109 Conal held her over the tower balcony. Her whole body crawled with a weak, paralyzed itch. A clean-shaven face thrust itself before hers. "Look at me, girl," a stern voice ordered. "Nowhere else. Look at my face. Whose face do you see?" Kel blinked. That hideous drop was gone, replaced Her eyes darted to red furrows of scar at the corner of his right eye. "Lord Wyldon," she croaked. "Exactly. Look at my face and turn with me." His hands on her arms tugged, twisting her body to one side. She had to move her feet or be wrapped around her own spine. She turned, her eyes locked on his. "Now. We're on a flat place. There's stone under your feet, do you understand? Look down." "I'll fall," she whispered. "You can't. You're on solid ground. Just look. Curse it, girl, do as you're told!" Instinctively - they'd all learned to jump for that tone this winter - she looked down. The only thing that she saw was stone, flat, gray, and wonderfully close. A boy snickered. "Ooh, I'll fall," someone squeaked in a falsetto voice. Kel closed her eyes, close to tears with humiliation. Wyldon let go of Kel. "All of you, back to the practice courts," he said. "We've time for a few rounds of staff work." A few boys passed her, giggling. A friendly arm was slung around Kel's shoulders. "Come on, Mindelan," Neal's husky voice murmured in her ear. "We'll get you inside." "But you're not afraid on stairs," Seaver remarked. She cleared her throat. "Most are narrow and twisty. You can't see far in either direction. The rest of the time I just look at the next step."