could not in conscience command him. "You have a true gift, Essiri," he said, using the name he had given the boy in the springs of the Amia, a word that inthe Old Speech means Willow. "I don't entirely understand it. I think youdon't understand it at all. Take care! To misuse a gift, or to refuse to useit, may cause great loss, great harm." Diamond nodded, suffering, contrite, unrebellious, unmovable. "Go on," the wizard said, and he went. Later he knew he should never have let the boy leave the house. He had underestimatedDiamond's willpower, or the strength of the spell the girl had laid on him. Their conversation was in the morning; Hemlock went back to the ancientcantrip he was annotating; it was not till supper time that he thought abouthis pupil, and not until he had eaten supper alone that he admittedthat Diamond had run away. Hemlock was 10th to practice any of the lesserarts of magic. He did not put out a finding spell, as any sorcerer might havedone. Nor did he call to Diamond in any way. He was angry; perhaps he washurt. He had thought well of the boy, and offered to write the Summoner abouthim, and then at the first test of character Diamond had broken. "Glass," thewizard muttered. At least this weakness proved he was not dangerous. Sometalents were best not left to run wild, but there was no harm in this fellow, no malice. No ambition. "No spine," said Hemlock to the silence . of thehouse. "Let him crawl home to his mother." Still it rankled him that Diamond had let him down flat, without a word of thanks or apology. So much for goodmanners, he thought. As she blew out the lamp and got into bed, the witch'sdaughter heard an owl calling, the little, liquid hu-hu-hu-hu that made peoplecall them laughing owls. She heard it with a mournful heart. That had beentheir signal, summer nights, when they sneaked out to meet in the willowgrove, down on the banks of the Amia, when everybody else was sleeping. Shewould not think of him at night. Back in the winter she had sent to him nightafter night. She had learned her mother's spell of sending, and knew that itwas a true spell. She had sent him her touch, her voice saying his name, againand again. She had met a wall of air and silence. She touched nothing. Hewould not hear. Once or twice, all of a sudden, in the daytime, there hadbeen a moment when she had known him close in mind and could touch him if she reached out. But at night she knew only his blank absence, his refusal of her. She had stopped trying to reach him, months ago, but her heart was still very sore. "Hu-hu-hu," said the owl, under her window, and then it said, "Darkrose!" Startled from her misery, she leaped out of bed and opened theshutters. "Come on out," whispered Diamond, a shadow in thestarlight. "Mother's not home. Come in!" She met him at the door. They heldeach other tight, hard, silent for a long time. To Diamond it was as if heheld his future, his own life, his whole life, in his arms. At last she moved, and kissed his cheek, and whispered, "I missed you, I missed you, Imissed you. How long can you stay?" "As long as I like." She kept his handand led him in. He was always a little reluctant to enter the witch's house, apungent, disorderly place thick with the mysteries of women and witchcraft, very different from his own clean comfortable home, even more different fromthe cold austerity of the wizard's house. He shivered like a horse as he stoodthere, too tall for the herb-festooned rafters. He was very highly strung, andworn out, having walked forty miles in sixteen hours without food. "Where's your mother?" he asked in a whisper. "Sitting with old Ferny. She died thisafternoon, Mother will be there all night. But how did you gethere?" "Walked." "The wizard let you visit home?" "I ran away." "Ran away! Why?' "To keep you." He looked at her, that vivid, fierce, dark face in itsrough cloud of hair. She wore only her shift, and he saw the infinitelydelicate, tender rise of her breasts. He drew her to him again, but though shehugged him she drew away again, frowning. "Keep me?" she repeated. "Youdidn't seem to worry about losing me all winter. What made you come backnow?" "He wanted me to go to Roke." "To Roke?" She stared. "To Roke, Di? Then you really do have the gift --you could be a sorcerer?" To find her on Hemlock's side was a blow. "Sorcerers are nothing to him. He means I could bea wizard. Do magery. Not just witchcraft." "Oh I see," Rose said after a

moment. "But I don't see why you ran away." They had let go of each other'shands. "Don't you understand?" he said, exasperated with her for notunderstanding, because he had not understood. "A wizard can't have anything todo with women. With witches. With all that." "Oh, I know. It's beneaththem." "It's not just beneath them --" "Oh, but it is. I'll bet you had tounlearn every spell I taught you. Didn't you?" "It isn't the same kind of thing." "No. It isn't the High Art. It isn't the True Speech. A wizardmustn't soil his lips with common words. 'Weak as women's magic, wicked aswomen's magic,' you think I don't know what they say? So, why did you comeback here?" "To see you!" "What for?" "What do you think?" "You never sent to me, you never let me send to you, all the time you were gone. I was justsupposed to wait until you got tired of playing wizard. Well, I got tired ofwaiting." Her voice was nearly inaudible, a rough whisper. "Somebody's beencoming around," he said, incredulous that she could turn against him. "Who'sbeen after you?" "None of your business if there is! You go off, you turnyour back on me. Wizards can't have anything to do with what I do, what mymother does. Well, I don't want anything to do with what you do, either, ever. So go!" Starving hungry, frustrated, misunderstood, Diamond reached out tohold her again, to make her body understand his body, repeating that first, deep embrace that had held all the years of their lives in it. He foundhimself standing two feet back, his hands stinging and his ears ringing andhis eyes dazzled. Thc lightning was in Rose's eyes, and her hands sparked asshe clenched them. "Never do that again," she whispered. "Never fear," Diamond said, turned on his heel, and strode out. A string of dried sagecaught on his head and trailed after him. HE SPENT THE NIGHT in their old place in the sallows. Maybe he hoped she would come, but she did not come, andhe soon slept in sheer weariness. He woke in the first, cold light. He sat upand thought. He looked at life in that cold light. It was a different matterfrom what he had believed it. He went down to the stream in which he had been named. He drank, washed his hands and face, made himself look as decent as hecould, and went up through the town to the fine house at the high end, hisfather's house. After the first outcries and embraces, the servants and hismother sat him right down to breakfast. So it was with warm food in his bellyand a certain chill courage in his heart that he faced his father, who hadbeen out before breakfast seeing off a string of timber-carts to the GreatPort. "Well, son!" They touched cheeks. "So Master Hemlock gave you avacation?" "No, sir. I left." Golden stared, then filled his plate and satdown. "Left," he said. "Yes, sir. I decided that I don't want to be awizard." "Hmf," said Golden, chewing. "Left of your own accord? Entirely? With the Master's permission?" "Of my own accord entirely, without hispermission." Golden chewed very slowly, his eyes on the table. Diamond hadseen his father look like this when a forester reported an infestation in thechestnut groves, and when he found a mule-dealer had cheated him. "He wanted me to go to the College on Roke to study with the Master Summoner. He wasgoing to send me there. I decided not to go." After a while Golden asked, still looking at the table, "Why?" "It isn't the life I want." Another pause. Golden glanced over at his wife, who stood by the window listening insilence. Then he looked at his son. Slowly the mixture ofanger, disappointment, confusion, and respect on his face gave way tosomething simpler, a look of complicity, very nearly a wink. "I see," he said. "And what did you decide you want?" A pause. "This," Diamond said. His voicewas level. He looked neither at his father nor his mother. "Hah!" said Golden. "Well! I will say I'm glad of it, son." He ate a small porkpie in onemouthful. "Being a wizard, going to Roke, all that, it never seemed real, notexactly. And with you off there, I didn't know what all this was for, to tellyou the truth. All my business. If you're here, it adds up, you see. It addsup. Well! But listen here, did you just run off from the wizard? Did he knowyou were going?" "No. I'll write him," Diamond said, in his new, levelvoice. "He won't be angry? They say wizards have short tempers. Full ofpride." "He's angry," Diamond said, "but he won't do anything." So it