Free The Shining City by Kate Forsyth Page A

look o‟ the captain, he intends to make sure she will. Lewen is just sick about it all.”
    “We‟d better go and hear what he has to say then,” Olwynne said.
    With his legs still crossed, Owein flung open his wings and shot up into the air. As he stretched out his long legs, reaching out his hand to open the door, he knocked over some of her books and sent her papers flying. He did not seem to notice. In one smooth motion he was soaring out the door and over the balcony rail. Olwynne picked up her books and papers with a long-suffering sigh and followed more sedately.
    The boys‟ dormitories were on the far side of the garth and, in general, were out of bounds to the girls. However, rules were much more relaxed for the older apprentices, and as long as everyone was back in their own rooms by lights out, no one much cared. As Olwynne crossed the garth, she heard the bell ring, then the sound of several hundred students packing up their books and closing their desks. She quickened her pace, having no desire to run into any of her friends, who would want to stop her for a gossip.
    Both Owein and Lewen had recently been promoted to senior students and so their rooms were up on the top floor. Owein, of course, simply flew up and over the balcony, calling mockingly over his shoulder, “Come on, slow coach!” Olwynne had to go up by the stairs.
    Lewen‟s door stood ajar, and she knocked on it tentatively before going in. Lewen was lying on his bed, his arm flung up over his face. As Olwynne came in he dashed his hand over his eyes and sat up. He was white and haggard, his eyes red-rimmed. Shocked at the sight of him, Olwynne went swiftly to his side and put her arms about him. He gave a great sigh and slumped against her.
    Lewen MacNiall of Kingarth was the twins‟ greatest friend. He had first come to the Theurgia at the age of sixteen and, being only a few months younger than they were, had been put in their class. Owein and Olwynne had been at the Theurgia since the age of eight and knew everyone and everything. Lewen had never left his parents‟ farm before and had been stricken by acute homesickness, which he had done his best to hide. At first it was his misery and the gameness with which he sought to conceal it that touched Olwynne‟s tender heart, but soon his skill at games had won Owein over completely too. The three had been inseparable ever since,
    particularly once Lewen was appointed squire to the Rìgh in honor of his father, who had once been one of Lachlan MacCuinn‟s most trusted officers.
    “What in Eà‟s name is the matter?” Olwynne asked.
    Lewen seized her hands. “Ye‟ve got to help me, Olwynne. The captain‟s got Rhiannon locked up in prison and they willna let me in to see her! I‟ve got to see her, Olwynne!”
    “But why? Who‟s Rhiannon?”
    Lewen got up and went to the window. After a moment, he said, “She‟s from Dubhglais. She‟s half satyricorn. She was raised in the mountains by her mother‟s herd, but they despised her for being so human-looking. When her horns didna grow, she thought they‟d kill her and so she tamed a winged horse and flew it down out of the mountains. I found her and the poor exhausted mare and took them back to Kingarth. We thought . . . Mam and Dai-dein and I . . . that she had best come back with me to Lucescere. She has Talent, ye see. Strong Talent.”
    “But Owein says she was a prisoner . . . that she was bound and tied to the horse.”
    Lewen nodded, not turning around.
    “But why? What has she done?”
    “She killed Connor the Just,” Lewen said, very low.
    Owein had been floating up near the ceiling, but at this he exclaimed aloud and dropped down lightly to his feet. “Connor the Just! No‟ our Connor? Johanna‟s brother?”
    Lewen nodded and leaned his head against the windowframe.
    “Eà‟s green blood!” Owein exclaimed.
    Olwynne was distressed. “But why? How?”
    “No wonder the captain was so grim,” Owein said,