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yielding. Is not that a kind of magic? And yet men use it every day.”
    Aubrey was laughing again. “Yes, but a woman may use the same magic on a man—lies and promises and moonlight and perfume,” he said. “And each sex has learned to defend itself against the other’s machinations. But against true magic, who has a defense?”
    â€œOnly another wizard,” Glyrenden said.
    â€œExactly! That is why the potions are unfair.”
    Glyrenden raised his mug of beer to his lips. “That,” he said deliberately, “is why I am a magician.”
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    BUT INTERMISSIONS LIKE this were rare, and came only after very full, very intense days of concentration. Since Glyrenden had returned, Aubrey had seen very little of the others living in the magician’s house. He and Glyrenden were often at their exercises before everyone else had even risen for breakfast.
    Arachne brought them their lunch daily, and very often carried in their supper as well. During the few meals they ate with the others, Glyrenden was gay and expansive, attentive to his wife, and tolerantly affectionate toward Orion. They said little in response, but kept their eyes upon him almost without wavering, Orion in particular regarding the wizard with a heavy, steady stare. Lilith would look at him, then look away, then look at him again, almost as if she could not help herself. Glyrenden watched her delicate, fastidious movements with an expression of smiling infatuation.
    Aubrey was impatient with the mealtime breaks, ate rapidly and was always finished before anyone else. These alien soups and stews were not the food for which he was starved, and the strange undercurrents that passed between the other men and women in the room made him slightly uncomfortable. He would have forgone the meals altogether, and told Glyrenden so, but the wizard laughed and insisted they eat. And they ate, and the instructions went on.

Three
    AND SO IT went for three weeks, but as the fourth week began, Glyrenden prepared to leave again for an unspecified period of time. “I warned you, remember?” Glyrenden said, laughing at Aubrey’s blank look. “I said I would be in and out of the house and that you could expect no set schedule from me. But do not worry. I shall hurry back to you as quickly as I can.”
    They were the words of a fond older lover to his impetuous mistress, but Aubrey brushed them aside. “Let me come with you,” he said. “I could watch you work.”
    â€œYou could not.”
    â€œI could. I wouldn’t get in the way.”
    â€œI don’t want you with me when I work.” But Glyrenden said it smilingly, so Aubrey was not offended.
    â€œNext time, then? For there will be a next time, won’t there?”
    â€œAnd a next time and a next time. I make no promises, my pet. I have grave doubts. But I will think about it.”
    The next day he was gone, but when Aubrey woke in the morning, that was not the first thing that crossed his mind. Indeed, it took a very long time before he thought anything at all, waking up in that oversized, lumpy, molding bed. Every muscle in his body ached, as if he had been exercising strenuously; his mind was unfocused and unfamiliar to him. The room itself looked disproportionate, asymmetrical. Aubrey sat up and felt dizzy. He dropped his head to his hands to clear his vision, then looked up again, more critically. Yes, this was the room he had been assigned from his first night at this house. Why, then, should it look so odd? It was as if some drug had been administered to his system and had suddenly worn off, leaving him uncertain of the balance between reality and fiction, truth and fabrication. Or perhaps he was coming down with some illness, which had clogged his ears and fogged over his eyes. That was certainly more likely, particularly since he had neglected himself physically over the past three weeks.
    He rose slowly, catching