Numair looked, this time out at the mountains and the forests that rambled up their sides, punctuated by distant calm lakes and veiled by mist. The rainclouds were showering one of the slopes and parting around the peaks.

"It is quite a view," he said after a moment. Still looking, he untied the knot in the cloth that held the bird thing to his back, and started to pull it around to his front. "It must be difficult for you to ever land, looking at this."

Hawk chuckled. "Wull I get tired eventually," he said. Numair rested the bird thing on Hawk's back, braced against his own torso, and did something that made the wings of the thing spring outward. "But you're right. 'Specially these days, when I ain't tryin' to get anywhere fast, an' after I was grounded for so long, an' when the weather's nice--I feel like I could fly forever."

As he spoke, Numair lifted the back panel of the bird thing off, revealing innards made of silvery metal rods and coppery metal wire, and golden-colored intricate inlays that ran over it all, and in the middle a few small twigs strapped around an egg-shaped amber stone. Numair placed his fingers along the central rod, and with a small burst of greenish lightning the writing in the whole thing lit a bright white. He replaced the panel quickly, as the entirety of the bird thing began to rise gently off Hawk's back, spitting apparently harmless green sparks as it did.

"I must admit that sounds nice," Numair said. "But I suppose I'm a bit jealous."

Hawk made a questioning face that Numair didn't see, but he was quiet. Numair allowed the bird thing to rise until he was holding it above his head with the tips of his fingers; the green sparks were now spitting from the top of the thing, casting a wan light.

"Aah, all right, it's awake," he said. "Could you begin circling?"

"You got it."