Flux

burden these people too long. Do you expect you’ll be able to travel by morning?”
    Now Miner did look up and he frowned. “You’re still recovering—”
    “I needed rest. When I use magic it’s as if it drains my…my life force. I don’t know what else to call it. And then it takes time for the life force to come back, like a fire slowly growing from a spark to roaring flames.”
    “If you push it too far, if you do too much, that spark will go out.”
    Ennek looked away angrily. “Well, it didn’t. And with a few more meals and a good night’s sleep I’ll be fine.”
    Miner knew arguing would be useless. He also didn’t want to raise the subject of where they would be going. So he simply nodded a bit and put a morsel of food in his mouth.
    After a moment, and in a much softer voice, Ennek said, “May I fetch you some tea?”
    “Yes. Please.”
    Ennek took away his bowl and brought him a green cup full of tea, and then he wandered off again to have some sort of discussion with Hai-Shui and Luli. Miner remained on the bench. A small, black bird fluttered over the courtyard wall and alit on the tree. It had a long forked tail and shiny brown eyes, which were focused on Miner. It opened its thick beak and sang, a sort of raspy, trilling call that wasn’t unpleasant. Then it stopped and looked at him as if it expected him to answer.
    “I haven’t forgotten,” he said out loud. “We’re still recovering.”
    The bird warbled again and glided off the tree and onto the edge of the big pot beside him. It tilted its head, fixing one beady eye on him.
    “I know . I gave you my word.” He sighed. “We’ll leave in the morning.”
    The bird croaked at him and then flapped away. A moment later, Luli’s daughter—her name was Yuening—appeared from behind him. She sat on the bench beside him and pointed in the direction the bird had gone. “Bhujanga,” she said. And she made a complicated series of gestures that he took to mean that the Bhujanga was a good bird, welcome in the fields for eating insects.
    Yuening had brought out two bowls, one of which was full of dried yellow flowers and the other was empty. He watched as she picked up an individual flower, carefully removed the petals and placed them in the empty bowl, and then tossed the rest of the flower aside. He set down his empty teacup and joined her in the task. It was a bit awkward with his broken wrist but he managed. She hummed quietly as she worked and the tune was strange to his ears but peaceful. The children ran in and out of the courtyard, giving Miner shy looks and babbling happily at Yuening. Once the little boy was dragged over by his sister, sobbing over a scraped knee, and Yuening clucked with sympathy and gave the damaged limb a kiss, then sent him on his way. The kitten ran about as well, pouncing on twigs and chasing after butterflies, until it curled into a tiny ball in a patch of sunshine and went to sleep.
    Miner’s heart ached with yearning for this life. He could settle here, he thought. Learn the language. Find a plot of land and learn to work it. Build a little house for Ennek and him, one with a window that looked out at the green hills to the west.
    But there was his promise to the bird-wizard and the blasted collar. And besides, he wasn’t at all certain that Ennek would be happy with such a pastoral existence. The man had spent his life in a great city, and he’d piloted his little catboats around the bay when he needed an escape. He was a Chief’s son and a powerful wizard. How could he be content with digging in the dirt, chasing after chickens?
    Miner must have sighed loudly because Yuening patted his shoulder and gave him a sweet smile. He tried very hard to smile back.
    Dinner that evening was a lively affair. Everyone gathered in the courtyard—Luli and Hai-Shui and Yuening and the children, as well as a dozen or so other people whose names Miner couldn’t keep track of and who stared at Miner and then smiled indulgently at him, as if he were a slow child. Lanterns were lit. A constant parade of food was brought out. Miner hadn’t any idea what he was eating most of the time, but it was all delicious. There were even tiny cups of some kind of wine.
    As everyone ate, Ennek spoke. Mostly in his stumbling version of the local tongue, although he’d stop now and then to provide a quick translation for Miner. He was telling stories about Praesidium. Nothing personal, but tales of everyday life that must