become a Master of Air,' he told her, as matter-of-factly as if he were confirming that the sun rose in the east. 'The Ordeals for other Elements differ, of course. Each is determined by the Nature of the Elementals; the one thing they all have in common is that there is a cost to the acquisition of power. Nothing comes without a price.'
She did not answer that, but he had not expected her to. After a moment, she opened the second book, and began reading it aloud.
When she finished, it was well past four, and he called a halt. Even if she was able to absorb the stress of the past evening without any overt problem, he had not been. As she finished reading, he cleared his throat. 'That will be all for tonight, Miss Hawkins-'
'You called me Rose, earlier,' she interrupted.
He recalled immediately, much to his chagrin, that she was right. 'So I did. I apologize.'
'Don't,' she replied, surprising him. 'The use of Christian names or even nicknames to another has more than one interpretation. It can be the sign that one is far superior to the other, but it can also be the sign that they are equal, if the liberty is equal.'
He felt the corner of his mouth pull in an approximation of a smile at her cleverness. 'Very well, then. I freely give you permission to call me Jason. I never had a nickname.'
'I frankly can't imagine anyone daring to give you one,' she countered, the blue eyes behind the thick lenses of her glasses sparkling with a hint of mischief. 'I have no objection whatsoever to you calling me 'Rose,' however. I never particularly identified with my namesake.'
'The character from Shakespeare?' he said, surprised. 'But why ever not?'
'Because I wasn't named for the character from Shakespeare, but the naughty wife from Die Fledermaus,' she admitted, blushing. 'My father's taste ran to music rather than theater.'
She startled him into a real laugh. 'Now that I understand! We have done a good night's work, Rose; a great deal has been accomplished. Thank you, and good night.'
'Good night, Jason,' she answered, setting the book aside and standing up, brushing her skirt as she did so. 'May I say that, strange as this has been, I fervently hope that I do not wake in the morning to discover this has been a dream brought on by too many medieval manuscripts and too much imagination? Life will be so much more interesting if all this is real.'
'It is real enough, Rose,' he told her image soberly, though too softly to be heard. 'Real enough to be more nightmare than dream-which I pray you never discover.'
In the morning, Rose woke quite certain that she had dreamed all of the events of the previous evening. It was too fantastic to be believed, too ridiculous. A railway magnate with a double life as a wizard, with magic at his command that truly worked? Absurd. She laughed at herself even as she stretched and made ready to rise-
Right up to the point where she drew aside the bed curtains and groped for her glasses, only to find them floating mere inches from her face, with a blurry globe of brightness hovering in the center of the room.
She seized the spectacles and fumbled them on hastily, and the blurry form resolved itself into a Salamander. There was no mistake; it was exactly as she remembered, a lizard-like creature that glowed a brilliant, flame- colored yellow, with fiery blue eyes. She could not tell if it was the one from last night or not, since she didn't note any real differences.
Then it spoke, and the voice was significantly different from the other; higher, breathier, like a small, shy child's. 'What would you care to wear today, lady?' it asked. Its tone was deferential.
She blinked at it, and said the first thing that came into her mind; the slight chill in the air reminded her that it was November, and she identified the first warm ensemble she recalled. 'The brown wool plush suit and one of the ivory silk blouses,' she told it. The Salamander began to spin, and the wardrobe doors opened.
The suit lifted out, jacket and skirt together, looking uncannily as if it was alive. 'This?' said the Salamander, as the suit turned for her examination.
'Oh-yes,' she replied, still feeling rather stunned.
A bureau drawer opened, and one of the blouses rose from it, unfolding itself before her eyes. Even as she watched it, dumbfounded, the creases it had acquired from lying folded in the drawer smoothed out.
'And this?' asked the Salamander politely. 'Or another?'
