“Blue’s pretty recognizable himself. That strange gray-white-black combination really does look like blue . . .”
“It won’t after he’s dyed black,” he said. “Any more than that pretty yellow horse of yours will look yellow when he’s been dyed brown and had his tail cropped short. Can you braid your hair really tightly and get it on top of your head under a cap? We need to find you some boy clothes, too, so we can travel as older and younger brothers. Meantime, I can saddle Blue and we can do some exercises out on the meadow at the south end of the abbey while I watch who goes and who comes.”
“And I?”
“Do you know all the location signs your father used for his birds?”
“Yes,” she replied. “He gave me a complete list of them.”
“Since it seems things here at the abbey aren’t as straightforward as we’d thought, it would be good to know who and what places the abbey stays in touch with. Ask to visit the loft keeper here. His name’s Solo Winger. Tell whoever you ask that you spent a lot of time in Justinian’s bird lofts and would like to see the abbey’s. I wrote down all the signs I could remember from Woldsgard,” he said, and dug a bit of paper out of a pocket.
“If you’re wondering, I already know Merhaven is on my list.”
“Good enough, but we still need to find out if Winger has birds from anyplace that Woldsgard doesn’t.” He sat back for a moment, thinking. “Even if Bear left here and a message came from him saying the way to Merhaven was safe, we couldn’t rely on that information. We would need to make our own inquiry of Merhaven.”
“How would we get an answer if we were on the way?”
“That’s why I want to find out what birds they have here. If they have birds from someplace between here and Merhaven, we could take a Merhaven bird with us and ask them to reply to the in-between place. If there is one.”
Xulai said fretfully, “There are so many puzzles.”
“Quite a few,” he said, ticking them off on his fingers. “There’s the waters rising, the Sea King, the enmity of the duchess and probably the prior, the unknown status of the abbot, the inimical posture of King Gahls, the oddities of the refugees upon the long road to the highlands, the status of Benjobz and his expanding stables, and how in the devil did the duchess get to Benjobz and her consort get here to the abbey the same time as we did?”
“Without being seen on the road. All this is my fault,” she whispered. “I’ve got you all involved in this mess . . .”
“Oh, Xulai! Nonsense. You’d have to be three times your age to have caused half that many snarls! My whole life has been full of puzzles! They were puzzles just as convoluted as these, and many of them happened back at a time when I was barely conscious of them. Somehow, I survived, and we will survive this time as well. Meantime, ask questions, casually. Someone must know why all these houses are vacant. See what you can learn from the bird man. And . . . do you suppose that librarian—what did you say his name was?”
“Wordswell.”
“Do you suppose he knows anything about the Sea King? Like who or what or where he is? Like who or what constitutes his armies? Little details like that?”
It was already late, but Xulai had gained the impression that Wordswell spent most of his nights at the library, so she asked for a guide to take her there. On the way, they encountered the prior, who stopped them.
“It is late to be wandering, Daughter.” His tone was admonitory.
“I have an errand at the library, Elder Brother. Also, do I need someone’s permission to visit the bird lofts? The duke mentioned that you have fine ones and that I should see them while I am here.”
He raised one nostril in slight distaste. “Ah, I can’t imagine why. The man who keeps the birds, a creature named Winger, is a simpleton. Certainly he is illiterate, so you are unlikely to get sensible information from him. However, if your guardian has recommended it to you, there is no reason why not. By all means, go when you like.”
He nodded magisterially and went off down the corridor, while Xulai and her guide continued to the library. “He doesn’t think much of the bird keeper,” remarked Xulai.
“Nor of anyone who gets their hands dirty,” said the guide. “Prior, he’s a very superior kind of man. Got all that gold on him so we all know it.” And his left eye flickered in what might actually have been a wink.
Once at the library, she sent the guide to tell Precious Wind where she was and that she would be back shortly. Wordswell was indeed among the stacks, high among the towering shelves, perched on a ladder, a book propped half-open before him.
Xulai called, “Don’t come down, Elder Brother. But would you direct me to whatever books might tell me something about the Sea King?”
He ignored her suggestion that he stay where he was and clambered down as though he had spent all his life climbing things, trees to begin with, no doubt, followed by anything vertical that was of interest.
“I can tell you more quickly than the books can,” he said in a half whisper, throwing a quick look around the vast room to see if anyone else was there. “I wouldn’t, ordinarily, but I sometimes get these feelings about passing on information. A kind of itch; one that says, ‘Tell this person about X,’ or ‘Tell this person about Z because he needs to know.’ I felt very strongly the other night that you needed to know about the Sea King, so I’ve been burrowing.”
“That was very kind of you.”
“Well, it may have been. Or it may prove
