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d turned hurriedly away； his face coloring。 One hand made an involuntary Tree before his chest。
Aditu's laugh was like rain。 〃1 am happy to be shed of all that！ It was cold where the manchild was； Jiriki！ Cold！〃
〃You are right； Aditu；〃 Jiriki said grimly。 〃We find the winter outside easy to forget when it is still summer in our home。 Now； it is off to the Yasira； where some do not want to believe that winter exists at all。〃
He led the way out his strange entry hall to the sunsplashed corridor of willows beside the river。 Aditu followed him。 Simon brought up the rear； still blushing furiously； with no choice but to watch her springy； swaying walk。
With the added distraction of Aditu in her summer finery； Simon did not think about much of anything for a while； but even Jiriki's lissome sister and Jao e…Tinukai'i's myriad other glories could not distract him forever。 Several things had been said lately that were beginning to worry him： Khendraja'aro was angry with him； apparently； and Simon had distinctly heard Aditu say something about breaking rules。 What exactly was happening？
〃Where are we going； Jiriki？〃 he asked at last。
〃The Yasira。〃 The Sitha gestured ahead。 〃There； do you see？〃 Simon stared； shielding his eyes from the strong sunlight。 There were so many distractions here； and the sunlight itself was one of the strongest。 Only a few days before he had been wondering if he would ever be warm again。 Why was he yet again allowing himself to be dragged somewhere else； when all he wanted to do was flop down on his back in the clover and sleep。。。？
At first the Yasira seemed like nothing so much as a grand and oddly…shaped tent； a tent whose center pole mounted fifty ells into the air； made of a fabric more shifting and colorful than any of Jao e…Tinukai'i's other beautiful structures。 It took another two dozen paces before Simon realized that the center pole was a gigantic ash tree with wide…spreading branches； whose crown rose into the forest sky high above the Yasira itself。 He drew another hundred paces closer before he saw why the fabric of the vast tent shimmered so。
Butterflies。
Trailing to the ground from the ash tree's widest branches were a thousand threads； so slender that they seemed little more than parallel glints of light as they fell a hand…span apart all around the tree。 Clinging to these strands from top to bottom； lazily fanning their iridescent wings； huddling so closely that they overlapped each other like the shingles on some impossible roof were 。。。 a million； million butterflies。 They were of every color imaginable； orange and wine…red； oxblood and tangerine； cerulean blue； daffodil yellow； velvet black as the night sky。 The quiet whisper of their wings was everywhere； as if the warm summer air itself had been given voice。 They moved sluggishly； as though near sleep； but were otherwise bound in no way that Simon could see。 Countless chips of vibrant moving color； the butterflies shattered the sunlight like an in… parable treasury of living gems。
In that moment； as Simon first saw it； the Yasira seemed the breathing； glowing center of Creation。 He stopped and abruptly burst into helpless tears。
Jiriki did not see Simon's overwhelmed response。 〃The little wings are restless；〃 he said。 〃S'hue Khendraja'aro has brought the word。〃
Simon sniffled and wiped at his eyes。 Faced with the Yasira； he suddenly thought he could understand the bitterness of Ineluki； the Storm King's hatred for childish； destructive mankind。 Shamed； Simon listened to Jiriki's words as though from a great distance。 The Sitha prince was saying something about his uncle…was Khendraja'aro talking to the butterflies？ Simon didn't care any longer。 This was all just too much for him。 He didn't want to think； he wanted to lie down。 He wanted to sleep。
Jiriki had at last noticed his distress。 He took Simon carefully by the elbow and guided him toward the Yasira。 At the front of the mad； glorious structure； butterfly…laden strands trailed on either side of a wooden doorway； which was no more than a simple carved frame wound round with trailing roses。 Aditu had already stepped through； and now Jiriki led Simon in。
If the effect of the butterflies from outside was one of gleaming magnifi… cence； the view from within was entirely different。 The multicolored shafts of light leaked down through the living roof； as if through stained glass that had somehow bee unstable。 The great ash tree that was the Yasira's spine stood bathed in a thousand shifting hues； Simon was again reminded of some strange forest thriving beneath the inconstant ocean。 This time； however； he was beginning to find the thought a little much to bear。 He felt almost as though he were drowning； floundering helplessly in an opulence he could not entirely understand。
The great chamber had few furnishings。 Beautiful rugs lay scattered everywhere； but in many places the grass grew uncovered。 Shallow pools gleamed here and there； flowering bushes and stones around them； all things just as they were outside。 The only differences were the butterflies and the Sithi。
The chamber was full of Sithi…folk； male and female； in costumes as variegated as the wings of the butterflies that quivered overhead。 One by one at first； then in clusters； they turned to look at the new arrivals； hundreds of calm； catlike eyes agleam in the shifting light。 What seemed to Simon a quiet but malicious hiss rose from the multitude。 He wanted to run away； and actually made a brief； stumbling attempt； but Jiriki's grip on his arm was gently unbreakable。 He found himself led forward to a rise of earth before the base of the tree。 A tall； moss…netted stone stood there like an admonishing finger sunken in the grassy ground。 On low couches before it sat two Sithi dressed in splendid pale robes； a woman and a man。
The man； who was seated closest； looked up at Simon and Jiriki's approach。 His hair； tied high atop his head； was jet black； and he wore a crown of carved white birchwood。 He had the same angular golden features as Jiriki； but there was something drawn at the corners of his narrow eyes and thin mouth that suggested a life of great length filled with vast but subtle disappointment。 The woman who sat beside him on his left hand had hair of a deep； coppery red； she； too； wore a circlet of birchwood on her brow。 Long white feathers hung from her many braids； and she wore several bracelets and rings as black and shiny as the hair of the man beside her。 Of all the Sithi Simon had seen； her face was the most immobile； the most rigidly serene。 Both man and woman had an air of age and subtlety and stillness； but it was the quiet of a dark old pond in a shadowed wood； the calm of a sky tilted with motionless thunderclouds； it seemed entirely possible that such placidity might hide something dangerous…dangerous to callow mortals； at least。
〃You must bow； San；〃 Jiriki said quietly。 Simon； as much because of his shaking legs as anything else； lowered himself to his knees。 The smell of the warm turf was strong in his nostrils。
〃Seoman Snowlock； manchild；〃 Jiriki said loudly； 〃know you are e before Shima'onari； King of the Zida'ya