The leg held.
Rod gripped the pommel again and began to swing the leg as though he took a step with every shift of weight. At first it refused to budge, then twitched, then swung a little, then wider and wider. When he had achieved a normal length of stride, he began to put his weight on it at the end of the forward swing, then lifted and swung it back. When it held his full weight, he let go of the pommel and began walking in place, then stepped away from Fess and back, then away and around in a circle.
"Well done, Rod," the robot said. "You have recapitulated two years of physical therapy in an hour."
"Is that how long it's been?" Time seemed to pass differently when Rod was in a trance. "Now let's work on the arm." He heard his voice say, "Nahwehwhirahdah."
"Then you will begin work on your speech?"
Rod glanced at the sun's rays, where they laid their path through dust-motes to the leaves below. "Won't be time before dark. I'll have to finish that tomorrow."
By sunset, he had the right arm and hand back to full function and was quite unreasonably proud that he was able to brew up a stew of jerky and dried vegetables.
Speech took longer, though. It required much more fine-muscle coordination, so even after a night's sleep and a morning's work, it was noon by the time Rod was willing to take a break, drown the fire, and ride on through the forest. After an hour, he started practicing tongue-twisters again, and was speaking quite normally by the time he pitched camp that evening. For practice, he discussed the elf marksman with Fess.
"I did not notice any unusual amounts of witch-moss around his feet, Rod."
Rod nodded. "It probably all came from within—he was much heavier than anyone his size has a right to be. Even if he absorbed extra witch-moss as he grew, there must have been a lot of it in him to begin with. That was one very tightly-compacted elf."
"But you knew whatever mass he had would be, shall we say, stretched thin when he grew twelve feet in a matter of minutes?"
"Thin as cobwebs—which is exactly what he felt like when I rode through." Rod shuddered at the memory and spooned up some more stew—an action of which he was unreasonably proud at the moment. "He had become, if you'll pardon the phrase, a very insubstantial elf."
THE SENTRY AT the gatehouse looked uncertain as Alea approached. "Do you need an escort, milady?"
Alea bristled but hid it; she flashed him a smile instead and wondered why his eyes widened—but she said, "No thank you, trooper." She brandished her staff. "I have all the protection I need—unless there are wild lions in that wood that no one's told me about?"
"No, milady." Wide-eyed or not, the man still seemed doubtful. "There's wolves and bears, though we haven't seen 'em in a year or two."
"I'll take my chances, then," Alea said. "Sometimes you just need to be by yourself for a while, you know?"
"Yes, milady." The young man clearly didn't.
Alea knew she didn't have to explain but tried anyway. "I'm a stranger here, trooper, and sometimes I feel very much alone—but I don't when I'm in the forest by myself."
"Just call if you need help, milady."
"As loudly as I can." Alea gave him a bright smile as she turned away. "And I'm not the daughter of a lord, so you don't have to call me lady."
"Begging your pardon, milady, but if you're Sir Magnus's companion, you're a lady."
Alea sighed, recognizing a fight she couldn't win. She only said, "Thank you, soldier," and turned to walk through the tunnel and out under the portcullis.
The woods were as welcoming as Alea had expected; as soon as the leaves closed around her, she felt a burden lift from her. She wondered why—she had been on planets where she knew no one before. Here, at least, she had Magnus's brothers and sister.
Of course—that was why. She felt she was continually on trial, continually being judged for her fitness to accompany Magnus. Here, though, only the beasts and birds would judge her, and that was as a threat or merely an interesting addition to their world.
She strolled down a path, letting the thoughts gradually empty from her mind, filling it instead with birdsong and the rustling of leaves. She came to a little clearing with a large rock off to one side and sat down to enjoy the play of sunlight and shadow.
"It has taken you long enough to come out of that ugly stone shell," Evanescent said.
Alea looked up, surprised to see the cat-headed alien, then frowned. "It would help if you didn't keep erasing my memories of you after every encounter. How am I supposed to know you want to talk if I can't even remember you exist?"
"You might ask me how I like this new world."
"You might ask me the same."
"Very well." Evanescent tucked her paws under her chest as she lay down. "How do you find this world of Gramarye, Alea?"
"Oh, the world itself is well and good," Alea said. "It's the people who are giving me difficulty."
"Really?" the alien asked, interested. "Which people?"
"Only Magnus's brothers and sister," Alea said with a sigh. "His father has gone adventuring, which is too bad, for he seemed very nice. All the servants and soldiers are friendly, though. A bit distant, since they seem to think I'm an aristocrat, but friendly nonetheless."
"You don't think you're a fine lady?"
"I'm a farmer's daughter," Alea snapped. "If I'd known Magnus was noble, I'd never have had anything to do with him!"
Evanescent tilted her head to the side, considering the statement, then asked, "Isn't the man worth more than his rank?"
"Yes, I suppose so," Alea conceded. "I'm just a bit upset at the thought of serving as his squire."
"That's not what people expect." Evanescent spoke as a mind-reader with no compunctions about mental eavesdropping.
"No, it's not. They all seem to expect me to marry him—never mind that he isn't in love with me!"
"Or you in love with him?" Evanescent asked. "I noticed you didn't mention that."
"Didn't, and won't," Alea snapped.
Evanescent sighed and stirred with impatience. 'This emotion you silly two-legs call 'being in love' is rather exasperating."
"Don't I know it," Alea said with all her heart. "But why does it bother you?"
"Only because you all seem to want it so badly, but are so reluctant to tell each other about it," Evanescent explained. "Are you that much afraid of being hurt?"
Yes! Alea thought, and was surprised at her own intensity. Aloud, she said, "That's where we can be most easily and most deeply hurt. Magnus still hasn't recovered from the injuries that she-wolf Finister gave him years ago."