Young Writers Society

Silira's feet were flying along the canal steps, watching the sea. It was about five in the afternoon. A few of her sisters were near, she could see. Their tails flashed in the evening sun. Where was the ship? There was a black one, a trader in weapons from the south, no, there was a pale one with red sails, a rich merchant's craft from the east, no, there it was, a white ship with white sails, almost too bright to look at.

Corwin was on board the Firedrake,eagerly watching the shore. No one would be out watching, he reasoned. Of course not. Wintress was queen, and Henry had riding lessons, and Silent...oh, Silent wouldn't be there. She wouldn't be. Of course not. Why would she be? There was no reason for her to show up just for some prince who had shown her around Sentrynyl just because he was coming back and had missed her for two months, fool that he was to be always thinking about some girl he'd only known for a few wonderful weeks...those weeks had been the best of his life. Then he had ruined it all with his princely politics. She must hate him. Did she? Maybe? Possibly? Hopefully definitely not? Would she be there?

There she was, silver-golden hair gleaming in the sun, spinning around on the beach. Probably, Corwin reasoned, she was just out walking and hadn't known or...or cared that he was coming back after two months' absence. But he didn't care. She was looking out at the ship. Fortunately, he was looking at her, and not at the sea, or he would have seen the two riskily close mermaid tails disappearing into the crystal-clear depths. Her eyes were more intense than ever, deepening to the deepest blue of the sea as she looked out at him, returning to her.

She narrowed her eyes, trying to make out his face among the crewmen's slightly more tanned faces--not that he wasn't tan himself. He spent more of his free time outside, sailing. She ought to know that, since she had watched him so long. Then bells began to ring all over the city. Everyone was welcoming him home, and no wonder, after his father had been drowned. Silira could hear Henry yelling from the castle. "CORWIN! CORWIN'S BACK!"

She rose onto her toes and spun again, not being able to help herself, even though it hurt so much. She couldn't simply move as little as possible. She simply couldn't hold herself back, couldn't help dancing, whatever the reason. Then she swerved and ran out onto a long stretch of rock, spinning and spinning until she forgot the pain and all there was was the wind and the sky.

On board the Firedrake, Corwin laughed and spun around to face the captain. "Can you speed it up, sir? I'd like to get home as fast as possible." He turned again to face the land, looking at the Golden Palace and the banners flying in the wind, then down to Silira's bright hair flying like a banner.

The Firedrake docked in the harbor fifteen minutes later, the docks lined with people cheering. They really did love Corwin. Wintress, Henry, and Silira had all gotten into a carriage, and Fred had rushed them down through Sentrynyl with only half the usual escort of guards. The three were out of the carriage even before it had entirely stopped. Fred laughed and watched the gangplank thudding triumphantly down on the central dock. Corwin ran down it, ignoring the crowd, searching the docks for Henry and his sister. He didn't expect Silira to be there as well, of course not; she was just a friend and he'd see her back at the castle...

Wintress and Henry! There they were, running down the dock. He embraced them both, smiling and trying to answer the first twelve of Henry's questions about his journey...

And there she was.

She had been really unable to run any more once leaving the beach, and nearly collapsed from the pain in her feet, but she made it to the carriage without much trouble. Henry noticed her slightly strained expression--and when she actually looked as if she was suffering, the pain was serious--and asked her if anything was wrong. She had shaken her head and smiled no. But here she was, walking as fast as she could stand to, which wasn't very fast. Corwin turned and saw her, his bright black eyes lighting up. "Silent!"

He disengaged from Wintress and Henry and went up to Silira, taking both of her hands. "I'm..."

She happened to be looking very beautiful at that exact moment. He could barely speak. "I'm so glad to see you." Her radiant smile, almost actually glowing, told him she felt the same. He faltered, "I missed you. Though that may seem strange."

She shook her head slightly. He went back to his normal, endearing, never lost for words, slightly unobservant self. "Well," he said, turning to Wintress, "shall we go back to the castle? I've missed it. Astrakhan in all its desert glory doesn't compare to the Golden Palace."

Wintress took his hand and led him back to the coach, as their guards flanked them in. Silira took Henry's hand and led him back as well, some distance behind them, as Corwin and Wintress chattered about the plans for his birthday. "You'll be twenty," Wintress was saying. "Look at you. You're a stone fox. You don't have to get married, but--"

Corwin chuckled. "No, I do. Not sure to whom..." Then he said something that would either ruin Silira's life or fix everything.

"Well, there is this one girl."

Wintress glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "Who is she? I could invite her to the dinner party in a week."

He stopped smiling and looked out the window introspectively, watching the city go by. "I...I'll tell you later."

They were welcomed back to the Golden Palace with bells ringing and trumpets blowing. Corwin nodded to Marge and Tina upon entering, and tossed his cloak in their general direction. Wintress had to run back to official business. "I'm so sorry," she said, taking off his hat and throwing it to Marge as Tina caught the cloak. "I'll have some food sent to you in your room. You're probably very tired." She bustled off with courtiers in her wake. Henry, after chatting with Corwin as he made his way up the stairs, ran off to his riding lesson, which he was very late for. Corwin walked up the stairs without a second glance at Silira, already deep in thought. He needed to think.

Silira went to the kitchens and absently filched some chicken and a glass of milk. The cooks whispered about her behind the steam from the pots, pans, and cauldrons. "Poor thing. 'Is 'Ighness din't even giver a second glance." Everyone in the palace liked Silira.

Silira's heart was beginning to break. Living on land was wonderful, beyond all her most beautiful dreams, but her love of it paled in comparison to her love for Corwin. She still had a little hope, but not much. A little sneaking thought crept into her mind: Perhaps it would be better to die...