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unusual situation, the conventional procedure must be observed. Once we’ve dispensed with the formalities, we can proceed with your training as fast as you want to go. But this is where you belong, Menolly, you and your singing fire lizards. Bless me but that was lovely to hear this morning. Ah, Silvina, good morning and to you, as well, Master Oldive …’
    Menolly knew it was impolite to stare at anyone and looked away as soon as she realized that she was staring, but Master Oldive required a long look. He was shorter than herself but only because his head was awry on his neck. His great lean face tilted up from its permanent slant, and she had the impression of enormous dark eyes under very shaggy brows taking in every detail of herself.
    ‘I’m sorry, Master Robinton, have we interrupted you?’ Silvina paused on the threshold indecisively.
    ‘Yes, and no. I don’t think I’ve convinced Menolly but that will take time. Meanwhile, we’ll get on with the basics. We’ll speak again, Menolly,’ said the Harper. ‘Go along with Master Oldive now. Let him do his best, or his worst, for you. She must play again, Oldive.’ The Harper’s smile as he gestured to Menolly to follow the man implied complete faith in his ability. ‘And Silvina, Menolly says the egg’s safe enough for four or five days, but you’ll please arrange to have someone—’
    ‘Why not Sebell? He’s got his egg to check, too, doesn’t he? And with Menolly here in the Hall …’ Silvina was saying as Master Oldive, ushering Menolly out of the room before him, closed the door.
    ‘I’m to see to your feet as well, Silvina tells me,’ was the man’s comment as he indicated Menolly should lead the way to her room. The Master’s voice was unexpectedly deep. And while he might be shorter than herself in the torso, he’d as long a leg and arm and matched her stride down the corridor. As he pushed wider her door, she realized that his stature was due to a terrible malformation of his spine.
    ‘By my life!’ Oldive exclaimed, stopping abruptly as Menolly preceded him into the room. ‘I thought for a moment you were as blighted as myself. It is a fire lizard on your shoulder, isn’t it?’ He chuckled. ‘Now, there’s one on me, so it is. Is the creature friendly?’ He peered up at Beauty, who chirruped pleasantly back, since Oldive was patently addressing her. ‘As long as I’m friendly to your Menolly, I take it? You’ll have to write another verse to your fire lizard song, proving the rewards of kindness,’ he added, gesturing her to sit on the window side of the bed as he pulled up the stool.
    ‘Oh, that’s not my song …’ she said, removing her slippers.
    Master Oldive frowned. ‘Not your song? But Master Robinton assigns it to you – constantly.’
    ‘He rewrote it … he told me so.’
    ‘That’s not unusual,’ and Master Oldive dismissed her protest. ‘Proper mess you made of your feet,’ he said, his voice taking on a distant, thoughtful quality as he looked at first one, then the other foot. ‘Running, I believe …’
    Menolly felt reproved. ‘I was caught out during Threadfall, you see, far from my cave and had to run … oooh!’
    ‘Sorry, did I hurt? The flesh is very tender. And will remain that way awhile longer.’
    He began to smooth on a pungent-smelling substance, and she couldn’t keep her foot still. He grabbed her ankle firmly to complete the medication, countering her embarrassed apology by remarking that her twitching proved that she’d done the nerves no harm with the pounding she’d given her feet.
    ‘You’re to keep off them as much as possible. I’ll tell Silvina so. And use this salve morning and night. Aids healing and keeps the skin from itching.’ He replaced Menolly’s slippers. ‘Now, this hand of yours.’
    She hesitated, knowing that his opinion of the bungled wound was likely to echo Manora’s and Silvina’s. Perversely she was afflicted by an obscure loyalty to her