Aberdon, Tortall

Winter, 458 H.E.

Roald knelt in the mud and examined the two porch stilts that had Madam Brass concerned. Sure enough they were missing some nails and wobbled pathetically when he pushed them. The problem wasn't really the missing nails, though. The wood itself was worn and broken, especially where the stilts were fixed to the porch. They would both have to be replaced, along with a dozen others, come spring when the ground hardened. The job didn't sound fun but he smiled to himself—at least there'd still be a way for him to work for his keep. He set his box of tools on the porch and pulled out his hammer, four nails, and one of the small boards he used to brace the bad wood.

He'd finished the first stilt and was about to move on to the second when something jumped up on his knees and stuck a small black nose in his face. Startled, Roald looked up. A redheaded girl stood in front of him. She wore a brown, coarse wool skirt that was several inches too short and a cotton blouse that was too big. The animal jumped from Roald's knee and scurried up to the girls shoulder. It curled its body around her neck and watched him with beady green eyes.

By her clothing the girl looked indistinctive—any one of the farmers' children, usually young boys, who came around the house looking for handouts. However, her expression wasn't that of a child beggar. She gazed calmly and knowingly at him and when Roald met her gaze his stomach lurched. Her eyes were a light violet that he knew too well for his comfort.

The girl smiled and held out her hand to him. Roald shook it reluctantly. "Andera of Mindelan," she said, "Kit."

"Roald…Wilima." Roald answered. "What can I do for you? You seem a bit young to be looking for Madam Brass, not to mention high-blooded."

Kit sat down on the edge of the porch and the un-braced stilt groaned ominously. "The Goddess sent me to find you, but you probably have a better idea of why than I do, Highness."

Roald dropped the hammer, just missing his own foot. Kit watched it sink into the mud as Roald's mind reeled. If she really was who he thought she was, then it shouldn't be that surprising that she was sitting in front of him talking about the Goddess like that. But still doubt and questions whirled around in his head. He wanted to know where she'd been for the last nine years and how she'd become 'of Mindelan.' Was it possible he'd given up believing to soon?

"You know you dropped your hammer in the mud there?" Kit said.

"Yeah," Roald mumbled, now wondering where she'd learned to take things in stride like she was. Her expression and tone hadn't changed from her introduction through to her comment about his hammer. He envied her that ability.

"Anyway, the Goddess seemed fairly annoyed with you. If not for her ability to materialize herself and other things out of thin air, I'd almost say she was human the last time we talked. I think you and I are causing trouble for her. I know what it is I'm doing, but I still haven't quite got your part in all this out."

"What are you talking about?" Roald demanded. He didn't like the feeling he was being out paced by a girl who looked to be about eleven.

"Well, it seems simple to me. Either you are the king or you aren't."

"I'm not the king." Roald said harshly. That was the very last thing he wanted to talk about.

Kit shrugged. "Alright then, I might not hang around long. I kind of wouldn't mind—owe." Kit tipped her head so she could glare at her pet and rubbed her neck. After a moment she turned back to Roald. Later Roald could never make up his mind whether or not some sort of understanding passed between the animal and girl. "Alright, here's the deal. I wouldn't mind being able to go home and try to fix things with my brother, but since are destinies don't appear to be fully ours, we're stuck with each other. I promised Kel a year ago that I'd go with her when she had to be presented at court. Gods' will or no, I still plan on keeping that promise." Kaji chirped and licked her neck.

Kit looked over her shoulder at the house. "You're staying here or just working?"

"I'm living here but—"

"Great, it looks nice. Where do I sleep and is there anything to eat? Oh, sorry, you can finish first." She fished his hammer out of the mud and handed it to him then, hopping of the porch, crouched beside him and was quiet.