"Varia."

"Let me see if I can guess what's happened," the bird said. "You're a Sister, a young girl who's run away from the Cloister. Right? I've heard of such. And your Dynast will have set a tracker after you."

Varia stared.

"You're speechless; obviously I'm right."

"Not entirely. I'm-somewhat more in the Dynast's attention than a young girl would be. I'm forty-three, not some sixteen-year-old to be brought back for correction and counseling. I escaped a-a punishment house, and this time they might kill me."

It seemed to Varia that if the bird had had eyebrows, they'd have arched at that. His aura suggested that he didn't quite believe her. She didn't herself. They'd degrade her, perhaps break her will, even her mind, but they wouldn't deliberately kill her.

"Hmh!" the bird said. "I wish you well in your escape, and I certainly won't betray you." It chuckled. "I've been told that among humans, a gentleman never tells a lady's secrets." Pausing, he cocked his head. "I do have that right, don't I? Who might your tracker be, do you suppose?"

"A man named Tomm."

"Tomm. Tomm is known to us. In fact I know him on sight. We all do I suppose; what one of us knows, the others know, or can if we care to look. It's how, over the centuries, we've learned your language. By sharing, word by word, phrase by phrase."

Varia stared.

"But I must tell you," he went on, "that my silence won't help you much. Tomm has a talent that apparently you're not aware of. No doubt his most important talent. You see, he can question any creature, large or small, about you. Mostly birds, because we see more, and our perceptions are very largely visual, as humans' seem to be. He may not gain much detail from his questions, for the minds of most species handle only simple concepts. But the question, 'have you seen this one?' accompanied by a mental image…" Everheart physically shrugged. "The eagles and greater hawks are no more susceptible to his demands than I, for their own reasons, of course, while the vultures and goshawks and falcons?-I doubt they'd hear his thought. They are totally focused on their own affairs.

"Crows, now-crows he may or may not ask. They lie, inveterately. But if he can recognize when they lie and when they do not… Some of your Sisterhood can do that, I'm told. And crows can be bribed, if he has something they might covet. Some shiny gew-gaw. Or a piece of fat; they are fond of fat. Beyond crows, there are many susceptible species too unimaginative to lie: sparrows, bluebirds, thrushes, waxwings… And jays, the tattlers of the forest! Very definitely jays!"

The great bird paused to threaten a rival. The lesser raven drew back too slowly, and there was a moment's squawking before it rose on flapping wings, to circle in rumpled dignity. Then Everheart looked at Varia again. "He won't tell either. His species is proud, like my own, and the eagles and greater hawks. And stubborn, as you've just seen.

"Meanwhile I recommend that you keep to the deeper woods, where you'll be hard to see from the air. Avoid meadows and open ridges. And jays so far as possible, for they tell everything. Now if you'll excuse me."

He began to peck and tear again at the troll-mangled flesh of poor Maude's ribs. Varia watched for just a moment, then turned and hiked off into the forest, stepping carefully with her bare feet.

Hiking barefoot went better than she'd expected; in avoiding areas where the forest roof was open, she also avoided the stonier places. Now she held northward more than westward. Occasionally, unavoidably, she roused a jay, but they seemed so territorial, she decided the odds were small that Tomm would run into one of these particular jays. Crows, on the other hand, flew widely, but hopefully wouldn't see her in heavy woods.

That day she ate the last of her bread and cheese, and later stepped hard on a sharp stone, earning a bruise on her right heel. She slept hungry that night beneath another hemlock. And in a dream, Curtis Macurdy found her, and held her in his arms.

In the morning she spelled a grouse to her hand, and after begging its pardon, wrung its neck. She considered eating it raw, but couldn't bring herself to. Instead she broke dead branches, lit them with a pass of her hand, and half roasted the bird. She ate most of it on the spot-there was little more to it than breast-and stashed the greasy remains in her shift. She also took time to heal her bruised foot sufficiently for swift walking. Then she hiked again.

Toward midday she became aware of magic about her, a spell of invisibility, and saw through it to the source. In the fire-hollowed base of a great-boled golden birch stood a tiny, furry man, a tomttu. She'd seen one in a cage once, when she was a girl traveling with an embassy. This one was larger, perhaps thirty inches tall. Their eyes met, and after a long moment it was the tomttu who broke the silence.

"Good mornin' to you. I didn't realize it was a Sister comin' up the trail, or I wouldn't have cast my spell. I'd but to crawl up my hollow here, and you'd never have seen me." He shook his head. "Betrayed by my own magic! Embarrassin'!" Doffing a non-existent cap, he bowed. "I'm called Elsir."

"Do you live here?"

"Here? My no! 'tis but a place to shelter on the way. I travel, you see, short though my legs are. Like more than a few of us, I've a wanderlust." He paused, cocking his head as Everheart had. "And what are you doin' out here alone, girl? With the hair on your head no more than a copper-red cap. A runaway, I don't doubt. Your people will be worried."

She looked at him and saw a chance for help. "I'm not a girl," she said. "I'm a married woman, stolen from my husband and returning to him. Do you ever cast spells to mislead?"

He laughed. "Perhaps a small one now and then. To lead the troll away when he's near, or the great cats."

"And what of men? I've heard they sometimes capture you for sport, or steal a girl from you."

He scowled. "You're ill-advised to speak of such things to me, if it's favors you want."

"I didn't say it to offend. And as for being stolen and misused by men, I know more than you about that. Can you cast a spell to throw someone off my trail? Something beyond a net of confusion?"

He stared at her for an endless minute, gnawing his lip. Finally he spoke. "You're a Sister, are you not? Who is it you'd have me mislead?"

"A tracker named Tomm."

"I know of him by reputation. It wouldn't work."

"Could you cast a spell that would hide me from birds?"

Again he stared a long moment before he spoke. "Ah! The birds. Yes, I could that." Varia stood unbreathing, while Elsir squatted, thinking, frowning. "But I won't," he said at last. "I dare not meddle in affairs of the Sisters." Then, reading the depth of disappointment in her face, and the underlying desperation, he added: "We're a careful folk, bein' small as we are. And if Tomm sensed my spell, he'd know by its nature that it was one of us cast it. Your Dynast would hear of it then, and she's a vengeful woman."

Varia bowed her head. "Thank you for considering it. Is there any advice you can give me?"

The small man shook his head. "Only to hurry. Travel as fast as you can. The pass north of here is called Laurel Notch; take it and you'll be in the drainage of the Tuliptree River, the East Fork, which is only a brook at first. It will lead you north into the Kingdom of Indrossa. They might hide you there, or send you on and interfere with the tracker. It's possible."

Varia began to walk on then, and he called after her. "I'm sorry, girl. But if I cannot give you a spell, I give you my best wish that you escape them. And the wishes of a tomttu are not without force."

She paused to look back at him. "Thank you," she said softly, then trotted northward on the same trail she'd been following.