"Thank you," she said. "I shouldn't have left the others. I didn't think he had noticed."
She walked slowly towards the tavern, Henry beside her. The past year had made her taller, filled her out. Yet the sweetness of her expression was the same, and the vitality in her face and eyes.
"He's been after you then?"
She nodded. "Him and a couple of others."
It was just a turn in the path to sight of the tavern. Henry halted.
"You seem to forget I'm proscribed," he reminded her.
"I don't care! I like you—always have." Her voice became tragic, "Why did you go into that awful learning house?"
"I got tired of wondering—wondering what kept the food in the bins fresh, how it got from the hoppers in the fields to the bins. What made the light and heat. Where the water came from."
"But the Old Ones did it all by magic!"
"What kind of magic?" His face had a slightly mocking expression. "If that was so why are things beginning to break down? Magic should go on forever."