garden and came up near them, moving so quietly, though he was a big man, thatthey in their absorption did not hear him. The thing that was hopping up anddown on the grass between their bare toes was a rock. When Diamond raised hishand the rock jumped up in the air, and when he shook his hand a little therock hovered in the air, and when he flipped his fingers downward it fell toearth. "Now you," Diamond said to Rose, and she started to do what he haddone, but the rock only twitched a little. "Oh," she whispered, "there's yourdad." "That's very clever," Golden said. "Di thought it up," Rosesaid. Golden did not like the child. She was both outspoken and defensive, both rash and timid. She was a girl, and a year younger than Diamond, and awitch's daughter. He wished his son would play with boys his own age, his ownsort, from the respectable families of Glade. Tuly insisted on calling thewitch "the wisewoman," but a witch was a witch and her daughter was no fitcompanion for Diamond. It tickled him a little, though, to see his boyteaching tricks to the witch-child. "What else can you do, Diamond?" heasked. "Play the flute," Diamond said promptly, and took out of his pocketthe little fife his mother had given him for his twelfth birthday. He put itto his lips, his fingers danced, and he played a sweet, familiar tune from thewestern coast, "Where My Love Is Going." "Very nice,' said the father. "Butanybody can play the fife, you know." Diamond glanced at Rose. The girlturned her head away, looking down. "I learned it really quickly," Diamondsaid. Golden grunted, unimpressed. "It can do it by itself," Diamond said, and held out the fife away from his lips. His fingers danced on the stops, andthe fife played a short jig. It hit several false notes and squealed on thelast high note. "I haven't got it right yet," Diamond said, vexed andembarrassed. "Pretty good, pretty good," his father said. "Keep practicing." And he went on. He was not sure what he ought to have said. He did not want toencourage the boy to spend any more time on music, or with this girl; he spenttoo much already, and neither of them would help him get anywhere in life. Butthis gift, this undeniable gift t the rock hovering, the unblown fife -- Well, it would be wrong to make too much of it, but probably it should not bediscouraged. In Golden's understanding, money was power, but not the onlypower. There were two others, one equal, one greater. There was birth. Whenthe Lord of the Western Land came to his domain near Glade, Golden was glad toshow him fealty. The Lord was born to govern and to keep the peace, as Goldenwas born to deal with commerce and wealth, each in his place; and each, nobleor common, if he served well and honestly, deserved honor and respect. Butthere were also lesser lords whom Golden could buy and sell, lend to or letbeg, men born noble who deserved neither fealty nor honor. Power of birth andpower of money were contingent, and must be earned lest they be lost. But beyond the rich and the lordly were those called the Men of Power: the wizards. Their power, though little exercised, was absolute. In their hands lay the fate of the long-kingless kingdom of the Archipelago. If Diamond had been born to that kind of power, if that was his gift, thenall Golden's dreams and plans of training him in the business, and having himhelp in expanding the carting route to a regular trade with South Port, andbuying up the chestnut forests above Reche -- all such plans dwindled intotrifles. Might Diamond go (as his mother's uncle had gone) to the School ofWizards on Roke Island? Might he (as that uncle had done) gain glory for hisfamily and dominion over lord and commoner, becoming a Mage in the Court ofthe Lords Regent in the Great Port of Havnor? Golden all but floated up thestairs himself, borne on such visions. But he said nothing to the boy andnothing to the boy's mother. He was a consciously close-mouthed man, distrustful of visions until they could be made acts; and she, though adutiful, loving wife and mother and housekeeper, already made too much ofDiamond's talents and accomplishments. Also, like all women, she was inclinedto babble and gossip, and indiscriminate in her friendships. The girl Rosehung about with Diamond because Tuly encouraged Rose's mother the witch tovisit, consulting her every time Diamond had a hangnail, and telling her morethan she or anyone ought to know about Golden's household. His business was

none of the witch's business. On the other hand, Tangle might be able to tellhim if his son in fact showed promise, had a talent for magery...buthe flinched away from the thought of asking her, asking a witch's opinionon anything, least of all a judgment on his son. He resolved to wait and watch. Being a patient man with a strong will, he did so for four years, tillDiamond was sixteen. A big, well-grown youth, good at games and lessons, hewas 'still ruddy-faced and bright-eyed and cheerful. He had taken it hard whenhis voice changed, the sweet treble going all untuned and hoarse. Golden hadhoped that that was the end of his singing, but the boy went on wanderingabout with itinerant musicians, ballad-singers and such, learning all theirtrash. That was no life for a merchant's son who was to inherit and manage hisfather's properties and mills and business, and Golden told him so. "Singingtime is over, son," he said. "You must think about being a man." Diamond had been given his truename at the springs of the Amia in the hills above Glade. The wizard Hemlock, who had known his great-uncle the Mage, came up from SouthPort to name him. And Hemlock was invited to his nameday party the year after, a big party, beer and food for all, and new clothes, a shirt or skirt or shiftfor every child, which was an old custom in the West of Havnor, and dancing onthe village green in the warm autumn evening. Diamond had many friends, allthe boys his age in town and all the girls too. The young people danced, andsome of them had a bit too much beer, but nobody misbehaved very badly, and itwas a merry and memorable night. The next morning Golden told his son againthat he must think about being a man. "I have thought some about it," saidthe boy, in his husky voice. "And?" "Well, I," said Diamond, andstuck. "I'd always counted on your going into the family business," Goldensaid. His tone was neutral, and Diamond said nothing. "Have you had any ideasof what you want to do?" "Sometimes." "Did you talk at all to MasterHemlock?" Diamond hesitated and said, "No." He looked a question at hisfather. "I talked to him last night," Golden said. "He said to me that thereare certain natural gifts which it's not only difficult but actually wrong, harmful, to suppress." The light had come back into Diamond's dark eyes. "The Master said that such gifts or capacities, untrained, are not onlywasted, but may be dangerous. The art must be learned, and practiced, hesaid." Diamond's face shone. "But, he said, it must be learned and practicedfor its own sake." Diamond nodded eagerly. "If it's a real gift, an unusualcapacity, that's even more true. A witch with her love potions can't do muchharm, but even a village sorcerer, he said, must take care, for if the art isused for base ends, it becomes weak and noxious .... Of course, even asorcerer gets paid. And wizards, as you know, live with lords, and have whatthey wish." Diamond was listening intently, frowning a little. "So, to beblunt about it, if you have this gift, Diamond, it's of no use, directly, toour business. It has to be cultivated on its own terms, and kept under control-- learned and mastered. Only then, he said, can your teachers begin to tellyou what to do with it, what good it will do you. Or others," he addedconscientiously. There was a long pause. "I told him," Golden said, "that Ihad seen you, with a turn of your hand and a single word, change a woodencarving of a bird into a bird that flew up and sang. Pre seen you make a lightglow in thin air. You didn't know I was watching. I've watched and saidnothing for a long time. I didn't want to make too much of mere childish play. But I believe you have a gift, perhaps a great gift. When I told MasterHemlock what I'd seen you do, he agreed with me. He said that you may go studywith him in South Port for a year, or perhaps longer." "Study with MasterHemlock?" said Diamond, his voice up half an octave. "If you wish." "I, I, Inever thought about it. Can I think about it? For a while-- a day?" "Of course," Golden said, pleased with his son's caution. He had thoughtDiamond might leap at the offer, which would have been natural, perhaps, butpainful to the father, the owl who had -- perhaps -hatched out an eagle. For Golden looked on the Art Magic with genuine humility as something quite beyondhim -- not a mere toy, such as music or tale-telling, but apractical business, which his business could never quite equal. And he was,