In a stand of trees, this time well away from the busy merchants, Mikey practised for hours. The more he worked, the less he giggled and the less he giggled, the more he achieved. Near sunset, he reached the top of the tree. He balanced, light as Kael had done, lighter than any angel on a Christmas tree, his face raised to the sky and his arms outstretched to greet the world. His shout of triumph drifted down to Irenya. A moment later he had disappeared.
In a panic, she ran around the tree, but he was descending, alighting on branches or gently brushing them aside. Wonder and joy flushed his face. He landed on his feet as though he had simply jumped from a low stool. She ran toward him, her cry of delight stuck behind the lump in her throat. Her delight was short-lived; his sour mood retu
