The counter reversed itself, returned along the thin, ringless fingers to the end of the hand, over the side, to be deftly caught by that same hand before it had fallen an inch. Moonhawk looked up with a grin, as proud of mastering this minor bit of hand-skill as she had ever been of learning any of the true-spells taught in Temple. It had taken days of almost constant practice to teach her muscles the rhythm required to move the counter smoothly across her own skin. It was the sort of thing one might do while walking, which was Lute's stated reason for teaching her this skill first. They had been walking for two days. "I do believe you are ready to learn something a little more difficult," the magician said now, and looked around him. The road was empty. The road--the track, really, Moonhawk thought--had been empty for two days. Of all the people on Sintia, only Lute and Moonhawk found the village of Karn a destination of interest. "The season is early," Lute murmured, seeming, as he so often did, to be reading her very thoughts.
