The Sign And The Emblem
                         Prologue
    "Brin? Where are you? You've won!"
    Giggling in delight, the young sea Elwen loosed her 
hold on the kelp and drifted down from the surface where 
she'd been hiding, hundreds of feet above her unsuspecting 
father. As she swam, the webs that had been tucked behind 
her hands unfolded, and her iridescent blue-green scales 
shimmered slightly in a sudden, brighter stab of sunlight 
than normal.
    Below her, she could see her father, swimming in a 
circle as he stared upward, face a quiet grin of relief. 
Like her, he had purple-green hair shorn close to his 
head, but his eyes were black, while hers glowed, she had 
been told, an amazing green.
    "Brin." Her father caught her and hugged her close, 
then drew back to regard her sternly as they swam side by 
side. One hand went up to his gill slits for a moment, and 
the ten-year-old squirmed; it must be serious. "That was 
very clever. But please don't go so close to the surface 
again alone, all right?"
    Brin nodded miserably. Everyone kept telling her the 
same thing. They wouldn't, she thought rebelliously, if 
they could once feel the sun shining down and see the 
surface sparkling in its light.
    Still, she didn't want to displease her father. This 
was his first visit home in almost three moon-growths. "I 
promise, Father."
    "Good girl." He held her for a moment again, then 
swiftly released her. Cessation of movement for just a 
moment was uncomfortable for any mirari.
    "And now, we should be getting back to the Towers." 
Her father squinted up at the brighter water above them, 
slowly changing color to a red-painted turquoise. "Living 
One Hamissa told me orcan whales had been spotted in this 
area after sundown for some reason." The tone of his voice 
was worried, and Brin, paddling in a slow, regular circle 
around him, shivered slightly. Then she told herself not 
to be such a child. How could even those evil creatures 
hurt her, when her father was near?
    They set off, slipping through the sea with the same 
grace as the fish they passed. Coral, rocks, clam shells, 
and tall patches of grass littered the warm water at 
frequent intervals; once a small dolphin pod swam above 
them, uttering a swath of greeting clicks. A few minutes 
later, the reason for the pod's hurry came up and danced 
about them, spinning circuits as graceful as any 
dolphin's, normally dull eye filled with delight.
    Brin laughed and petted the White Brother, her 
similarly protected hands sliding harmlessly over his 
rough scales. Surely they could swim more slowly now. Even 
orcan whales might hesitate to attack sea Elwens 
accompanied by a great white shark.
    Smiling, her father drew out the small shark, carved 
delicately of coral, that hung on a chain around his neck, 
and closed his eyes. Brin could feel surges of 
electricity, more than normal, emanating from him, and 
giggled again at her own silliness; it felt almost like 
the pulses coming from a wounded fish.
    The White Brother darted and danced for a moment, 
indicating he would honor her father's silent request. 
Though they could be spoken to, normal Brothers could not 
speak back until they were older than this young one.
    Still, Brin, with no idea of what her father had used 
the Sign for, knew a moment of pure joy when the shark 
suddenly began swimming much more slowly toward her. She 
floated up and onto his back, gripping with her knees and 
webbed feet and staring around in wonder. Now that she 
didn't have to be preoccupied with speed or her own 
safety- for her father also swam protectively at her side 
as the shark moved- she could revel in the beauty around 
her.
    A great turtle drifted toward them amiably, any fear 
muted by the presence of sea Elwens. It let her touch its 
shell briefly; then it was gone, floating away with a 
swift application of all four flippers.
    The young mirari laughed again when some dolphins saw 
and started toward them, then retreated rapidly, squeaking 
and clicking to each other in suspicion. They spoke too 
swiftly for her to understand; it sounded like gabbled 
nonsense, even to her keen ears. When at last the dolphins 
put up their beaks and swam the other way, she wondered if 
it were real snobbery or simply fear that had kept them 
from coming closer.
    They passed over the Grass, the vast bed of waving 
weed and sea-grass that the mirari used in times when the 
choila and other choice fish were scarce. Brin bounced up 
and down. They were almost home- or what was home for 
right now.
    Yes! In a few minutes, the Towers, graceful sculptures 
of red-gold crystal, loomed up before them. Though their 
colors couldn't shine as brilliantly in the sunset, Brin 
knew she would see them clearly again when darkness 
returned to the ocean. Then she would see them by the aura 
of their existence, not by light.
    The White Brother slowed, sweeping in among the Towers 
until he alighted near the small cave Brin and her father 
were using. Brin hopped off and turned to bid him a polite 
farewell; no need to be discourteous simply because he 
couldn't talk. 
    Her father translated, using the Sign, and the shark 
swept a final circle before swimming away again to find 
his dolphins. With a chuckle, the older mirari touched 
Brin's hand and led her further into the cave.
    It was wide enough for them to circle comfortably, 
with a small shelf for them to lay sea-grass and dead 
choila on. Brin also had a special nook where she kept the 
first fish she had ever killed displayed. Silly, in a way; 
it was vanity, a Living One had told her once, frowning. 
She had asked her father what that meant, and he had 
explained that a vain person was the kind who would admire 
her reflection on the sides of a mirror coral and never 
notice the sea-flowers opening to swallow her up.
    Brin thought that through, and decided the Living One 
had made a mistake. She would never do anything so stupid. 
It was against sense.
    "Brin?" Her father spoke quietly, and his voice was so 
bereft of joy that she spun out of her circle to face him, 
distressed. What had she done wrong?
    But the look in his eyes was not of the special 
disappointment he showed whenever she had done something 
wrong. It was the look he had worn when a dolphin, enraged 
that their hunt had seemed to pass near her calf, had 
killed Brin's mother. He looked tired, and upset, and he 
was blaming himself again. Brin could see no sense in 
that, but she kept quiet about it. He was her father, 
after all, and nearly as wise as a Living One.
    No, corrected the part of her that was still thinking 
about her fish. Wiser.
    "Brin," her father said again softly before she could 
ask what was wrong, "I may someday have to do something I 
don't want to. It might result in..." He sighed deeply. 
"Bad things."
    Brin bristled. She wasn't a child; she was only ten 
years from her Choila Celebration! He could tell her! But 
he was going on, circling near the wall with a slowness 
that spoke of fatigue.
    "Someday, Brin, I won't be able to do what I do any 
more." He lifted the Sign out again from beneath his shirt 
of scales and water-spider silk, and touched the Emblem on 
one cheek. It was a metal shark, somehow welded there ever 
since she could remember. It had whitish-gray scales, 
shading to black near the tail.
    "You mean talk to the sharks? Stay with the 
corallords?" She knew he spoke to the corallord allies of 
her people, that he was their Dreamer, but it was all so 
many fancy words. Maybe he would finally tell her what it 
was he did!
    Her father smiled, revealing his polished, pointed 
teeth. One was broken, Brin noted with concern, and the 
new one had not yet moved in. "Something like that, yes. 
What I want to know is if you would be interested in doing 
it after me."
    "Yes!" She was practically wriggling with impatience. 
"Will you tell me what you do now?"
    Instead of answering, he leaned over and touched the 
Sign to her cheek, just below her eye. There was a bright 
flash of light, and a low vibration, like the ones her 
line-system helped her hear. Then she seemed to hear a 
distant, musical voice singing her name for a moment. 
    But she couldn't investigate properly, because the use 
of the magic sent her spiraling down into sleep.




                        Chapter 1
                        Choiladay
                     Ten Years Later
    "Brin!" Teeathi muttered, dodging to the side with her 
mouthful of pins. "Will you move slower?"
    "Hmmm? What?" The younger mirari finally turned her 
attention to her friend, who was trying patiently to fit 
her with a silk-scale gown. "Oh, sorry, Teeathi. I was 
thinking."
    "About adulthood, I hope." Teeathi's voice might have 
been approving, but it was hard to tell because of the 
pins. Brin grimaced. It probably was approving. Ever since 
she'd been told she might become a Living One someday, 
she'd been traditional, and done everything right.
    But no sea Elwen could lie to another sea Elwen, and 
in any case Brin had no qualms about telling Teeathi the 
truth. "No. I was thinking about my father. Maybe he can 
get away from Dunyairrin in time to attend my Choila 
Celebration. He did say he might come."
    Teeathi's blue eyes opened wide, and one hand, 
momentarily freed by a slipping, reluctant stream of gown, 
rose to her gill slits. "Brin, you shouldn't wish that!" 
Her voice settled into the whining, nasal tones of Sala, 
their tutor. Everyone but Brin seemed to mimic him when 
they were quoting one of his lessons. "Blessed are the 
Dreamers, for theirs is the duty that keeps the corallords 
alive. Wish not the cessation of their duty."
    Brin's exasperation for her friend, which had been 
building through all the constant tiny preparations for 
Choiladay, finally broke through. "Teeathi, it's a silly 
superstition! They're not going to stop Dreaming even if 
someone wishes they would."
    "I don't know why anyone would." Teeathi was prim now; 
there could be no mistaking the tone in her voice, or the 
stiff posture of her body as she swam. "You're going to be 
a Dreamer someday, aren't you?"
    Brin sighed, the water swooshing in her gill slits 
loudly. Teeathi was thinking of nothing but the future 
lately. "Yes. But-"
    "Then cheer up." Teeathi finished the gown and touched 
her gently on the shoulder. "He'll be home if he can; if 
not, he won't."
    When her proper friend had swum away, Brin balled her 
hand into a fist and drummed gently on the wall of her 
Tower room.
    That was the problem with all of them. They accepted 
what the sea gave them, what the sea took away, what the 
Living Ones told them. If something didn't go the way they 
hoped, they shrugged it off as the mercy of the sea. They 
always told themselves it could have been worse.
    Why did they never think it could have been better?
    Ah, well. This was special. Tomorrow, she, Brin, born 
on the Third Night After New Moons twenty years ago, would 
finally become an adult. Then she could talk to the Living 
Ones whenever she wanted, learn more about the corallords, 
and finally swim in a mature position in the School.
    For it was the twentieth year after she had been born, 
and so female green choila had returned. It was her 
special year.
    And this night was supposed to be spent in prayer or 
contemplation, at or near the surface- the one time of her 
life that it was proper for a young mirari to go to the 
surface alone. Brin shook the lessons out of her head and 
swam out of the Tower room.
    Up and up then, to the lighter regions of the sea 
where moonlight sparkled and danced off swarming angelfish 
and longsea crabs. She felt a tingle as she left her 
School's territory, passing through the electrified water- 
fence that the male mirari could weave. She swallowed in 
excitement and not a little trepidation. Now she couldn't 
return to her home until the ceremony was complete.
    She spun a circle, short hair trailing briefly behind 
her before settling again to the back of her gown. Though 
the water slipped as smoothly past the garment as past her 
own scales, it felt strange. Of course, she'd never worn 
clothes before.
    For all the strangeness, however, it was beautiful, 
white spider-silk and scales from the strange fish that 
lived to the north, where the hard water drifted across 
the real water. Pearls encircled her throat, and her hair 
was twined with moonstones, a gift from her father. He'd 
said something vaguely about them coming from Elwens above 
the waves, which was silly. No one lived above the waves 
except for birds.
    She reached the surface and pushed her head above it. 
For a moment, she felt the most horrible suffocating 
sensation as her gills left the water; then something in 
her that she didn't understand changed. For the first time 
in her life, she breathed air. 
    She looked around in wonder, not only at the play of 
moonlight on the water but also at her own stillness. If 
she didn't keep moving in the water, she couldn't breathe, 
just like the White Brothers. But up here, she could tread 
water and look around all she liked.
    The moons were tiny scraps in the sky, but still more 
than bright enough for eyes accustomed to blurry undersea 
light or utter blackness. The red-white one was in front, 
the purple one just behind. On the edge of vision hovered 
a tiny bit from the aqua moon.
    Brin did not see why anyone would need names for the 
moons. They were the moons. How could you mistake them? 
Still, the rhyme she had been taught had names in it, and 
she had learned them by heart. Now she had to sing them.
    Her lungs inflated- a new and intriguing sensation- 
and she was about to begin when she noticed the stars. She 
stared, transfixed, breath slowly dying in her throat.
    They glittered across the dark white sky like a 
thousand thousand gemstones scattered by a generous hand. 
As if all the oysters in the world had given up their 
pearls at once. As if the imaginary Elwens above the waves 
had held a moonstone riot. As if...
    Brin closed her reeling mind and the song welling in 
her throat, a wordless, liquid praise of the stars. Before 
she could begin to sing to the creators of her people, she 
had to get the moon-rhyme out of the way.
    Her voice rose, more alone than anything she had ever 
heard, chanting the words that must have meant something 
once.

    "Salsi, lord of night, inspirer of light,
     Grant me your wisdom now.
     The wisdom of winter, the wisdom of the hinter,
     When before a foe to bow.

    "Rareth, lord of light, inspirer of right,
     Give to me your wisdom if you will.
     The wisdom of spring, when to do the right thing,
     And when to watch, and be still.

    "Takon, lord of right, inspirer of night,
     Gift me with wisdom, I pray.
     The wisdom of summer, when to obey my heart's drummer
     And when to listen to what others say.

    "Moon-lords who sail on the wind's gusty wail,
     Favor your child if you choose.
     Or if you don't care, I won't despair.
     I will still win, and not lose."

    Brin sighed in relief as the last words- words the 
Living Ones had coaxed into her, but which still felt 
strained and unnatural- left her lips. The solemn 
invocation to the moons to share their wisdom, and the 
proclamation that she would triumph even without it, was 
finally done.
    Now...
    Elwensong serenaded the sea, so silent here on the 
surface, with not even the soundless melody of vibrations 
and electrical surges to keep her company, and the stars. 
Brin didn't know if she was supposed to be doing this, and 
a moment later, she didn't care. The music swept her away, 
making her float like a bubble in a sea of wild, joyous 
abandon. Waves of delight swept across her soul, which at 
last calmed into a peaceful lagoon.
    Brin floated for a long moment, head back, the hair 
she had grown out for two months floating around her like 
a coronet of seaweed. At last she shook away the odd 
peace, and, with one last smile for the stars, turned to 
her appropriate task.
    Contemplating the sea.
    All mirari could do things like predict foul weather, 
locate pollution in the water, and give electric shocks to 
their enemies. But that was only natural; that was the 
magic every child had from birth. Only on Choila Eve, the 
day before her or his twentieth birthday, did a sea Elwen 
gain the gender-specific ability that made her or him an 
adult.
    Brin trembled in excitement as her growing awareness 
of the sea began to focus on water touched by starlight, 
and tried to ignore half-remembered warnings that she 
could be consumed in this- or, worse, never gain her magic 
at all.
    She reached for the ella, the starwater, and felt it 
surge and leap in response all over the ocean, though it 
would be visible only as a slight shiver. For a moment, 
she reveled in the sense of being the entire sea, 
connected to the lives that swam through her in a thousand 
intimate ways, strange and yet familiar.
    The sensation was too much for any mortal being to 
withstand. Reluctantly, she felt it slip away from her, 
and turned her attention to the nearest ella.
    It was beautiful, a silver lagoon enclosed by reefs of 
deep blue water. Her own little atoll. Laughing softly at 
her own foolishness, Brin waited one moment more, silently 
bidding farewell to her childhood.
    Then she reached.
    An arc of sparkling starlit water lifted from the 
surface and spun in midair in mimicry of her own string of 
pearls. A moment later, Brin understood why she had been 
warned against stray thoughts. The water did form pearls, 
illusory replicas of the ones around her neck.
    Brin felt a burst of proud excitement run through her. 
She had her magic already! Most female mirari- most women, 
she corrected herself- could not manage such a complicated 
illusion right away.
    Then she bit her lip thoughtfully. She knew she was 
supposed to spend the rest of Choila Eve sculpting light 
forms of sharks, dolphins, and other creatures that shared 
the water with sea Elwens. It was a ritual to symbolize 
her people's connection to their environment and...
    She couldn't remember the rest. She must have gone to 
sleep while the Living One explained it.
    Still, it couldn't hurt to peek in on her father, 
could it? Even if, technically, using an illusion to see 
what a specific creature was doing at a given moment was 
advanced magic, and supposed to come only after dedicated 
years of practice.
    But Brin could do it. She felt the power in her, 
rushing along like the blood in her veins, purring like a 
jet of warm water from a seamount. It had never been there 
before- or it had, but sleeping. Awakened by the magic of 
this night, it was practically begging her to do something 
with it.
    "Show me my father," she whispered aloud- a little 
self-consciously, for no words were necessary to command 
ella. It would respond to the silent whim of her will 
alone. But perhaps the part of her that was a good little 
mirari hoped the watching Living Ones would catch her.
    For a moment, the starlit water swirled like a 
maelstrom, and the pearls she had sculpted fell back to 
the surface of the water. She wondered if it would refuse 
to obey her. But then it lifted, suddenly, into a 
beautiful representation of an atoll.
    Brin watched in awe. Like a gull, she seemed to skim 
over the lagoon of the atoll and then plunge into it. 
Seeing the vast holes in the coral and the small, pearl- 
studded compartments here and there, she knew she looked 
in on Dunyairrin, where her father spent most of his time.
    The vision, still showing everything in minute but 
perfect detail, homed in on one compartment. There her 
father and a corallord swam in circles. They seemed to be 
arguing about something.
    Abruptly her father stopped for a moment, a sign of 
either extreme respect or acute distress, and then 
continued swimming. Brin wished in frustration that her 
visions produced sound, but only female Living Ones could 
do that. She had to be content with watching the corallord 
tip his head in, she thought, sad agreement as her father 
swam out of the compartment.
    The vision dissolved, her lack of concentration and 
experience breaking it apart. Brin sighed- it made a real 
sound, here, when you expelled air instead of water- and 
turned to her assigned tasks. She had seen what she wanted 
to.
    For the rest of the night, silver dolphins leaped and 
capered just above the water, then dissolved into 
shimmering sharks which in turn became mantas, orcan 
whales, starfish, clams, and other forms Brin had not 
known of until this moment. Somehow, her recognition of 
them was immediate. Beluga. Sea snake. Sea-going 
crocodile. Gray whale.
    Her wonder and the peace that flooded through her when 
she could use her magic no longer lasted until morning. 
The rising of the sun was piercingly bright, and reminded 
Brin that she was supposed to be beneath the surface now 
anyway. She dove, just barely resisting the urge to suck 
in a breath.
    There came another odd sensation, a ripple through her 
and a sense of change, and then she was breathing normally 
once more. She sank through the water with a speed and 
efficiency that would have made a similar-sized dolphin 
look clumsy- if it could even manage it. They wasted all 
their time in play, Brin thought disapprovingly, as she 
paced two young males executing elaborate acrobatics in 
front of a disinterested female.
    The water altered from gold and bright blue to 
familiar, dim blue-green. Brin spread her arms, both to 
increase water resistance and in whimsical welcome as she 
once again passed through the water-fence. This time she 
seemed to hear voices on the edge of reality whispering 
approval and acceptance of her as an equal.
    Such a happy illusion was short-lived. She had barely 
turned toward the Towers when she was accosted by three 
Living Ones in shark form. Their pectoral fins pointed 
downward, a sign of dangerous anger.
    ^What do you mean,^ challenged one voice in her head, 
loud and filled with the boom of the breakers, ^returning 
now? You were supposed to be beneath the surface when the 
moons set!^
    Brin sighed and raised her arms submissively, slowing 
her swim slightly. Though she was no longer a child, even 
adults had to defer to the Living Ones' vast wisdom. "I'm 
sorry, Living One Hamissa," she replied aloud. "I was 
interested in the magic, and-"
    ^You are an adult now,^ cut in a second Living One. 
^You must put away childish traits.^
    "Yes, Skarn." Though they depended on each other for 
survival, mirari were wise enough to allow some room for 
Elwen independence and pride. Brin only had to apply 
titles to those females older than her.
    ^We are not displeased with your talent, Brin, only 
your application of it,^ telepathed the third shark 
sternly. 
    "Yes, Living One Fershella." Brin privately wondered 
why Fershella, though she seemed to be the kindest and 
most well-intentioned of the Living Ones, always managed 
to make her annoyed.
    ^Forgiven,^ Hamissa telepathed. ^Now Shift, Sister, 
and leave your childhood behind.^
    Brin's spirits lifted a little. It was the first time 
a Living One had ever addressed her by an adult title, and 
a good indication that they would perform their part in 
her Choiladay Celebration without balking.
    The world stirred around her as she stretched her 
being to encompass the other that awaited her on the far 
side of existence. All mirari could do this from birth, 
too, and it wasn't hard. Today, though, it had a special 
and mystical significance.
    Her body literally as well as spiritually stretched, 
and she suddenly felt more alive, more aware of the water 
around her. The messages of vibrations and electrical 
surges that always arrived grew more distinct, and easier 
to catalog, pay attention to, or ignore as necessary. Her 
physical hearing faded, her smell sharpened, and her arms 
and legs molded themselves into different shapes.
    When she opened her eyes, the world was clearer around 
her, and the Living Ones were sweeping before her toward 
the Towers. She followed, steering her shark body with her 
accustomed ease, though moving a tail was considerably 
different from moving webbed feet.
    Instead of heading for a specific room in the Towers, 
the Living Ones headed toward the top, where the Towers 
curved toward one another, several hundred feet below the 
surface. Brin's heart beat faster, and her shark instincts 
were momentarily eclipsed by a very Elwen apprehension. 
They would go ahead with the ceremony- but would she be 
able to complete it correctly?
    The telltale surges of a wounded fish distracted her 
momentarily, but she ignored them. She wouldn't be able to 
eat until the Hunt after the Initiation, when she would be 
permitted- nay, encouraged- to swallow all the choila she 
could get her teeth on.
    The water was full of sharks, shimmering blue-green 
sharks who were in reality mirari, all heading for the 
same place. They ignored even the fat, tasty treats of 
choila bobbing in easy reach. The sea Elwens had few 
rituals, but those they had they wanted to get right.
    Brin halted at her appointed place, beside a small 
groove in the rock of a Tower, and began a slow circle, 
staring upward. The spectators were gathering at their 
appointed places, too, forming rows with a central aisle 
between them. That she would have to swim.
    She spotted Teeathi, who gave her an encouraging 
waggle of a pectoral fin.
    The Living Ones were now swimming near the pointed top 
where all the Towers joined into a blob of red-gold rock. 
For a moment their circles seemed aimless; then Brin 
realized they were spreading slowly outward into the 
pattern of a five-pointed star. She swallowed nervously, 
hoping she had the directions correct, and began slowly 
and majestically to swim upwards, past the watchers.
    Eyes of twenty different colors fixed on her as she 
moved, but it was the five impassive pairs at the top that 
she knew would be hardest to face. They were the Living 
Ones, the oldest mirari who had survived the longest and 
knew every trick of prospering in the oceans. They guarded 
and guided their people, both spiritually and on the 
migrations around the School's territory, of which the 
Towers were only a part.
    The drifting sharks were silent now, and even the sea 
seemed to hush its continual chorus for a moment. Brin 
swam gamely on toward her penultimate trial for adulthood, 
trying to appear all serene confidence, when she knew very 
well that she wanted to flinch aside and swim for her 
life.
    Abruptly the sea in front of her dissolved in 
brilliant blue and red, bleeding into each other and 
looking almost like the beautiful, deadly sea-flowers on 
the sides of mirror coral. Brin kept swimming, years of 
tales and tradition and simple survival allowing her to do 
no less, but she shook her head slightly. Hallucination? 
Fever-vision brought on by too much excitement?
    Then her father's face appeared briefly, unmistakable 
with its beloved features and the Emblem planted in one 
cheek. He seemed to be staring at something in horror, but 
what it was, Brin did not know. She cared only that his 
eyes were focused beyond her, and in the few sendings he 
had ever given her- as in when he had told her he might be 
able to make it to her Choiladay- he had always looked 
directly at her.
    ^Father?^ she whispered apprehensively, staring at the 
still, horrified face. She knew she wasn't supposed to 
speak during the Initiation; only the Living Ones did 
that, telling her of her new place and duties in the 
community, what border patrol she was assigned to, and so 
on. But her father looked so distressed- and surely no one 
could have heard her mental whisper.
    The image faded, and she was left to imagine 
hallucinations or a sending that had failed. Neither had 
ever happened before, and she was disquieted when she 
finally reached the ring of Living Ones at the top and 
began to circle it, moving slightly faster than they were 
going, touching snouts with each.
    Hamissa, as the oldest present both as an Elwen and a 
Living One- she had seen nineteen of the twenty millennia 
sea Elwens normally saw- spoke first. ^Brin, daughter of 
Tassalia and Falkorno, you are now an adult. Your rank is 
above Sonor and below Teeathi.^
    Brin blinked in surprise. That was quite high in the 
School, really. More than she had expected.
     She bobbed her head in thanks and swam on to Skarn, 
wishing she could be a little more excited about her new 
position. But her disobedient thoughts kept straying back 
to the picture of her father in distress. Was he all 
right? Had he been trying to send to her or was it a 
mistake, caused by the fact that Brin was going to follow 
him as the next Dreamer of Dunyairrin?
    ^Brin, daughter of the sea and the School of the 
Towers, you are now an adult. Your duties are to patrol 
the community and defend it if necessary, defend our 
corallord allies if called upon by the Dreamer, hunt for 
your own food and for others, clean our territory, and 
teach your children the ways and duties of the mirari.^
    Brin hid her disappointment. She had hoped for some 
subtle acknowledgement of her future status as a Dreamer, 
but the deeds were the same ones given to countless others 
initiated as Sisters and Brothers. The Living Ones planned 
an ordinary life for her: caring for herself and the 
community, marrying and having children. It was the same 
way life had been for the last thousand millennia, and 
likely beyond that. Simple, routine, necessary. No one had 
ever questioned it.
    A sudden, small flame in Brin wondered why not. She 
was still wondering as she swam to touch noses with 
Fershella. The Living One spoke in a soft whisper that she 
seemed to think would make the occasion more special.
    ^Brin, daughter of the sea, you are now an adult. You 
will learn the use of your ella and its powers in the 
special company of teachers and young women like yourself. 
You are a woman,^ she added, as if she had to repeat it to 
remind herself.
    Brin nodded, accepting it as everyone accepted the 
decisions of the Living Ones. How could they do less? The 
Living Ones were what the mirari had chosen, and they now 
had to live with it.
    Those new, fiery thoughts that seemed to have awakened 
with her adulthood came back suddenly, and Brin thought 
with a sense of wonder: But things can be changed.
    The other two Living Ones merely spoke blessings upon 
her, reminding her of her place in Elwenkind and in the 
world. Traditionally, the three Living Ones who had 
overseen her childhood and her tutoring were those who 
gave her rank, duties, and teaching. That had never 
changed either.
    Brin was sorry for it, because Living Ones Eshorn and 
Gariaa looked at her almost with sympathy written in their 
diamond-shaped eyes, as if they would have given her a 
better rank and duties. Still, whatever Brin's thoughts 
about change, she had awaited the next part of her 
Choiladay Celebration too long to challenge it.
    Hamissa flowed back into a sea Elwen, an effortless 
transformation accomplished in a heartbeat. "Now," she 
said softly, her hazel eyes reflecting remembered 
eagerness, "hunt!"
    With that simple benediction, they were on their way. 
With a massed mental cheer, the shark forms of the School 
of the Towers left off their circling and headed toward 
the region where the choila bobbed temptingly. All of them 
had waited nearly as long as Brin had to eat, and hunger 
showed clearly in the downward slant of their fins and the 
determined lash of their tails.
    Brin led the School, the one time she would have the 
honor of doing so unless she became a Living One someday. 
That, she knew, wasn't likely. The Living Ones had to be 
people like Teeathi, who cared about the School before 
their own lives or the lives of anyone close to them, who 
were old and wise, who-
    Cared more about survival than life.
    It was a strange thought, but true. So long as the 
School hung on the edge of subsistence and survived, the 
Living Ones did nothing.
    Then Brin's odd, uncomfortable thoughts faded. 
Electricity thrummed through her, picked up by the 
sensitive pits on her snout. The distinctive jerks of a 
wounded fish. Struggling.
    Sea Elwen concerns melted before shark hunger. Brin 
swept herself toward the fish, hopefully a choila, with a 
few powerful sweeps of her tail.
    In moments, she saw the fish ahead, struggling with an 
old wound. It was as brilliantly green as her eyes, 
female, and quite fat. Brin arrowed toward it, aware of 
all eyes on her. This would be the first kill made today.
    Her jaws locked on fish flesh and ripped, and the 
water reddened. The smell of blood incited her, and she 
ripped and tore, at last swallowing the final pieces of 
the fish.
    Silent congratulations echoed in her head, one after 
another. Though she had killed before, this was the first 
time she had done it as an adult. And one of her fish, 
too!
    The choila followed a twenty-year cycle, appearing in 
twenty different colors. Each sex also appeared ten times. 
For some unknown reason, every mirari born in the year of 
a particular choila had eyes the color of that fish's 
scales, and was male or female depending on the fish's 
sex. With typical mirari adaptiveness, the sea Elwens had 
ritualized the connection and given it a meaning all its 
own.
    The lesson droned on by itself in the back of Brin's 
mind, unheeded as she sought fish out by vibrations, 
electric surges, and the smell of blood in the water where 
a Brother or Sister had fed only partially before seeing a 
juicier specimen. When at last she was sated, she relaxed 
enough to note that there were many White Brothers and 
Sisters among the sea Elwens. Other, smaller sharks darted 
through the feeding frenzy, but only a great white was of 
a size and temperament with a mirari in shark form.
    Brin drew to one side and Shifted back to normal. 
Holding her hands out in front of her, she regarded them 
critically. They did not look like the hands of an adult, 
despite the fact that she had gone through Contemplation, 
Initiation, and Hunt exactly as requested.
    Idly, she recalled the reactions of others when they 
had finished- Teeathi, for example, and Sonor had both 
been in tears. They had been certain that adulthood would 
change everything about them, and it had, even though 
Sonor had been assigned the same destiny Brin had and 
Teeathi's had been only slightly different.
    "Brin?"
    Startled, the sea Elwen looked up. Teeathi was 
swimming beside her, studying her curiously. Brin smiled 
in relief; she had thought it might have been one of the 
Living Ones, come to scold her about not going immediately 
to an ella class.
    "Teeathi, why is it that-"
    She didn't get any further. Teeathi's face froze in a 
coolly polite smile, and she said with no expression in 
her voice, "You really ought to address me as Sister 
Teeathi, you know."
    Brin sighed, but nodded obediently. "Yes, Sister 
Teeathi. I was going to ask why everyone seems to get so 
excited about Choiladay."
    Teeathi stared at her as if she had asked why the sea 
moved. Brin wouldn't, of course; that was easy, compared 
to people. "It's Choiladay!" said the older sea Elwen when 
she recovered her powers of speech. "The day when you 
leave childhood behind! The day when you become a blessing 
to the School! The day when-"
    Brin lost herself in it, occasionally nodding at some 
relevant point or making encouraging noises. She had long 
ago learned to pay fanatic attention to lectures on the 
outside, while her mind wandered elsewhere. Teeathi 
lectured as well as a Living One, and on mostly the same 
topics.
    Privately Brin wondered if something were happening to 
her that the Living Ones hadn't explained. Part of her 
rejected that instantly; if the Living Ones were ever 
wrong, they wouldn't have survived to the great age they 
had. But the rebellious part of her captured the thought 
and tugged it in like a jellyfish with captured prey.
    Her magic had awakened within her last night. Suppose 
other things had, too? She had been looking forward to 
becoming an adult for a long time. Having it be less than 
expected could release such disappointment.
    Teeathi reached the end of her lecture and looked at 
her triumphantly. Brin couldn't tell her she hadn't really 
been paying attention. She nodded and smiled, and the 
older mirari swept back toward the Towers.
    After a moment, Brin followed, but not out of any 
desire for her friend's company. They would be migrating 
to the Clouds soon, and she had to make sure she was ready 
to move. Besides, she wanted the privacy of her room for a 
little while.
    When she got into it, she examined the food and the 
net that would contain it, folding back the webs on her 
hands briefly to weave a few more strands of weed more 
securely back into the net. Then she began to swim slowly 
about the room, hoping her posture conveyed such intense 
thought to any who might come by outside that no one would 
disturb her.
    What, exactly, was she disappointed about? She had 
expected no different duties from what would had been 
assigned to her. They could have mentioned she would be a 
Dreamer, yes, but perhaps that was obscured by the same 
old superstition Teeathi was so afraid of: that mentioning 
the cessation of Dreaming would bring it about.
    She swam upside down, effortlessly, a few feet from 
the ceiling of the room, eyes half-closed.
    She had hoped for- more. That they would tell her her 
responsibilities in more detail, or that her new 
privileges would be spelled out. That she knew those 
privileges already, and that they expected her to know 
them, was no comfort. She had wanted something more- more-
    She flipped right side up abruptly and swam to the 
middle of the room.
    More spiritual! Yes. Every part of the ritual- even 
the invocation of the moons- was connected to survival in 
some way. Begging wisdom from supposed heavenly powers to 
aid her was simply that, begging.
    It didn't feel right.
    After a moment, Brin sighed and threw up her hands in 
frustration. Even if it wasn't right, there might not be 
anything she could do about it. Her people- and any other 
Schools beyond the ones she knew- had behaved this way for 
hundreds of thousands of years. A single person squeaking 
defiance at something that old wouldn't be heeded.
    A voice in her thoughts whispered that that was the 
kind of thing she was trying to change, but Brin didn't 
hear it. She had drifted into disconsolate sleep.
----------------------------------------------------------
    A tap from a fin woke her. Brin opened her eyes and 
halted her circling, turning with a polite bow to the one 
who had accosted her.
    It was Sonor, a young woman Brin liked well enough but 
considered flighty. Now she looked anything but flighty, 
however. She was in shark form, which meant a hunt or a 
patrol. Considering her presence here and the downward 
slant of her fins, it was the latter.
    Brin nodded in understanding and Shifted. It seemed to 
come to her more easily now, but whether through adulthood 
magic or after wearing it so long earlier, she didn't 
know.
    Side by side, the sharks swam to where the rest of 
their patrol, three young females slightly older than 
Brin, waited. Sonor signaled them with her tail, and they 
fell into line, passing through the electrified water- 
fence and into the open sea.
    Brin put aside thoughts of her beating heart and fear, 
and concentrated on her senses and the water around her. 
The sea was dangerous, incredibly dangerous, beyond the 
protected boundaries of School territory. Brin knew that, 
but she couldn't help staring in wonder as well. 
    This was the first time she had ever been out so far; 
even her solitary excursions with her father had not been 
beyond limits. The sea seemed different here, charged with 
life, though most of it kept away from five sharks 
swimming in formation. Fish glowed and darted through the 
water singly or in gleaming silver schools; eels showed 
off their softly brilliant colors before heading back to 
rock crevices; a diving bird, down unusually far, eyed 
them and then popped back to the surface. Brin didn't even 
mind the pilot fish that soon came up to hover just out of 
reach of her jaws or the remora that hitched a ride on her 
belly. They would get off soon enough when they passed 
back inside the fence.
    They swept a wide circle, from a rock shaped like a 
clam to a real clam to a small bed of weed, and back 
toward the Towers, Though not exactly relaxed, Brin and 
her companions were no longer paranoid. They had seen 
nothing that threatened the School.
    Abruptly, however, a sleek shape darted in front of 
them, and punishing teeth tried to scrape a row down 
Brin's flank. Her keen sense of smell telling her exactly 
what it was, Brin turned upward.
    The seal circled just above them, sneering down. They 
hated sharks for some reason, though they weren't actually 
favored prey of most who lived in these waters. They also 
weren't intelligent, could cut down on the food supply if 
allowed to remain in the area, and could be even more 
pesky than remoras.
    In other words, fair game.
    Brin was aware of the others falling back, not exactly 
deferring to her, but letting her have first crack at this 
would-be tormentor. A grim humor filled her as she swam 
upwards. Being an adult did indeed mean responsibilities.
    The seal darted in close, then danced away again. It 
was a young, foolish male; if she didn't kill it, someone 
else surely would. Therefore, as she thrust her upper jaw 
away from her head, Brin lamented only that she couldn't 
eat her fill. With her stomach full, this attack would be 
for defense, not food.
    The creature continued circling, inquisitive and not 
thinking she could move fast. She hadn't been up until 
now, after all.
    But sharks could sprint, and Brin did it now, closing 
in on the terrified creature before he could rise to the 
surface. Her open jaws closed on one trailing flipper, 
biting again and again until her mouth was full. Then she 
swallowed on reflex, and decided happily that yes, she did 
have room for more food.
    The water was a ruby cloud of blood by now, and the 
seal must know it had no chance of survival. It made for 
the surface- only to run into the jaws of Sonor and the 
rest of the School, who hadn't fed as well as Brin on 
choila.
    While the others finished the creature, Brin swam 
upward, until her head broke the surface. Eyes refocusing 
with difficulty in the light, she scanned the water for 
any sign of the seal's traveling companions. Their patrol 
could handle another five, or even ten, but a full-scale 
invasion would have to be reported to the School.
    Nothing. The sea lay flat and shimmering under the 
light of a sun a few hours past noon. Whatever had 
happened to separate the young seal from his pod hadn't 
attracted any others.
    With a flip of her tail, Brin dove again and sculled 
through the water toward Sonor, who was just finishing 
swallowing. ^Nothing to report, Sister Sonor,^ she said in 
her best imitation of an experienced patroller's tones. ^I 
saw no other seals.^
    ^Good job, looking like that,^ Sonor approved with a 
nod. Her fins were slowly rising out of the dangerous 
stage; with one enemy just so messily destroyed and their 
nearness to home, alertness wasn't so needed. ^The Living 
Ones will have to be informed of the seal, but they will 
also receive a good report of you.^
    Brin raised her fins in thanks and even managed to 
pause in her swimming for a moment, though it was severely 
uncomfortable. A warm glow seemed to suffuse her at 
Sonor's praise. Perhaps living an ordinary life as a 
patroller and denizen of the School wouldn't be so boring 
after all.
----------------------------------------------------------
    "And, in conclusion, Living Ones, I would like to say 
that..."
    All right, perhaps it would be boring, Brin thought, 
frustrated. She cast a surreptitious glance at the other 
women of her patrol group, trying to read their emotions 
from their eyes.
    She could not. They swam slowly, as was necessary to 
breathe, eyes fixed obediently on the three female and two 
male Living Ones. Nothing showed on those scaled faces but 
absolute devotion and interest in what Sonor was saying.
    With a soft sigh, Brin tried to imitate them, though 
she would have liked to examine the corners of the Council 
Chamber, the biggest cave in the Towers. The red-gold rock 
was carved with grooves and shelves, pictures of sea- 
creatures, and long, long lines of writing that seemed to 
march on and on. Brin's father had told her once that much 
of the history of their School was written here, but only 
Living Ones and those specially invited were ever 
permitted to look at it.
    To Brin, that seemed to defeat the purpose. Most of 
the School was content to exist from day to day without 
worrying overmuch about the past, so why preserve the past 
if you hid it away?
    Sonor cleared her throat impatiently, and Brin turned 
hastily toward her. To her confusion, the older Sister was 
holding out her scaled hand as if in invitation.
    Brin swam hesitatingly toward the dais where the 
Living Ones circled slowly and majestically, wondering if 
she could have mistaken the signal. But no, Sonor was 
smiling at her and the Living Ones were doing their best 
to crack their stiff old faces in beams of approval. Brin 
bowed her head, both in respect and to hide her giggle at 
how unnatural a beam appeared for Living One Hamissa.
    "Younger Sister," Living One Fershella said grandly, 
"Sister Sonor has told us of your exploits. We are 
prepared to grant you exemption from patrols for two 
days."
    Brin looked up in surprise, wondering if Sonor had 
exaggerated. "I am very grateful, Living Ones," she 
managed at last, "but surely you need-"
    "No," Living One Hamissa interrupted in tones that 
Brin didn't feel like contradicting. "You have done 
exceptionally well for one who has so recently left a 
mischievous childhood. Enjoy this freedom, and practice 
your magic as you will. An ella teacher is coming from a 
nearby School to teach our young women in a few days' 
time, but until then we have no formal classes."
    "Thank you, Living Ones," Brin managed before she was 
hurried out by Sonor. The governors of the School were 
already turning to hear the reports of the next patrol, a 
trio of young males. Brin was just as grateful. She didn't 
want to push her luck.
    Still, she wasn't sure what to do with her unexpected 
freedom. She left the company of the other patrol members 
as soon as politely possible- they only wanted to talk 
about the migration to the Clouds and the new ella 
teacher- and swam out and away from the Towers, to the 
boundary of the water-fence.
    It glittered and sparkled when one looked at it from 
the corner of one's eye, a random fusillade of amber 
sparks, but disappeared when she turned her head to regard 
it directly. Brin did not understand how it worked, other 
than frying any creatures other than sea Elwens, sharks, 
fish, and turtles that passed it. If the understanding of 
ella was beyond males, the understanding of male magic was 
likewise beyond women.
    After a few moments, she slipped through it and into 
the open waters once more. It was dangerous, incredibly 
dangerous, but she felt rebellious. Besides, she had her 
magic at her command if seriously threatened.
    And she wanted to see the wonders that surrounded her 
without having to be constantly on the alert for something 
that threatened the School or any of her companions.
    Prudent mirari took the form of sharks when beyond the 
water-fences, but Brin defiantly remained a sea Elwen, 
finding her first excuse for such behavior when a trio of 
dolphins accosted her. They would never have done that if 
she were in shark form; the instincts on both sides were 
too strong.
    "Sister!" chittered the dolphins- a sure sign they 
were in a good mood, despite the nervous undertone to 
their clicks. They would have called her sea Elwen or 
worse if they were feeling aggressive.
    "Yes?" she asked, politely speaking their language, 
though they understood the musical sea Elwen tongue well 
enough. When their blunt request was presented, however, 
she had to wonder if she had misunderstood.
    "Tell your pet shark to go away!"
    Brin blinked, puzzled. Why would a strange shark be in 
these waters? That it was a stranger, she did not doubt. 
Dolphins were intelligent and knew the kinds of Brothers 
that lived in the area, if often through tragedy.
    But it was also curious that the shark had made no 
contact with her School. Normally sharks were drawn to sea 
Elwens like ordinary fish to anglerfish.
    "It's not a pet," she assured the dolphins. "And we 
know of no strange sharks in the area."
    This led to nervous circles and tumbles; one dolphin 
went so far as to go to the top of the water and leap, a 
visual message to any distant comrades. Brin waited 
impatiently. In her eyes, dolphins could take an hour to 
convey a one-word message.
    "We don't know what kind it is," said one older female 
who spoke with the minimum of politeness. She kept eying 
Brin, and when the sea Elwen saw the parallel shark-scars 
on her side, she understood. "It's bigger than the 
terrors, and it's better camouflaged, and it swims 
silently. We never hear it coming. It pops up from below 
and eats the calves! It's killed three so far."
    Brin whistled softly. Bigger than a great white, and a 
meat-eater? Usually the great sharks ate the millions of 
tiny animals that floated in the water.
    "Describe its colors to me," she directed.
    "Not it," cut in a young male dolphin, perhaps the old 
female's near-grown calf. "He. We could tell that right 
away. And he's bluish-green, with a white belly." 
    There was a prompt chorus of protesting whistles. "Not 
so!" the older female proclaimed, swishing her tail back 
and forth to emphasize the point. "When I saw him, he was 
red-and-blue- the perfect color to blend into sunset 
water. He took my neighbor's calf," she added softly, 
eying Brin's most obvious resemblances to a shark- scales 
and gill slits- with acute dislike.
    "You're wrong," countered a young female, the one who 
had leaped at the surface to bring attention. "I saw him  
for sure, I tell you, and he was white-gray, with blue- 
green colors to blend in with the sea-grass!"
    They were still arguing with each other, and cavorting 
around a sorely puzzled Brin, when the argument was 
effectively silenced.
    The shark himself put in an appearance.
    Brin had been aware of the approach of a large fish 
for some time, but her smell and electric surge readers 
had automatically dismissed him as neither prey nor 
predator, and so of no interest. Not so for the dolphins. 
They gave a series of panicked squeaks, and scattered.
    The shark paid them no attention. He shot past Brin 
with a grace and speed remarkable considering his fifty- 
foot bulk, then turned around with one swish of his tail 
and circled her. As the dolphins said, he swam silently, 
uttering no telltale sounds. His blue-green color was 
perfectly suited to blend in with the water about them.
    Too perfectly suited. Brin frowned. From the 
conflicting tales, she suspected that the shark had color- 
shifting magic. The only problem was, she had been taught 
about all the Brothers and Sisters, and none of them did 
that.
    The shark continued his circling about her, not 
closing in to nudge as some Brothers did as a prelude to 
biting, nor fleeing as a shark would do when frightened. 
Brin swam the inner circle along with him, utterly 
unafraid. She felt a kinship she couldn't explain 
radiating from him like heat from the sun, and knew he 
wouldn't attack. Therefore, she was determined to stay 
until she had solved the mystery.
    For perhaps the hundredth time, the shark circled her, 
then stopped. He seemed to be concentrating.
    A moment later, the immense shark was gone. A perfect 
copy of Brin herself floated before her, clear as an image 
in mirror coral, green eyes and white silk-scale gown 
duplicated to the last gleam and thread.
    Brin's mouth fell open. Her image, thankfully, did not 
mimic the movement, but merely stood watching her.
    A moment later, the psuedo-sea Elwen vanished, and the 
shark was back. This time, however, he shone brilliantly 
in the water. Brin had no doubt these were his true 
colors- a pale, pure white that rivaled her pearls, 
streaked delicately with sunset-pink on the flanks- and 
that he was showing them to her as a sign of good will.
    And these colors she did know.
    A corallord.
    She had resented them silently all her life for 
keeping her father so often and so far away, even though 
she would presumably become Dreamer to them someday. But 
seeing this shark like this, in this moment, she could 
understand what had led her people to ally with them long 
ago. Stricken with awe at the beauty and power of this 
shark, this creature that could challenge an orcan whale, 
Brin stared in silence.
    A moment later, the shining colors dimmed to blue- 
green again. Brin held up her hands in a submissive 
gesture and paddled closer, wanting desperately to talk to 
the huge male. Surely he must have come from Dunyairrin; 
there were no other corallord settlements within miles.
    Then the eye fell on her, and she forgot everything 
else.
    It was not a flat, dull hole like the eyes of most 
sharks. It was a portal into a land of living gold, where 
knowledge beyond the millennia of sea Elwen existence 
swam. It gleamed with warmth and life and intelligence, 
and told her beyond all doubt that the shark she faced was 
as much a person as her or Teeathi or any other sea Elwen. 
Perhaps more.
    It also told her that the corallord could not speak- 
not aloud. She would have to wait until she inherited her 
father's Sign for that.
    One moment more of gazing, and then Brin's hand was 
rising to touch the rough scales on the top of the head.
    The shark swished away smoothly and swam with 
heartbreaking grace to the edge of her vision. One moment 
he swam in a circle, looking at her as if to stamp her 
features in memory.
    Then he was gone, leaving an empty space behind him. 
Brin could not hear him, but thought she would know beyond 
doubt if he had remained in the vicinity. There was a 
presence when he was near that seemed to have added a 
ninth sense to her repertoire, a sense that was awareness 
of him and of nothing else.
    Slowly, normal sensation flooded back, replacing awe 
and near reverence. Brin licked her lips. So that was a 
corallord. She could almost understand why her father had 
dedicated his life to Dreaming for them- whatever 
mysterious service that was. There was something about 
that one that compelled- more than respect, awe. More than 
awe, love.
    The dolphins came back to Brin, pestering her with 
questions, but she shook them off and swam on alone. 
Returning to the School's territory in such an abstracted 
mood was sure to earn her questions. She wanted to keep 
the meeting with the corallord to herself, and so it would 
be best to stay out here until the stunned wonder wore 
off.
    Reminders of reality returned all too soon. Brin had 
swum about a mile from the School's boundaries when she 
caught a scent that was unfamiliar to her, and yet too 
familiar for her liking. She halted, staring at the water 
as she used her other senses to determine the possible 
nearness of such creatures.
    She found none. Either this orcan whale scent was old, 
or the creatures had swum only this close to the School 
territory before turning around and heading back. Still, 
she didn't like it. The orcans, powerful and evil, were 
nightmares come to life for almost any creature in the 
sea. There were times they killed for pleasure, not food. 
The Living Ones had to be told.
    Brin turned and hurried back, a mirari again, her eyes 
scanning every section of the sea- even below her- for 
danger.
----------------------------------------------------------
    The Living Ones listened to her news in silence; it 
was so severe that they didn't even scold her for going 
beyond the School's boundaries unescorted. Better to 
commit a minor indiscretion and learn about danger through 
it than to have the danger come down on you when you were 
helpless.
    Living One Hamissa at last spoke when Brin paused for 
breath. "We should delay our migration to the Clouds for 
at least two days, then. Thank you for this news, Brin. 
You are a credit to the School."
    It was the highest praise a Living One could give, but 
Brin was too weary to murmur more than an ordinary thank 
you. She also didn't agree with the Living Ones. She would 
have been a credit to her School if she had stayed and 
found out more about the danger, instead of swimming to 
the Living Ones at the first possible moment like a 
frightened child.
    With a last longing look at the writing in the Council 
Chamber, she bowed and swam out of the room, heading for 
her own. Not sleep, perhaps, but rest was her goal. Mirari 
never slept completely, anyway, as they had to keep 
swimming.
    She was almost to her room when the water filled with 
red and blue light again. Not sure if she feared 
hallucinations or a failed sending more, Brin swam in a 
circle but kept alert.
    A moment later, her father's face flashed and 
flickered before her, almost too swiftly for her to 
recognize him. In one hand, he held out something small 
toward her. His eyes were most definitely focused on her 
this time, and they pleaded for her to take it.
    Wonderingly, Brin reached for the object, but expected 
to meet only light and water. Sendings were of sound, not 
physical objects-
    There was a sound from the sending very like a snarl, 
and the image of her father vanished- not, however, before 
Brin's hand closed on a small but very real object. She 
had not yet opened her hand to see what it was when the 
world exploded in pain.
    Brin screamed for help in the wordless language of 
sharks and their kin, tossing her head as cold stabbed to 
the heart of her being. She tried to swim, but it seemed 
something unseen bound her legs like the tendrils of a 
jellyfish. She knew a moment of pure panic as the water 
stopped moving through her gill slits and she started to 
suffocate.
    Then strong arms caught her and a horrified voice 
whispered her name, but she was already gone.




                        Chapter 2
                         The Sign
    Shaking, Brin returned to consciousness. She recalled 
the pain, and shuddered. She had never felt anything like 
it in her life, and never wanted to again.
    She became aware that one hand hurt, and slowly 
unfolded her fingers from whatever lay in it. Her breath 
caught, and her head and heart began to resound with the 
same dull, certain pain.
    In her palm was her father's Sign, the little shark 
made of coral. She had clutched it so tightly that bits of 
white and pink coral had come off on her fingers. She 
smoothed them gently back into place, still staring at 
what was causing her pain.
    The silvery chain that secured the Sign about the 
wearer's throat was shattered. She certainly hadn't done 
that. This had been taken from her father by force, or-
    It had torn itself free because he was dead.
    Tears came, though they were immediately washed away 
by the water. She wept quietly for a long time, circling 
with her face to the wall. Personal relationships weren't 
supposed to be as important to sea Elwens as the defense 
of the School, and no one who saw her weeping would 
understand, as her father had been even more distant than 
most.
    At last, she lifted her head and shoved two of the 
broken links of chain back together, then hung the Sign 
over her neck. As it settled by her heart, she felt a 
strange, quiet warmth and resolve fill her. There was 
fear, certainly- whatever Dreamers did was important, 
important enough to have made the aloof corallords ally 
with her people long ago. She had no idea what that was, 
and had always counted on receiving some training and 
explanation from her father. But if she couldn't, she 
would travel to Dunyairrin and seek out the corallords, 
and try to be the best Dreamer she could anyway.
    Her hand went to her cheek, where the Emblem now was. 
It would have transferred itself to the appointed heir, 
like the Sign, on the death of its owner. Her father had 
told her that the Sign allowed the Dreamer to communicate 
with the corallords; the Emblem told the mighty sharks 
they faced a true Dreamer.
    Her hand brushed across smooth scales. The Emblem was 
not there.
    Brin stared at her hands as if they had betrayed her 
for a moment. In a way, they had. A great and disquieting 
sense of wrong was opening in her like a sea-flower.
    If her father were alive, why was the Sign here? If he 
were dead, why was the Emblem not?
    Brin stared at her hands for a moment more, then 
looked down at the Sign. It seemed to send another soft 
warm pulse through her, a twin to her own heartbeat, but 
it did not offer an answer.
    The simplest solution was that her father had sent the 
Sign to her, but some enemy had interrupted his sending 
before he could likewise rip free the Emblem. That didn't 
make sense, though. No Dreamer ever surrendered his or her 
Sign except to the appointed heir on the point of death- 
that much he had told her- after which the Emblem 
automatically followed.
    It was a paradox, which by definition couldn't exist. 
Life under the sea was smooth, straightforward. You either 
lived another day, or you didn't.
    Brin turned and swam for the entrance of her room. 
Though she disliked it, sometimes the only solution was to 
go and see the Living Ones.
----------------------------------------------------------
    Hamissa listened to her story, then turned and began 
to converse busily with her fellow Living Ones. After 
waiting a few polite minutes, Brin swam over to the other 
side of the room, deep in thought.
    She could almost predict what they would decide. She 
was too young to venture out on her own, especially as far 
as Dunyairrin, perhaps a hundred miles of open water away. 
An adult she might be, but she still had to act for the 
good of the School.
    A Dreamer was free to do as she or he chose if such an 
action served the corallords. Brin imagined that the 
mighty sharks must be worried. Perhaps they had sent one 
of their number to this area for that very reason-
    -Save that how would they know of the death of their 
Dreamer before it happened?
    Brin shook her head impatiently. Too many mysteries, 
too many riddles that couldn't exist and yet did. Things 
that made no sense. She would prefer to find someone who 
could make them make sense, rather than solve them 
herself.
    Still, if she had to, she would. In her mind, the 
young sea Elwen freely acknowledged that she might have 
felt differently had she not see the corallord. But she 
had, and fair was fair. She should at least try to be a 
Dreamer for those magnificent creatures before giving up, 
even if something seemed determined to prevent her.
    She glanced over her shoulder at where the Living Ones 
debated.
    Or someone.
    "Sister Brin!" Hamissa called peremptorily. "We have 
decided."
    Brin swam back, doing her best to hide her resolve 
behind a meek mask. "Yes, Living One Hamissa?"
    "Dreamers are precious, and so are young mirari. You 
are both, if not fully trained in one yet." She bestowed a 
smile that only bid Brin to be warier. "You have not yet 
learned the use of your magic, or even what a Dreamer 
does. We have heard that a Living One in a School nearby 
is also a Dreamer, and knows more of this then we do. 
Until such time as he arrives, we will keep that relic for 
you." She extended her hand for the Sign.
    Brin folded her hand about the little coral shark, but 
did not lift it from her neck. In a voice she didn't 
recognize as her own, she said, "No."
    Living One Hamissa stared. It seemed to be so long 
since she had heard the word that she didn't recognize it. 
"Sister Brin," she said at last, with dangerous 
gentleness, "you heard me. We are far older and wiser than 
one who has just passed out of childhood. Give it to me."
    Brin, inwardly both thrilled and appalled at her own 
defiance, shook her head. She was breathing faster now.
    Hamissa tipped her head and cocked one finger. A long, 
smooth shape exploded from one of the darker corners of 
the Council Chamber and sped toward Brin.
    Instinct told the young woman what to do. The Living 
One wouldn't hurt another sea Elwen if she could help it, 
and the Sign was quite capable of taking care of itself. 
Therefore, Brin placed the Sign on her flattened palm and 
held it out toward the barracuda, serenely and quietly 
confident in a way she couldn't quite believe.
    Sure enough, the barracuda only tried to close its 
teeth on the Sign and jerk it away. Brin tensed, 
anticipating that having the Sign bitten would be like 
having her own heart bitten.
    She didn't anticipate the angry burst of white light 
that flared to life about the Sign, sending the barracuda 
tumbling end over end, and minus several teeth. 
Incredulous, Brin eyed the bloody marks on its muzzle, 
then lowered her eyes to the Sign.
    It looked quite normal, save that for the merest 
moment Brin thought the little shark's teeth showed. No; 
its mouth was quite definitely closed.
    She clasped it close to her, feeling it warm her and 
begin beating calmly in time with her heart again. The 
barracuda circled, eying her warily, then retreated back 
to its corner of the room.
    Lifting her eyes to the Living Ones, Brin suddenly 
frowned in suspicion. Skarn and Fershella were shaking 
their heads forbiddingly at Hamissa, and gentle Gariaa was 
telling the chief Living One, "Don't be foolish. It's 
already attuned, and so to take it away would mean her 
death- if we could take it away at all."
    "I thought you said you knew nothing about Dreaming or 
the Sign?" Brin asked in cool tones.
    "No," answered Gariaa, the Living One Brin had always 
liked best. "We simply know less about it than the Living 
One coming from another School." She paused, and her eyes 
were pleading. "Dreamer, for such you are though young, we 
cannot tell you. If such information should ever come to 
the ears of the deeplords-"
    Brin licked her lips, for a moment as chilled as 
Gariaa looked. The deeplords, evil sharks living in the 
black part of the ocean called the Fathoms, had dedicated 
themselves long ago to destroying the corallords and their 
sea Elwen allies. No one knew why.
    After a moment, though, Brin pushed aside her fear. 
"My promise that none of it will go beyond this room."
    Gariaa hesitated, looking anguished, but Hamissa cut 
in. "No, Gariaa. You know that. Better to have one fish 
eaten than the whole School taken."
    Brin's chill deepened. The proverb Hamissa quoted was 
an often-used one; the mirari had to endure many small 
losses under the sea, and constantly gave thanks they 
weren't bigger. But Hamissa seemed to be saying that, in 
this case, better one person die than the corallords.
    Her suspicions were confirmed a moment later when 
normally silent Eshorn suddenly roared, "Damn you, 
Hamissa, the loss of their Dreamer will hurt the 
corallords more than any information that might come to 
the ears of their enemies!"
    "Question me not, Eshorn. It is the law." Hamissa 
turned to look at Brin with eyes as pitiless as a great 
white's. "You will be confined, Younger Sister, until we 
leave for the Clouds, and then after the migration. If you 
think to try and escape, know that we alone can keep the 
Sign, separated from the Emblem, from slowly killing you."
    Brin hissed. "Why?" she asked at last. 
    Hamissa tipped her head at the lack of title, but 
answered without hesitation. "Because the Sign and the 
Emblem are bound together by the magic of the Dreamer. 
Apart, they suffer like two cracked halves of a clam. They 
are too powerful apart, and will slowly kill their 
wielder. We have the knowledge to keep that from 
happening."
    Brin slammed her hands together. The Sign warmed up a 
bit more. but this time even the second heartbeat did not 
soothe her. "Why not just tell me, stars curse you?"
    "The knowledge is too precious. We can make no 
exception." Hamissa nodded to someone out of Brin's line 
of vision.
    Before she could turn around, strong arms gripped her 
and tied her own arms together behind her back. They swam 
her back to her room, the captive mirari struggling and 
calling curses on the Living Ones all the way.
----------------------------------------------------------
    Brin swam in a circle around her room, calm and quiet 
on the outside. It would do no good to show her guards- a 
young male named Numain and Teeathi, the treacherous 
Teeathi- that she was still horribly angry.
    Inside, she seethed. The fury seemed to be only 
partially her own, as though it had been drifting through 
the ocean looking for a host, like a lamprey, and latched 
onto her. Thoughts that would have been unthinkable only a 
few days before churned along with her emotions.
    Though the Living Ones didn't know it, what they were 
doing was evil. No one whom Brin told would have believed 
it. The Living Ones acted only for the good of the School. 
No one that self-sacrificing could be evil.
    And, in any case, they were the Living Ones, as 
Teeathi had reminded her sternly, and couldn't be wrong.
    But in the circumstances, sacrifice itself was an 
evil. Almost the only clue she'd gained from her 
conversation on Dreaming with the Living Ones- other than 
Gariaa's mysterious comment on attuning- was the sure fact 
that the corallords would be in danger without a Dreamer. 
And still the Living Ones, bound by tradition and their 
conviction that she simply couldn't act on her own, 
delayed her and refused to tell her anything.
    The Dreamer from the other School still hadn't 
arrived, and today they were migrating. If he came, he 
would have to search twice as hard to find them.
    Brin, knowing there was nothing much she could do 
right now- Numain and Teeathi waited discreetly out of 
sight, but would be on her in a moment if she tried to 
leave the Towers- turned to the one distraction she had. 
Touching the ella on the surface, where it was nighttime 
and the stars shone, she brought it down to her level and 
began to sculpt illusions with it.
    A life-sized duplicate of the corallord shark became a 
string of pearls became a copy of Hamissa swimming up in 
surprise as a large shark bit her on the bottom. Brin's 
smile swiftly faded into a sigh. The illusion toys were 
just that- toys. The magic couldn't help her to escape, 
for any illusion she crafted to help her would be seen 
through in a minute by another woman.
    "Sister Brin?" It was Numain, inclining his head 
politely. Seeing the net slung over his tunicked shoulder, 
Brin knew his message before he spoke it. "The migration 
to the Clouds begins. Gather your possessions. Sister 
Teeathi will swim on one side of you, I on the other."
    Brin nodded glumly and went to the shelf where her net 
lay. She draped its strings around her neck, an innovation 
that would almost certainly earn her frowns from the 
Living Ones. She didn't care; she preferred to have both 
arms free when she swam, although the replacement of the 
silk-scale gown by a scaled tunic and leggings helped.
    She swam tamely enough to the entrance and let Numain 
and Teeathi take their places on her sides. When she 
escaped- not if- it would be without hurting her people in 
the process. They were only following the orders of the 
Living Ones. It wasn't anyone's fault.
    Despite herself, she knew a slight sense of elation 
when the School assembled, with herself in an adult 
position. The migrations the mirari made about every three 
moon-growths to keep from overhunting one corner of their 
territory were beautiful, graceful things, the normally 
solitary-swimming sea Elwens drawn all together.
    The water was filled with the flick of auralight from 
shimmering blue-green scales, off hair every shade of 
violet or blue or green, and in eyes twenty different 
colors. The adults wore the tunics and leggings that were 
commonplace wear except in special ceremonies, the scale- 
cloth easily blending with them when they Shifted to 
shark. The children darted naked through their larger 
kindred, shrieking with uninhibited delight.
    Brin had expected to feel wistful about that, but she 
didn't. For the first time she could remember, she had a 
driving purpose in life, something that focused her inside 
to a single determined point. She was a child no longer.
    The Living Ones swam to take their places at the head 
of the slowly circling mirari. When they did, the School 
would straighten and be off.
    Brin looked back at the Towers in farewell; she was 
confident she would escape before she saw them again. A 
slight shiver told her she might never see them again, but 
she forced the thought away.
    "Let us be off!" Living One Hamissa called musically. 
The Living Ones fell into ranks behind her, and the more 
ordinary mirari followed.
    Brin found herself gradually relaxing as she swam 
between Teeathi and Numain, though she remained alert, as 
did every other member of the School. Swimming in company 
was so different from swimming alone as to inspire no 
comparison; one had to be alert every moment for danger to 
any member, from all four sides. Though a few male sea 
Elwens lived their lives traveling the fence and repairing 
its magic, they couldn't be everywhere at once, and every 
now and then the barrier would weaken enough to let 
something through.
    No danger threatened the massed mirari, however, as 
they swooped like an undulating snake through the water, 
over beds of silver-blue sea-grass and small coral reefs, 
with scouts regularly popping to the surface to look 
about. Gradually, they descended a little, so that when 
the sun returned to the surface the aqua light it created 
was a little less bright than normal.
    "Remember," Teeathi whispered harshly, startling Brin. 
They had swum in silence for hours, save for the distant 
chant of the Living Ones, singing the monotonous tune that 
kept the diverse School members in rhythm. "The Living 
Ones are to be obeyed. They may release you after we reach 
the Clouds, if you'll only give up this ridiculous plan of 
yours."
    Brin turned sad eyes on the older woman, wondering 
where her playful friend of some years earlier had swum 
off to. "Teeathi, the corallords need their Dreamers. I 
have to go to them."
    "You're not a Dreamer!" Teeathi said harshly. Arguing 
was considered the height of bad manners, but she kept on, 
apparently too passionate to abandon the subject. "You 
don't have the Emblem."
    "And that makes me any less a Dreamer?" Brin cupped 
the coral shark around her neck. "What makes a Dreamer, do 
you think, Teeathi: the resolve to become a good one, or a 
picture of a shark?"
    "The corallords won't accept you even if you do go to 
them," the older mirari said spitefully after a moment. 
Apparently hearing the tone of her own voice, she paused 
again before continuing. "They're too wary of those 
pretending to be Dreamers. You have to have the Sign and 
the Emblem."
    Brin's heart sped as she had sped toward the seal 
three days ago, but she didn't let it show. For Teeathi to 
know such things, she must have been receiving 
instructions from the Living Ones. Though she disliked 
using her friend in this way, the self-appointed Dreamer 
had to know. "Really? You're not making this up?" She let 
a bit of doubt slip into her voice.
    Teeathi rose to the bait; she was too proud of her 
future status not to. "I'm learning things as a Living      
One-in-training that most mirari can only dream of," she 
bragged proudly. "I even know what Dreamers do, and I know 
our history." She twisted slightly to look down her nose 
at Brin. "You wouldn't believe some of the things our 
School has fought its way through."
    Brin let her attention be pulled to this. She was 
interested in it anyway, and it was quite obvious Teeathi 
couldn't be tricked into outright telling her what 
Dreamers did. "Why do we keep our history secret? That's 
what I don't understand."
    "Only the Living Ones need to know it," said Teeathi- 
a bit pompously, the younger woman felt. "Only they- we 
make decisions. We can learn from the past, so that if we 
face the same danger again, we'll know how to conquer it."
    Brin nodded and tried to look impressed. In her humble 
opinion, any ordinary mirari could decide when to migrate 
or how to deal with danger as well as a Living One, but 
Teeathi might well faint dead away if she said that.
    Luckily, her friend didn't notice Brin's falsity of 
expression; she was off on her favorite topic again, 
lecturing on the wisdom of Living Ones and how well Brin 
could do if she obeyed them. Brin and Numain- who, when 
she looked at him, seemed as bored as she- suffered 
through the rest of the swim in silence.
----------------------------------------------------------
    The Clouds were a phenomenon unique to the School's 
territory, as far as Brin knew. She'd certainly never 
heard about anything like them anywhere else.
    They were a patch of sea-grass- ordinary enough, if 
unusually tall and luxuriant. It was their color that was 
strange and had earned them their name. This grass was 
softly, impossibly white, so white it filled the water 
with a pale light up to the radius of a mile. It also 
exuded a faint heat, making the water comfortable enough 
for a sea Elwen, and was deadly poisonous to most types of 
fish. Combining the virtues of comfort, light, and natural 
shelter, the Clouds was a treasure, the favorite part of 
the territory for many members of the School.
    Almost the instant they reached the edge of the white 
light, the School broke up- some forming into border 
patrols to scan the area just in case, some changing into 
sharks and swimming off to hunt, but most going to 
investigate the small patches of the Clouds that they 
claimed as their homes. Brin was one of these, accompanied 
by her determined guards.
    As she ducked into a tunnel of pale whiteness leading 
at last to the home her parents had created, she noted the 
intense boredom on Numain's face and felt a spark of hope. 
Possibly- just possibly- if she escaped, he wouldn't come 
after her. Teeathi would, but Brin was more than a match 
for any one of her kind. Two together were a problem.
    What had she to lose?
    They were isolated in the tunnel now; some other 
corridors connected to it, but they had already branched 
off. Only Brin and her guards swam here, and the grass, 
which obligingly stayed in place once bent and was quite 
thick, would muffle any calls for help.
    She had been swimming languidly for a long time, 
conserving her strength. Now she used that strength in a 
smooth dive downward, out from between her two guards.
    There was a moment of silence, then the sound of two 
sea Elwens accelerating after her. Brin nodded approvingly 
as she sped still faster. Numain would have to make some 
kind of elementary effort, of course, or risk looking like 
a co-conspirator.
    Down she went, twisting her body sharply and spinning 
to the side as the tunnel bent and curved. At the end of 
this was her chamber, with illusion-defenses still in 
place and a secret back exit. Teeathi would be able to 
overcome the first, but not without difficulty, for 
Numain, as a male, would not be able to see through them. 
And any mirari, even one of the Living Ones, would have to 
search for hours to find the other exit, which her father 
had used to slip out of the Clouds without disturbing his 
wife and daughter.
    Faster and faster now; she would long since have been 
in total darkness if not for the pallor of the grass. 
Teeathi was shouting for help now, but even Brin, scarcely 
a few hundred feet ahead, could hardly hear her. Others 
certainly wouldn't be able to.
    Laughing, dizzy with triumph, she spun through the 
entrance and wove her hands in the dazzling pattern that 
signaled the illusion-magic, the pattern her mother had 
taught her so that she could use it when she came into her 
own magic. Of course, Tassalia, Brin's lovely and loving 
but very proper mother, had never thought Brin would have 
to defend her home against her own kind.
    A full-size orcan whale sprang into being, and, black- 
and-white patches gleaming, took up vigilant guard in the 
entrance. Brin drew aside one particular strand of weed 
and ducked through. It settled back into place at once.
    She was in a tunnel now, really a maze her father had 
constructed through an uninhabited part of the Clouds. It 
would take hours to navigate, even for a sea Elwen, unless 
one knew the way through, as Brin did. It would lead her 
beyond the borders of the School's influence.
    Gasping breath in her exaltation, she spun toward 
freedom- and stopped.
    Living One Hamissa floated between her and the first 
fork of the maze. Her features were set, her lips curved 
in a smile that didn't touch her eyes.
    "Fortunate, isn't it," she said in a voice like the 
closing of a heavy door, "that your father told me about 
this exit."
----------------------------------------------------------
    Brin had never been more bored in her life. She'd just 
had a visit from the ella teacher, but the stranger, from 
another School, wouldn't let her proceed beyond the 
childish exercise of simply calling starwater. When Brin, 
in frustration, had sculpted a double of herself punching 
a double of the teacher, the woman had retreated with an 
outraged expression and a promise to tell the Living Ones.
    That had been several hours ago, and the young Dreamer 
was waiting for news still, though in truth she wondered 
what more they could do to punish her. She was forbidden 
to call ella except in the presence of the teacher, or as 
a last-ditch defense in the event of an attack. The maze 
exit had been destroyed, and her guard doubled. Four 
mirari, all female so that they could see through whatever 
illusion-defenses she tried, swam the tunnel in various 
places.
    Brin had begun to wonder why they kept her. The Living 
Ones weren't used to defiance, and those rare people who 
cared more about their own rights than the common good of 
the School had always been allowed to swim away.
    Reluctantly, she brought her thoughts back to the 
answer she knew already. It was because she was a Dreamer- 
or would be if she could get out of this starsforsaken 
place. Dreamers were rare and precious, not out of a lack 
of innate gift, but because existing Dreamers usually 
found only one successor they trusted not to abuse the 
power of sole liaison between a School of sea Elwens and 
their allies.
    Besides whatever they did for the corallords, of 
course.
    A stir in the weed near the door indicated someone 
moving down the tunnel. Brin sighed and sat up, her nose 
already telling her who it was.
    Living One Fershella slipped into the room, her kindly 
but annoying face fixed in a stern expression. She cast a 
glance behind her at the two barracuda guards, who were in 
turn looking warily at Brin- whether because of her attack 
on their fellow six days ago or because of her closeness 
to Fershella, she couldn't be certain. After a moment, 
however, the Living One made a complex motion with her 
hands, and the barracuda darted away. They seemed glad 
about it.
    Brin swam with her eyes politely lowered, though in 
truth she had to wonder what more they could do. Her 
freedom, her magic- she didn't have many more precious 
possessions.
    Then, as if to remind her, the Sign sent another 
heartbeat of warmth through her body, and she bit her lip, 
trying not to chuckle. She had a good idea now of what 
Fershella had come for, and would have told her to save 
her breath, save that it would be amusing to listen to.
    The Living One sucked in a breath, and Brin's eyes 
snapped up to hers. "My dear," said the older mirari in 
such a sweet voice that Brin blinked, "you must know that 
you are not yet ready to survive in the ocean on your 
own."
    "Living One, I am an adult now." Brin felt irritation 
rise up in her, but no anger. Everyone had forgotten so 
often that she reminded them only through force of habit.
    "Of course." Fershella waved that aside. Brin thought 
privately that she might be less obvious about her 
intentions; her eyes never left the Sign, as if it might 
take it into its head to swim away. "It's simply- well, 
Brin, quite frankly-" She shook her head. Brin let her, 
though she wanted to scream at her to get to the point. 
One did not scream at a Living One, however.
    Still, when the announcement did come, she was not at 
all ready for it.
    "Brin, my dear, the other Living Ones think you may 
not be fit to be a Dreamer." Though her tones were 
sympathetic, she watched Brin closely, as though to take 
note of her every reaction.
    Brin stared at her for a moment, then shook her head, 
her initial surprise and outrage fading. Surprise and 
outrage were what Fershella expected- or, perhaps, tears 
and a surrender of the Sign. She got neither.
    Brin laughed softly, mockingly, ignoring the Living 
One's wide-eyed surprise. "Living One Fershella, it is 
your task to lead the School, not to appoint Dreamers. All 
a Dreamer needs is the endorsement of her or his 
predecessor." Her hand closed on the Sign again. Was it 
her imagination, or was it really imparting warmth and 
strength to her continuously defiant stance against the 
law of her School? "Whether or not my father is dead, I 
have that. I need only the Emblem to become a full 
Dreamer, you say."
    She smiled. "Well, I have two of the three. Sounds 
like a good start, doesn't it?"
    Fershella suddenly straightened, somehow managing to 
swim in an upright position, like a sea-horse. Her voice 
thundered through the room, a command that, Brin knew, had 
more than a hint of plea about it. "The Living Ones and 
the Dreamer must work in partnership. If the corallords 
are attacked, the sea Elwens must have our permission 
before they can help."
    Privately, Brin doubted that; Dreamers were so 
respected that some mirari might dare to defy their 
leaders. But she left that needlessly hurtful topic alone. 
"Living One Fershella, I am sorry you don't think me fit 
to be a Dreamer. There is nothing I should like more than 
your approval. However, it is not necessary." She lifted 
her eyes, speaking with a candor that she hoped the older 
woman would respond to. "Let me go now, and the corallords 
may be slightly forgiving."
    For a moment, Fershella hesitated as if considering 
it, or else some close and compelling matter. Then she 
shook her head. "No. If one of the School successfully 
defied justice, others might follow."
    "Then let me go here and now," Brin determined 
quietly. "Say the Living Ones want me to surrender the 
Sign and swim me out past the guards. You'll have told no 
lies, and aided the course of true justice."
    Fershella stared at her, shocked. "Your father, young 
Brin, never suggested anything like that."
    "Perhaps it was because you did not interfere with his 
duty," Brin said pleasantly. "I'm sorry to offend your 
sensibilities, Living One, but from now on my duty to the 
corallords comes first. Not the School, not my 
responsibilities to it. I am a Dreamer first and a member 
of this School second."
    Fershella looked as if she were going to be sick, or 
at least clean her stomach. After a moment, however, she 
nodded with cold dignity- the nod of someone who saw an 
evil road stretching before her, but took it without 
hesitation.
    "Very well, then. You have pushed me to exerting the 
full power of my station. The others empowered me to give 
this justice if I must, and now I see I have no choice."
    She extended one hand, pointing at Brin with a 
trembling finger, as though she were a diseased fish. 
"From this day forward, Brin, daughter of the sea, you are 
considered in rebellion against the Living Ones and the 
rightful justice of the School. You will be kept here 
until you cooperate. If you do not, you will eventually 
die from the incomplete magic and we will take the Sign 
from your dead body, to present to a more deserving 
candidate."
    The hot, silvery fury that had bubbled for days in 
Brin's blood after first being dragged to her chamber 
returned. Amusement fled; contempt melted away. She drew 
herself up in turn and stared at Fershella with such anger 
that the Living One actually swam backwards, though this 
was painful on the scales.
    "You think you have the power to regulate Dreamers?" 
Again the fury seemed not entirely her own, seemed to 
spring from a source beyond her. "You cannot. They are 
beyond your reach. I will complete my duty, Fershella, and 
then perhaps forgive you for stopping a rightful Dreamer 
in the execution of that duty!"
    Her voice rolled and rumbled like the boom of a manta 
ray's wings on the surface of the water. She could 
distantly hear the confused voices of the guards, but she 
paid them no mind. Her eyes and will were bent on 
Fershella.
    At last, the Living One managed, with a vicious jerk 
of her neck, to tear her eyes free. "No," she said softly. 
"We're not like that. We wouldn't interrupt a rightful 
Dreamer." She glared at Brin as if her eyes could dig 
holes through her.
    "But you're not a rightful Dreamer," she snapped, and 
fled. Brin could hear the guards swimming down to meet 
her, asking what was going on, and her answers.
    Still, they didn't matter to the young Dreamer who'd 
only recently discovered what kind of power she had. 
Shaken, she took to circling slowly, one hand closing 
about the Sign.
    "Did you do that?" she whispered to the tiny coral 
shark, seeking some movement, perhaps some confirming 
gleam in the golden eyes.
    The answer came into her mind, without even the sound 
of telepathy but as clear as starlight.
    No. You did.
    What the guards made of her triumphant laughter so 
soon following Fershella's description of her behavior, 
Brin didn't care. They could think she was mad if they 
liked, she thought merrily, sculling lazily upside down. 
It didn't matter.
    All that mattered was that the Sign had spoken to her.  
Could there be any clearer sign that she was indeed the 
rightful Dreamer?