. He leaned on the counter, his dark eyes serious. He was nearly twenty-two, she remembered, one of three boys and two girls in her uncle's family. He was their pride and joy, the future mage who would make them rich.

"I've been practising all day." She covered the nest carefully, and blew out the candle that served as her cook-fire. With relief she saw that the sun had finally passed below the top of the outer wall.

"Why aren't you in Ninver?" he asked. "All Master Goldeye would say is that you're his student. I'm envious, you know. Niklaren Goldeye is on the Mage-Council of Lightsbridge. He's very famous."

"Will you stop talking long enough for a person to answer your questions?" she demanded.

He smiled, but there was something nervous in his eyes. "Sorry. I guess I'm excited, meeting him, and - and finding you, of course. Why are you here?"

"They didn't want me," she said flatly. "They gave me to Broken Circle Temple, and Broken Circle sent me here. I didn't know till I'd been here for weeks that Broken Circle sent me because I had magic."

"Do you mean the magic-seer didn't find it?" Aymery wasn't looking at her; instead he drew invisible signs on the counter-top. "He saw it in me."

"Not me," she said, her temper starting to heat. "The family, and Broken Circle - they thought I was possessed, or haunted, or - not all human. They..." Bundles of herbs drying overhead rustled. Leaves on the floor whipped, shaken by the rising wind.

Tris glared up into her cousin's face. Now that she thought of it, Aymery - whose eyes always looked as if they smiled just for the person he looked at, even when the person he looked at had been her - Aymery had always been kind. He'd never done her any harm. Tris sighed, and let go of the rage that had been growing in her throat. Leaves dropped back to the floor. Herbs settled, their fragrance drifting around the room. "Niko says my magic's - strange. It's tied into the weather. I don't understand it myself."

Aymery shook his head. "They told us a mage never stops learning new things. Ah - Trisana -"

"Tris," she said. "Only Cousin Uraelle called me by my full name."

"Tris. I had a letter from Mother - it was waiting for me when I got here. She says Uncle Valden is ill, maybe dying. I think you should go home, as soon as possible."

She blinked at him. How on earth was she supposed to feel about news like this? "If my father wants me, he'll send for me," she snapped. Herbs rattled overhead, harder than a moment ago; leaves and dust twirled on the floor. Breezes plucked at their hair and clothes. "The last time I saw him, he told a stranger that he and my mother didn't want me back. Not ever!"

"You can't let that stand in your way," Aymery insisted. "Go home while you can - that's what I'd do. Go home, now, and make your peace with him. I'll give you money for your passage. And there's a ship in Summersea -"

The herbs were now flapping in the air, tossed by the rising wind in the little room. One bunch snapped from its mooring, and flew through the door into the main room.

"Tris," Niko called in a warning voice.

Briar leaned into the door, the bunch of herbs in one hand. "Get hold of yourself!" the boy hissed. "If you make a mess after all the straightening I did -"

"What is it? What's the matter?" Aymery wanted to know, looking from Briar to the blushing Tris.

She knew what it was. She'd started to lose her temper again, heating up the air around her. If she didn't calm down, she could start a whirlwind in here - small thanks for all Rosethorn's kindnesses today. Taking a deep breath, she folded her hands before her and counted, slowly, thinking only of her breath and the numbers.

The air in the workshop went still.

"Master Niko! Master Niko!" shouted someone from the front of the cottage. "You're needed at the Hub!"

Tris and Aymery followed Briar into the main room. Everyone was staring at the dishevelled novice who clung to the door-frame, panting.

"What's wrong?" asked Niko, rising from his seat.

"You won't believe it," gasped the novice. "It happened, it happened just a few minutes ago. Every crystal and mirror in the seeing-room shattered. Every one! Even the water-bowls where people look for visions broke!"