The metal leg stiffened, then bent. “Work it as you might a real leg,” Frostpine urged.
The metal foot twitched. Very slowly the toes wriggled. Polyam braced her thigh with her hands, extended the metal limb, then pointed her foot.
“Try standing,” suggested Daja.
They had to assist her: she didn’t seem to remember how to move with two good legs. Finally she was able to walk around the room and out onto the balcony alone.
“It shouldn’t chafe,” Rosethorn called to her. “It’s entirely covered with the brass skin. Daja will tell you, hers doesn’t irritate her flesh at all.”
Polyam lifted her real leg onto the balcony rail, balancing entirely on her new limb. When she looked back at Daja, the girl held up her left hand and twiddled her fingers. The gold-colored brass glinted. “It’s like it really is skin,” Daja explained. “That’s what gave me the idea.”
Rosethorn took a jar of ointment out to Polyam. “If it does chafe, this should help. Just rub it wherever you have trouble.”
“Keep the limb clean,” Frostpine added. “It can be washed, but I suggest a drop or two of oil in the foot joints every week, and a palmful into the knee.”
Polyam ran a hand over the metal encasing her thigh, then put both feet on the ground once more. No one mentioned that her good eye streamed tears. “I could wear clothes again,” she whispered.
“Even boots,” Lark suggested with a smile.
“You can ride,” was Sandry’s contribution. “If you want, that is.”
“We tried to think of everything,” said Niko. “I hope you’ll keep in touch and let us know how you fare.”
“If problems arise, send word to Winding Circle. We’ll come to you,” added Frostpine. “But—I don’t believe you will have problems.”
Polyam wiped her face on her sleeve, then turned to Daja. “This is more than payment—”
“No,” Daja interrupted. “You gave me the chance to clear my name. Now we don’t owe each other a thing.” Looking at the carpet, she added softly, “I would like to be friends.”
Rough arms swept her up in a hug. “We are friends,” Polyam assured her in a fierce whisper. “We will always be friends.”
The next day the mages roused themselves at dawn and joined the duke and Lady Inoulia in seeing Tenth Caravan Idaram off. It made Daja breathless to see Polyam, in trousers and boots, swing into the saddle of a brown gelding as the ride leader signaled for the caravan to move out. Polyam followed him with the other riders, half-turned in the saddle so that she could wave, until the turn of the road hid her from sight.
Frostpine slung an arm around Daja’s shoulders. “Even if you never made another thing, the Traders will sing your name for generations,” he said cheerfully. “Of course, you’re going to make plenty more things.”
“I am?” she asked, looking up into his laughing eyes.
“Yes indeed—starting with nails.” He ignored Daja’s groan. “I believe you’ve made only a single bucketful the whole time we’ve been here, and I need a way to measure how much you’ve changed since our arrival. Nails will serve that need quite well.”
“Can they wait?” asked the duke, soft-voiced. “If the snows fall in five days, I would like to go myself—tomorrow.”
“Home,” said Lark with a happy sigh. “That sounds wonderful.”
“I’ll make nails all winter, if I can just do them at home,” Daja told Frostpine.
He sighed. “Oh, all right. We can make nails as well at Winding Circle as we can here.”
“Better,” Tris muttered to Daja. “At least at home it’s warm.” Her breath steamed in the icy mountain air.
Daja grinned. Not only would they be warmer, but they would be near the sea again. “Last one to the rooms gets to do all the packing!” she cried, and ran for the castle.