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affect. You can see and draw, be touched and
sculpt, hear and speak.”
    “But how?” he begged the old man. “I can
touch the table with my hand. I can speak with my tongue and the
wind of my lungs. But how do I touch space ? ”
    “A man with eyes, kept forever in dark, will
never learn to see, or to paint what he sees,” answered Xander.
“But you were fortunate. The Gifts of the Tourists are fading, but
you, unlike many of your fellow humans, grew up exposed to the
magic, to the altered paths of space and energy that make your
inn's coldbox and everflame work. You have been exposed to light,
and your sense is growing.”
    “But I felt nothing !” he insisted.
“Whatever you think, I'm still blind, still deaf to it!”
    “No,” said the wizard. “I'm not wrong, not
about this. The process has begun in you, and it never stops, never
goes backwards. Stick with me me. lad, and you'll flower yet, trust
me. Every day we'll expose you to more, and more kinds, and before
you know it you'll see that I'm right.”
    Then there was a knock at the door, and for
a time Les forgot his frustration, forgot his hopes and despair,
when the most beautiful girl in the world brought in their
breakfast.
     
     

Chapter 12
     
    Aria: “A pool among the rock”

    There was almost no sound as pale feet in
golden sandals trod the ancient concrete of the stairwell. Aria
moved without haste, but still had to work to keep the tray
balanced as she descended. Lucky for her that the Governor kept her
court wizard near her, else she surely would have spilled the
contents of the tray ere she reached the old man's quarters.
    Hugging the tray to her with one arm, she
pushed the door open at the thirtieth floor and headed down the
corridor. Jon and Edgar slouched against the wall outside the door
she sought. They straightened as she approached, and not entirely
from military reflex. She smiled inwardly.
    “ Try not to strain
yourselves, boys.”
    An echo of her mother's
clucked its tongue inside her. Y ou should not address
your future troops so familiarly. But she
ignored it, or tried to, as she always did. She knew from
experience that even grizzled veterans took no offense to smiling
words from her. Men are such simple things, so easily
charmed.
    Edgar gave her a lopsided grin that spoke of
groundless optimism. “We didn't expect to see you here, Miss.
Where's Doris? Doesn't she usually bring the food for him?”
    Aria narrowed her eyes in feigned
irritation. “She's not well,” she lied. “Do you really wish she had
come, instead of me?”
    The two men eyed each other. “No, no, I'm
just … surprised, is all.”
    “Then let me in, will you? Or do you want to
explain to him why his breakfast is cold today?
    Edgar saluted and slid back the bolt and
swung the door open for her. She sniffed and pretended not to
notice the wink he gave to Jon as they both enjoyed the view of the
back of her trousers entering the wizard's rooms.
    They were at the table gazing at a steaming
bowl of water. Then they looked up at her entrance and her
heartbeat quickened, as it always did when she came into Xander's
presence.
    It was hard to imagine how there could be a
greater contrast than the one she saw between the two of them. The
apprentice was confused, wary, surprised, and clearly ill at ease
as he ran a hand self-consciously through blonde hair. His features
were pleasant enough, but his clothes were coarse and patched here
and there. Clearly from a poor family. His hands were large and
calloused with years of chores, and his boots had seen better days
– probably from long-gone years on someone else's feet.
    Xander, also was frugal in his attire. His
robe and the cloak thrown over a chair were gray and free of
ornamentation, serviceable though they were. But the rest of him
was so different from the boy that the apprentice might have been
his shadow rather than an entity in his own light. Xander's face
was lined with decades of character. His beard