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wless on every line and plane of the man's face； but light itself： morning； the mon light of day。 There was a power greater than the mage's。 And the years had been no kinder to Sparrowhawk than to any man。 Those were lines of age； and he looked tired； as the light grew ever stronger。 He yawned。。。
So gazing and wondering and pondering； Arren fell asleep at last。 But Sparrowhawk sat by him watching the dawn e and the sun rise； even as one might study a treasure for something gone amiss in it； a jewel flawed； a child sick。
Sea Dreams
Late in the morning Sparrowhawk took the magewind from the sail and let his boat go by the world's wind； which blew softly to the south and west。 Far off to the right； the hills of southern Wathort slipped away and fell behind； growing blue and small； like misty waves above the waves。
Arren woke。 The sea basked in the hot； gold noon； endless water under endless light。 In the stern of the boat Sparrowhawk sat naked except for a loincloth and a kind of turban made from sailcloth。 He was singing softly； striking his palms on the thwart as if it were a drum； in a light； monotonous rhythm。 The song he sang was no spell of wizardry； no chant or Deed of heroes or kings； but a lilting drone of non…sense words； such as a boy might sing as he herded goats through the long； long afternoons of summer； in the high hills of Gont； alone。
From the sea's surface a fish leapt up and glided through the air for many yards on stiff； shimmering vanes like the wings of dragonflies。
〃We're in the South Reach；〃 Sparrowhawk said when his song was done。 〃A strange part of the world； where the fish fly and the dolphins sing； they say。 But the water's mild for swimming； and I have an understanding with the sharks。 Wash the touch of the slave…taker from you。〃
Arren was sore in every muscle and loath to move at first。 Also he was an unpracticed swimmer； for the seas of Enlad are bitter； so that one must fight with them rather than swim in them and is soon exhausted。 This bluer sea was cold at first plunge； then delightful。 Aches dropped away from him。 He thrashed by Lookfar's side like a young sea…serpent。 Spray flew up in fountains。 Sparrowhawk joined him； swimming with a firmer stroke。 Docile and protective； Lookfar waited for them； white…winged on the shining water。 A fish leapt from sea to air； Arren pursued it； it dived； leapt up again； swimming in air； flying in the sea； pursuing him。
Golden and supple； the boy played and basked in the water and the light until the sun touched the sea。 And dark and spare； with。 the economy of gesture and the terse strength of age； the man swam； and kept the boat on course； and rigged up an awning of sailcloth； and watched the swimming boy and the flying fish with an impartial tenderness。
〃Where are we heading？〃 Arren asked in the late dusk； after eating largely of salt meat and hard bread； and already sleepy again。
〃Lorbanery；〃 Sparrowhawk replied； and the soft syllables formed the last word Arren heard that night； so that his dreams of the early night wove themselves about it。 He dreamt he was walking in drifts of soft； pale…colored stuff； shreds and threads of pink and gold and azure； and felt a foolish pleasure； someone told him； 〃These are the silk…fields of Lorbanery； where it never gets dark。〃 But later； in the fag…end of night； when the stars of autumn shone in the sky of spring； he dreamt that he was in a ruined house。 It was dry there。 Everything was dusty； and festooned with ragged； dusty webs。 Arren's legs were tangled in the webs； and they drifted across his mouth and nostrils； stopping his breath。 And the worst horror of it was that he knew the high； ruined room was that hall where he had breakfasted with the Masters； in the Great House on Roke。
He woke all in dismay； his heart pounding； his legs cramped against a thwart。 He sat up； trying to get away from the evil dream。 In the east there was not yet light； but a dilution of darkness。 The mast creaked； the sail； still taut to the northeast breeze； glimmered high and faint above him。 In the stern his panion slept sound and silent。 Arren lay down again and dozed till clear day woke him。
This day the sea was bluer and quieter than he had ever imagined it could be； the water so mild and clear that swimming in it was half like gliding or floating upon air； strange it was and dreamlike。
In the noontime he asked； 〃Do wizards make much account of dreams？〃
Sparrowhawk was fishing。 He watched his line attentively。 After a long time he said； 〃Why？〃
〃I wondered if there's ever truth in them。〃
〃Surely。〃
〃Do they foretell truly？〃
But the mage had a bite； and ten minutes later； when he had landed their lunch； a splendid silverblue sea bass； the question was clean forgotten。
In the afternoon as they lazed under the awning rigged to give shelter from the imperious sun； Arren asked； 〃What do we seek in Lorbanery？〃
〃That which we seek；〃 said Sparrowhawk。
〃In Enlad；〃 said Arren after a while； 〃we have a story about the boy whose schoolmaster was a stone：'
〃Aye？。。。 What did he learn？〃
〃Not to ask questions。〃
Sparrowhawk snorted； as if suppressing a laugh； and sat up。 〃Very well！〃 he said。 〃Though I prefer to save talking till I know what I'm talking about。 Why is there no more magic done in Hort Town and in Narveduen and maybe throughout all the Reaches？ That's what we seek to learn； is it not？〃
〃Yes。〃
〃Do you know the old saying； Rules change in the Reaches？ Seamen use it； but it is a wizards' saying； and it means that wizardry itself depends on place。 A true spell on Roke may be mere words on Iffish。 The language of the Making is not everywhere remembered； here one word； there another。 And the weaving of spells is itself interwoven with the earth and the water； the winds and the fall of light of the place where it is cast。 I once sailed far into the East； so far that neither wind nor water heeded my mand； being ignorant of their true names； or more likely it was I who was ignorant。
〃The world is very large； the Open Sea going on past all knowledge； and there are worlds beyond the world。 Over these abysses of space and in the long extent of time； I doubt whether any word that can be spoken would bear； everywhere and forever； its weight of meaning and its power； unless it were that First Word which Segoy spoke； making all； or the Final Word； which has not been nor will be spoken until all things are unmade。。。 So； even within this world of our Earthsea； the little islands that we know； there are differences and mysteries and changes。 And the place least known and fullest of mysteries is the South Reach。 Few wizards of the Inner Lands have e among these people。 They do not wele wizards； having …so it is believed… their own kinds of magic。 But the rumors of these are vague； and it may be that the art magic was never well known there； nor fully understood。 If so； it would be easily undone by one who set himself to the undoing of it； and sooner weakened than our wizardry of the Inner Lands。 And then we might hear tales of the failure of magic in the South。
〃For discipline is the channel in which our acts run strong and deep； where there is