- Prologue

doubt.'

The klaxon sounded tinny through the ship's outside ears.

'Now,' Win Ton said, and engaged lift.

By the time they'd set down at the field by Howsenda Hugglelans, with Theo riding comm, her head felt like it was in . . . some other place; like it wasn't directly attached to the rest of her body. She'd followed the board lights, listening to Win Ton's soft-voiced explanation of what he was doing, interrupting only once, with a question.

'How do I get to do this?'

'This? Become a Scout?'

'No—fly this.'

'Ah!' He'd laughed, softly. 'Much less difficult! Courier pilots need only be first class, with a demonstrated willingness to fly like a lunatic on any occasion.' Her attention on the board, she'd felt, rather than seen him grin at her. 'You would do well, I think.'

'I think so, too,' she'd answered, and lapsed again into rapt silence.

Hull cool, they exited Torvin.

Win Ton offered an arm and she leaned on that, grateful for the support as they approached the desk.

A familiar-looking man in a sleeveless vest met them, with a grin and a nod to Theo.

'You return!' said the waiter who wore too much vya. 'And this time, you have forgotten your aunt! Very good, Pilot. A terrace table for you and your . . . friend?'

'Yes,' Theo said, straightening, but keeping a firm grip on Win Ton's arm. 'Please.'

They followed him up the ramps and let him seat them together on a cushioned bench by a secluded table overlooking the field. Win Ton laughed softly as they were momentarily left alone.

'You are known everywhere, Theo Waitley! And rightly admired.'

She shook her head at him. 'I was here a while ago with Pilot yos'Senchul and Veradantha. Happens we had the same server—luck, is all.'

'Indeed,' Win Ton said with a grin. 'Luck.' He leaned forward and touched her hand. 'Now that the fascination of lift has evaporated, tell me of yourself.'

'There's not much to tell,' she protested, 'outside of what I've been writing to you.'

'Ah. Then tell me this: Why does Admin Frosher claim you for an attitude problem?'

'Oh, that,' Theo said, as their server came back with the requested tea.

'Service, Pilots?'

'Today's special,' Theo and Win Ton said simultaneously—and laughed in the same heartbeat.

Their server smiled. 'Today's special, it is. A moment while I gather what is needful.'

'Now,' Win Ton said, 'tell me.'

So, over tea and befores, she told him. Win Ton was a good listener, asking questions only when she'd gotten off track; willing to wait while she sorted out her narrative. When she got to the part about Wilsmyth jigging her flight time he said something sharp in what she guessed was Liaden, though it wasn't in the lexicon she was laboriously sleep-learning, with Veradantha's permission.

'Where did he strike you?' he asked.

Theo raised her hand to her head. 'It's healed now.'

'Let me see, if I may?' He smoothed her hair back from the place; she shivered at the touch of his fingers, even as she leaned into it.

'So soft, like sea mist . . .' His breath was warm against her temple; his lips were gentle against the place where the cut had been.

Theo closed her eyes, feeling a not-entirely-unpleasant roiling in her stomach.

'Yes,' Win Ton murmured. 'It has healed without a scar.' He kissed the place again, and Theo reached—

'Will it please you to have dinner now, Pilots?' their server asked, amusement lacing his voice.

Win Ton eased back and considered him before looking to Theo. 'Pilot?'

She sighed, and met the server's interested gaze. 'Yes,' she said levelly. 'Dinner would be most welcome.'

'So,' she ventured, after they had been served. 'Now that you've heard my boring news, don't I get to hear yours?'

'That would appear to be a fair trade,' Win Ton agreed slowly, and from the depths of an apparent minute study of the table's centerpiece. His shoulders rose as if he had taken an especially deep breath, and he raised his head, meeting her eyes with a startling degree of seriousness.

'Alas,' he said, and she could hear him making the effort to keep his voice light, as if he were telling a joke. 'My news is even more tedious than your own.' He extended his hand to touch hers where it lay on the table next to her teacup.

She didn't look down, but met his eyes, and tried to keep her voice light, too.

'A star pilot trumped by a student's tales out of school? Hard to believe.'

He laughed, low in his throat. 'Yes, but what could be more tedious than to learn that one's clan has finally found a use for one?'