wife were still at the kitchen table. Glyrenden had Lilithâs small, slim hand in his and he was playing some complicated loverâs game with her fingers. From the doorway, it looked as though he took one finger at a time and pushed it back against the knuckle as far as it would go; but Glyrenden was smiling and Lilith had no expression at all on her face, so probably that was not what he was really doing. As Aubrey walked self-consciously into the room, Glyrenden planted a kiss on the back of Lilithâs hand, then dropped it.
âAh, my apprentice,â said the wizard, his lively black eyes examining Aubrey. âYou slept late. Have you been holding splendid parties and drinking all night in my absence?â
âNo, indeed. I have been most studious so as to impress you upon your return.â
âBut I am already impressed with your powers; surely I told you that before?â
âThere is still room for improvement.â
âThere is for all of us,â Glyrenden said, but Aubrey had the impression he was not entirely pleased. âExcept for my beloved Lilith. She comes to us perfect.â He nodded his head graciously toward his wife. Aubrey was a little embarrassed.
âYou should be a judge,â Lilith said coolly. Aubrey looked over at her, but said nothing.
Glyrenden rose to his feet. âEat quickly, my young disciple. I shall await you in my study.â
Aubrey sat down and hastily threw together a plate of the leftovers on the table. To his surprise, Lilith stayed with him after her husband had left the room, sipping her milk and watching him eat.
âYou are very eager,â she remarked, observing him chew and swallow as rapidly as he was able.
âI donât want to try his patience,â Aubrey explained around a mouthful of food. âHe can have a temper, sometimes stirred by very small things.â
âCan he?â she said, amused. âI hadnât noticed.â
âIâm sure you have,â Aubrey said quietly.
âPerhaps I just donât care.â
âThatâs moderately obvious.â
âWhat else is obvious about me?â
She had never asked him for an opinion on anything before, and he thought it strange that she would choose to ask that question, at this time, with her husband not twenty yards away. âAlmost nothing,â Aubrey said with a certain bitterness.
She smiled again. âYou have a lot to learn.â
Aubrey was standing now, gulping his last sip of coffee and feeling about as mannered as Orion at a meal. âYes, I think so,â he said, and left the room.
The morningâs lessons did not go well. Aubrey, wondering why this should be so, laid the blame on his own confusion, his doubts about Lilith, his faint, nagging distrust of Glyrenden. These things had built a gauzy wall of resistance between him and his mentor, impossible to articulate or discuss, but somehow there. He was clumsy with the spells he knew the best, and slow to learn the new ones, and Glyrenden called a halt to the lessons before the afternoon was half over.
âYou have not impressed me today, my pet,â the older wizard said. âWe can hope for better luck in the morning.â
And the next morning, things did go better. Aubrey had firmly pushed from his mind all thoughts of Lilith; he had entered the study room determined to do well. He had come in upon Glyrenden creating fantastic colors in a handheld ball of light, and a rush of admiration dizzied him for a minute. Then Glyrenden turned and smiled at him and held out the kaleidoscope of flame. Aubrey took it in his hand and it was as cool as water in his palm, although the gray smoke from the tiny fire drifted into his eyes and stung them.
âIs it not pretty?â Glyrenden said. âAnd very simple. Come. Can you tell me what it is made of?â
So Aubrey concentrated, and he felt again the liquid icy contours against his palm, and he saw the