way； which was no more than a simple carved frame wound round with trailing roses。 Aditu had already stepped through； and now Jiriki led Simon in。
If the effect of the butterflies from outside was one of gleaming magnifi… cence； the view from within was entirely different。 The multicolored shafts of light leaked down through the living roof； as if through stained glass that had somehow bee unstable。 The great ash tree that was the Yasira's spine stood bathed in a thousand shifting hues； Simon was again reminded of some strange forest thriving beneath the inconstant ocean。 This time； however； he was beginning to find the thought a little much to bear。 He felt almost as though he were drowning； floundering helplessly in an opulence he could not entirely understand。
The great chamber had few furnishings。 Beautiful rugs lay scattered everywhere； but in many places the grass grew uncovered。 Shallow pools gleamed here and there； flowering bushes and stones around them； all things just as they were outside。 The only differences were the butterflies and the Sithi。
The chamber was full of Sithi…folk； male and female； in costumes as variegated as the wings of the butterflies that quivered overhead。 One by one at first； then in clusters； they turned to look at the new arrivals； hundreds of calm； catlike eyes agleam in the shifting light。 What seemed to Simon a quiet but malicious hiss rose from the multitude。 He wanted to run away； and actually made a brief； stumbling attempt； but Jiriki's grip on his arm was gently unbreakable。 He found himself led forward to a rise of earth before the base of the tree。 A tall； moss…netted stone stood there like an admonishing finger sunken in the grassy ground。 On low couches before it sat two Sithi dressed in splendid pale robes； a woman and a man。
The man； who was seated closest； looked up at Simon and Jiriki's approach。 His hair； tied high atop his head； was jet black； and he wore a crown of carved white birchwood。 He had the same angular golden features as Jiriki； but there was something drawn at the corners of his narrow eyes and thin mouth that suggested a life of great length filled with vast but subtle disappointment。 The woman who sat beside him on his left hand had hair of a deep； coppery red； she； too； wore a circlet of birchwood on her brow。 Long white feathers hung from her many braids； and she wore several bracelets and rings as black and shiny as the hair of the man beside her。 Of all the Sithi Simon had seen； her face was the most immobile； the most rigidly serene。 Both man and woman had an air of age and subtlety and stillness； but it was the quiet of a dark old pond in a shadowed wood； the calm of a sky tilted with motionless thunderclouds； it seemed entirely possible that such placidity might hide something dangerous…dangerous to callow mortals； at least。
〃You must bow； San；〃 Jiriki said quietly。 Simon； as much because of his shaking legs as anything else； lowered himself to his knees。 The smell of the warm turf was strong in his nostrils。
〃Seoman Snowlock； manchild；〃 Jiriki said loudly； 〃know you are e before Shima'onari； King of the Zida'ya； Lord of Jao e…Tinukai'i； and Likimeya； Queen of the Dawn…Children； Lady of the House of Year… Dancing。〃
Still kneeling； Simon looked up dizzily。 All eyes were focused on him； as though he were a singularly inappropriate gift。 Shima'onari at last said something to Jiriki； words as harsh…sounding as anything Simon had yet heard the Sithi tongue produce。
〃No； Father；〃 Jiriki said。 〃Whatever else； we must not so lightly turn our backs on our traditions。 A guest is a guest。 I beg you； speak words that Seoman can understand。〃
Shima'onari's thin face pinched in a frown。 When he spoke at last； he proved far less facile with the Westerling tongue than his son and daughter。
〃So。 You are the manchild that saved Jiriki's life。〃 He nodded his head slowly； but did not seem very pleased。 〃I do not know if you can understand this； but my son has done a very bad thing。 He has brought you here against all laws of our people…you； a mortal。〃 He straightened up； looking from face to face among the Sithi…folk that surrounded them。 〃What is done is done； my people； my family；〃 he called。 〃No harm can e to this manchild： we have not sunk so far。 We owe him honor as Hikka Staja…as bearer of a White Arrow。〃 He turned back to Simon； and a look of infinite sadness crept over his face。 〃But neither can you leave； manchild。 We cannot let you leave。 So you will stay forever。 You will grow old and die with us； here in Jao e…Tinukai'i。〃
The wings of a million butterflies murmured and whispered。
〃Stay。。。？〃 Simon turned； unprehending； to Jiriki。 The prince's usually imperturbable face was an ashen mask of shock and sorrow。
Simon was silent as they walked back to Jiriki's house。 Afternoon was slowly fading into twilight； the cooling valley was alive with the smells and sounds of untainted summer。
The Sitha did nothing to break the silence； guiding Simon along the tangled paths with nods and gentle touches。 As they approached the river that ran past Jiriki's door； Sithi voices lifted in song somewhere in the overhanging hills。 The melody that spilled echoing over the valley was an intricately constructed series of descending figures： sweet； but with a touch of dissonance winding through it； like a fox dodging in and out among rainy hedgerows。 There was something unquestionably liquid about the song； after a moment； Simon realized that the invisible musi… cians were in some way singing along with the noise of the river itself。
A flute joined in； ruffling the surface of the music like wind on the watercourse。 Simon was abruptly and painfully struck by the strangeness of this place； loneliness welled within him； an aching emptiness that could not be filled by Jiriki or any of his alien kind。 For all its beauty； Jao e…Tinukai'i was no better than a cage。 Caged animals； Simon knew； languished and soon died。
〃What will I do？〃 he said hopelessly。
Jiriki stared at the glinting river； smiling sadly。 〃Walk。 Think。 Learn how to play shent。 In Jao e…Tinukai'i； there are many ways to pass time。〃
As they walked toward Jiriki's door the water…song cascaded down from the tree…mantled hillside； surrounding them with mournful music that seemed ever…changing but unhurried； patient as the river itself。
23
Deep Waters
BY ELYSIA the Mother；〃 Aspitis Preves said； 〃what a terrible time you have had of it； Lady Marya！〃 The earl lifted his cup to drink but found it empty。 He tapped his fingers on the cloth as his pale squire hurried forward to pour more wine。 〃To think that the daughter of a nobleman should be so ill…treated in our city。〃
The trio sat around the earl's circular table as the remains of a more than adequate supper were cleared away by a page。 Flickering lamplight threw distorted shadows on the walls； outside； the wind sawed in the rigging。 Two of the earl's hounds brawled over a bone beneath the table。
〃Your Lordship is too kind。〃 Miriamele shook her head。 〃My father's barony is very small； just a freeholding； really。 One of the smallest baronies in Cellodshire。〃
〃Ah； then your father must know Godwig？〃 Aspitis' Westerling was a little difficult to understand； and not only because it was his second tongue： the goblet in his hand had been drained and filled several times。
〃Of course。 He is the most powerful of all the barons there…the king's strong hand in Cellodshire。〃 Thinking of the despicable； braying Godwig； Miriamele found it hard to keep her expression pleasant； even while looking on the goldenly handsome Aspitis。 She darted a glance at Cadrach； who was sunk in some dark mood； his brow furrowed like a thunderhead。
He thinks I'm saying too much； Miriamele decided。 She felt a flash of anger。 But who is he to make faces？ He got us into this trap； now； thanks to me； instead of us going over the side as kilpafood； we're at the master's table drinking wine and eating good Lakeland cheese。
〃But I am still astonished by your ill fortune； Lady；〃 Aspitis said。 〃I had heard that these Fire Dancers were a problem in the provinces； and I have seen a few