obscured whatever faint expression it might have held.
'Starblade disassociated himself from me when testing proved me to have no real magic,' he said carefully. 'Do you really wish to hear this?
It is not particularly interesting.'
'Why don't you let me judge that?' Skif replied, just as carefully.
'It will help me to know k'sheyna through you.' Wintermoon raised an eyebrow at that, but made no other comment.
'So, then,' he began. 'My mother was a k'treva mage, who came to k'sheyna to look for a father for outclan children. She bargained with Starblade for twins, male and female, the male to leave, the female to take back with her. I do not know if my sister had mage-powers, but I did not, and I am told I was a great disappointment to my father. I did not know that, and I only knew he was my father because I was told, for I scarcely saw him.'
'At least you know who yours is,' Skif replied, with a bitterness that took him by surprise. 'I don't. If I have any sibs, I don't know that, either. Mother never got around to telling me anything; she was too busy teaching me to pick pockets. Then someone decided to get rid of her-a rival thief-and I was on my own.' He snapped his mouth shut, appalled at the way he had simply blurted that out to a near-stranger; things he hadn't told anyone except his dear friend Talia.
'You were a thief? In a city?' Wintermoon seemed more intrigued than anything else. 'I should like to hear of this one day. I have never seen a city.'
'You haven't missed much,' he replied. 'Cities aren't all that impressive.
And I'd give a lot to have a brother.' Once again, the Tayledras dropped his eyes. All of Wintermoon's apparent attention was again on his half of dinner. 'At least I do have Darkwind, that is true. I am actually glad that I am so much older than he; if I had been younger, I would have hated him for stealing Starblade's love and care. But I was old enough to know that what occurred was no one's fault, that without magic, I would never represent anything but failure to Starblade, and that Darkwind was no more to be blamed for that than the magic itself, which declined to manifest in me. Still, I stay away a great deal. It is very easy to find myself envying him, and envy oft turns darker.' He sighed, as Skif nodded. He stared into the fire for a moment and continued. 'I think I will never have other than mixed feelings for Darkwind.
I do love him. When he was very young, it was easy to love him, for his disposition was sunny, and his mother treated us both as if we were sons of her body. Even as he came into his power, he was not prideful-he rather delighted in the learning, in finding what could be done-in showing it to me, like any young man with a new accomplishment.
Magic was like a huge and complex puzzle to him. But at the same time, there was always the envy... '
'I don't see how you could have gotten away from it,' Skif put in quietly, hoping he wasn't going to break Wintermoon's mood by speaking.
This was instructive; it gave him an idea of how some of the more complex situations in the Clan had evolved.
' Ah, but I am also jealous,' Wintermoon said with a lightness that did not in the least deceive Skif. 'Darkwind has so many things come easily to his hand, from his bondbird to his magic. Things that I must struggle to achieve, and often have not even a hope of having. Women, for instance. If you have gotten the impression that he could have any partner in the Vale that he chose, you are substantially correct. That is not the least because he was-or is-a powerful mage.' They sat in silence for a while as their dinner cooked, and ate in silence. Finally Wintermoon broke it. 'I think, perhaps,' he told Skif, slowly, 'that I have said too much. You must think badly of me. I do not ordinarily speak of such things even to friends; I cannot think why I did so now.'
Maybe because we're more alike than either of us guessed,' Skif replied. 'And, if you don't mind, I think I'd like to talk. There's been something bothering me for a long time, and I can't really talk about it to anyone-at home. They wouldn't understand.' He looked straight into Wintermoon's eyes. 'I think you might.' Maybe it was that Wintermoon was so strange-and yet so very like him. Maybe it had something to do with everything the entire Clan had just endured. Maybe it was just time. Skif didn't know, but when Wintermoon nodded, he drew a deep breath and began choosing the simple, painful words to tell the story of his failure.
'You know we are at war with a country to the east of us, right?' Wintermoon nodded.
'And I told you that I was a thief, once. Well, for a little while, I was working across the Border, because I'm used to doing things that are-outside a Herald's usual skills.' He paused for a moment, then continued, keeping his voice as expressionless as he could. 'I was supposed to be helping people escape across the Border, and I was working with a series of families that were providing places for escapees to hide as they fled across the country. I lived with one of those families. Hunters, the husband and wife both-he hunted game, she hunted herbs that won't grow in gardens. They had two children, an older boy and a little girl. They were-kind of the family I never had.' Wintermoon nodded knowingly. 'As Darkwind's mother played mother to me.'
'Exactly.' His stomach churned, and a cold lump formed in his throat. 'I never thought I'd like living out in the middle of nowhere-and I used to tease them about being backwards-but I kind of got to enjoy it. Then we got a message saying there was someone waiting at the next house in, waiting for me to guide him to the place on the Border. I went and fetched him-and damn if he wasn't just like me.
Same background, used to be a thief before he joined Ancar's army, all that.' I trusted him. I should have known better, I should have, but I liked him, I trusted him...'He had to stay a couple of days before it was safe to make the crossing.
We talked a lot.' He acted and reacted just like me, teased the kids, helped with the chores
but I should have known, I should have' Anyway, it was finally clear, and he went off. I thought he made the crossing. I left him, though, because I had to check back with the people he'd stayed with before, bring them some news and money. That was when I found out-'
'That they were no longer there,' Wintermoon interrupted. 'That the plausible fellow you had trusted was a traitor.'
'How did you know?' Skif's jaw dropped, and Wintermoon grimaced.
' Because I am older than you, by more than you know,' the Hawkbrother said, gently. 'I have seen a great deal. Remember who was the unwitting traitor in our midst. To be effective, one who would betray others must be likable and plausible-while all the time actually being something else entirely. He must be a supreme actor, projecting warmth and humanity, while having a cold, uncaring heart. Someone who was a criminal is likely to be all
