The Eagle And The Nightingales

She sighed and shook her head. 'If I were in your place_I have traveled the roads of several of the kingdoms, and seen some of the worst places in this one. I can see what I think are unpleasant trends that are only going to continue if the High King remains neglectful. I am prejudiced; the people most immediately affected are friends of mine, my own people, and the Free Bards. There are other people who will prosper if things go as I believe they will, and they would certainly not thank us for interfering.' She smiled a little. 'This is a long explanation for a short answer, so that you can see why I feel the way I do. In your place, having weighed all the options and outcomes, I would use the magic and see what happened. You may not come to the same conclusion. If you do not, I cannot and will not fault you for it.'

Silence hung between them for a long time. She broke it first.

'It may be that by using the magic this way, we are making ourselves into worse monsters than even the Church believes us to be. The next time we are tempted, we might not resist. And the time after that, for something purely selfish? We might be able to justify it to ourselves as easily as the King justifies his current neglect. That is the danger.'

He could see that. Oh, how easily he could see that! 'I understand,' he said very softly.

She rose. 'And I must go, to the legitimate uses of my magic,' she said, lightly, although he thought she was covering a heavy heart with her light tone. 'You know the way to the roof?'

'I do,' he replied, and then formed his beak into something like a human smile. 'But I have time enough to let you work some of that magic on me, before I go.'

He thought for a moment that he had startled her, but it might only have been a sudden shadow as she moved. In the next breath, she looked as serene as always.

'Well, then, shall we go down?' she asked. 'I should be happy to include you in the spell.'

'Perhaps one day, I shall ask you to weave a magic for me alone,' he said playfully, opening the door for her as she picked up her harp to carry it down the stairs.

Once again, that startled look came over her face, but this time, when she turned to look at him, her expression was not as serene. There was a shadow there, and a hint of speculation.

'Perhaps you shall,' was all she said. 'And_perhaps I shall oblige you.'

T'fyrr looked up from his reading as someone rapped on the door to the suite, but he did not rise to answer it. He knew better, now, after several sharp lectures from Nob about the propriety of the King's Chief Musician answering his own door. Nob answered the summons instead; he spoke briefly with someone there and came back to T'fyrr with a message in his hand.

'There's someone to see you, T'fyrr,' he said with a grin. 'That Deliambren who dresses like a tailor's worst nightmare.' He handed the small piece of paper to T'fyrr, who found it was simply a note from Harperus asking if he was free. 'Shall I tell the page to bring him up?'

'Certainly!' T'fyrr replied. 'Absolutely!' At the moment he couldn't think of anyone he wanted to see more.

Except Nightingale, perhaps_

He shook the thought away. The one person he dared not think about was Nightingale, not now, not with Harperus around. While she hadn't exactly sworn him to secrecy about her magic, she had certainly told him in no uncertain terms that she did not want the Deliambrens to know she was in the city. If he thought about Nightingale, he might let that fact slip.

And she would be justifiably angry with me.

It was a pity, since Harperus, for all his faults, was the one person he wished he could discuss this 'morality of magic' business with. But he couldn't do that without revealing who would actually be working the magic.

Well, I will just have to deal with this on my own.

It had occurred to him, more than once, that this just might be the chance he had hoped for, the act that would expiate his crime of murder. The only question was_which act would be his redemption? The act of using the magic? Or the act of not using the magic?

The choice was almost as difficult to deal with as the aftermath of the crime....

'T'fyrr!' Harperus exclaimed, breaking into T'fyrr's thoughts as Nob let him into the room. 'You're looking well!'

'Let us say, the High King does not stint his servants,' T'fyrr replied, rising to his feet and clasping Harperus'