Mercedes Lackey - Anthology by Flights of Fantasy

them to break."
                 Lines
crossed Parr's face. He was anxious dealing with sorcery, as many are.
                 It
was a prejudice my father suffered often in his life. Sorcery is wild and
confusing to people who do not understand it. It is powerful beyond their
ability to comprehend.
                 "I
will go to Ellingsworth with you," I said. "Assuming the price is
acceptable."
                 "Princess
Terisa is the king's only daughter,"
                 Parr
said angrily. "The queen died years ago. Rest assured he'll pay you more
than you're worth."
                 I
snorted, surprised at the man's bluntness. "Fair enough. I'll travel with you. But let me tell you I don't take kindly to such pointed
comments, and you can rest assured that an upset sorcerer will cost your king
more than a comfortable one will."
                 Wheeling
in the sky, Kiva called and swooped down. I held out my arm, and she landed
lightly on it.
                 "We
are going on a trip, Kiva."
                 The
men looked at her, obviously distrustful of the bird and uncertain of its tie
to me.
                 "Tell
the others," I said, motioning her to the sky once again.
                 She
took to the air then, calling loudly with high-pitched screams. The rest of the
hawks flew around her, responding and gliding out over the prairie that
stretched away from the rolling ocean.
                 The
men remained quiet, but I could see the display had done nothing to reduce my
stature in their eyes.
                 My
father had taught me well.
                 I
offered to put the men up overnight in Castle Talon, but they decided to make a
campground in the hills to the east, explaining that they had not been near the
ocean before and wanted to be in the open while they were here.
                 I
smiled and pretended to accept their words, all the while sensing their
anxiety.
                 So
I slept alone in the castle, the physical separation of the men from
Ellingsworth speaking volumes, telling me that I was not like them, that I was
dangerous.
                 I
suppose I could not help but dream about my father. As the night passed around
me, I asked him questions that he would not answer. I requested advice he would
not give. Despite these rebuffs, or perhaps because of them, the conversation
felt warm and familiar. His voice rumbled, and his breathing rasped nasally
like it always had. When the beam of his concentration would fall fully on me,
he was gentle and easy to talk to, a natural teacher with a calm demeanor and a
lighthearted approach.
                 I
woke fresh and oddly confident, feeling close to my father, a sensation that
fought with my ingrained fears and doubts to make a mixture of emotions that
was not completely pleasurable.
                 By
the time we left, Kiva had placed three more bones on my windowsill—one a round
vertebra the size of a pea, one the curved needle of a
rib cage, and the last a small pelvic segment. I placed each into my pouch,
still no farther along in puzzling out why she was leaving them.
                 But
my collection had now grown to a firm handful.
                 The
city was large and sprawling. It smelled of baked bread and fried meats.
                 Buildings
of white stone and yellowed brick towered over the landscape. A large river ran
past to the east, glittering with the silver-gold reflection of the setting sun
as we entered the main gates. Men pulled carts through rutted streets. Women
carried ceramic bowls and woven baskets on their shoulders. I caught a whiff of
cinnamon, and my stomach growled.
                 Parr
had no time for my hunger, however, and directed us toward the king's castle.
                 This
was the city my father had