A Wizard's Wings Read Online Free PDF Page A

the branch whipped upward, hurling them high into the air.
    “Whee-hee-heeee,” cried Rhia, spreading her arms and legs wide. Before she even started to descend, an oak branch, completely bare of leaves, reached out to catch her. That branch cradled her momentarily, carried her higher, then pitched her across the canopy to the waiting boughs of a cedar. Spraying cones in all directions, the cedar tossed her affectionately several times before finally flinging her onward. Seconds later, Rhia’s cries of delight had faded into the whispering and clacking of the trees around us.
    Watching her disappear, I smiled. “She is part eagle, part tree.”
    “Yes,” agreed Hallia. “And she loves you as much as she loves this forest.”
    “What makes you say that?”
    She merely bent down to gather a few sap-dusted cones in her hands. Bringing them to her face, she inhaled deeply. After a moment, she offered them to me. Like her, I savored their aromas, so fresh and full.
    “Because Rhia knows,” she said softly, “that for us, a little time alone is the best gift of all.”

3: R ASPBERRY S YRUP
    Before we reached the edge of the forest, the smell of Rhia’s cooking fire reached us. Wrapping around Hallia and me like a long scarf, the savory smoke drew us out of the intertwining boughs and into a grassy clearing. A small but steep hill lifted above us, crowned with the great flat boulder that was my stargazing stone. From atop the stone, smoke curled upward, branching out like a wispy tree before merging with the twilight sky.
    We paused in the knee-high grasses, a few more seconds with only ourselves. She watched me as I watched her, the two of us breathing in unison. I reached over and stroked her chin with my finger. Shyly, she turned away, though not completely. Leaning closer, I turned her face back toward mine, and gently kissed her on the lips.
    “He knew,” she whispered. “My brother, Eremon, knew. Do you remember what he said before he left us for the Otherworld of the spirits?”
    I nodded. “That a day would come when you would be happy again.”
    She swallowed, and brushed the moistness from her cheek. “When I would overflow with joy, he said, as the river in spring overflows with water .” After a long pause, she said quietly, “I can’t imagine living without you, young hawk.”
    “Nor I without you, Eo-Lahallia.” I cleared my throat. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to give you. I planned to do it tonight, under the stars, but I’d rather give it to you now, while we’re still alone.”
    “What more could you give me?”
    “This.” Without looking away, I reached into my leather satchel. Slowly, I drew out my psaltery string, bent and blackened. “It’s for you.”
    Her doe’s eyes blinked. Slowly, a smile spread across her face. I knew she was remembering how this very string had once saved our lives—as well as the life of her friend, the dragon Gwynnia.
    “For me?” she asked.
    “For you.” I placed the string in her hand. Despite its charred exterior, it bent with surprising suppleness, curling easily inside her palm.
    She swallowed. “I shall never look at this without thinking of how much your power has grown.”
    Softly, I replied, “Even as something else has grown.”
    “Do you remember the old riddle? About the origins of music—and magic?”
    I studied her open hand, and the precious item that it held. “How could I not? So where, indeed, does the source of music lie ?”
    She nodded, then completed the passage: “ Is it in the strings themselves? Or in the hand that plucks them ?”
    I placed my hand over hers, covering the gift. “It lies in both places, but in your hand most of all.”
    “No,” she replied. “The greater music lies in the place where both our hands are touching.”
    I could only smile.
    In time, our hands released. With care, she started to place the precious item into the pocket of her purple robe.
    I caught her arm. “Wait. I have a