The sun was at its highest peak and its light streamed into the garden and onto my bare neck. “Are we going to miss the noonday meal again?” I asked.

Benedris wiped the sweat from his wrinkled brow. “No, we are not. In fact, come with me now and we will begin its preparation.”

I followed him into the house and slumped into a chair. Benedris, however, did not go about preparing my meal. Instead he stood right in front of me. “Get up, girl,” he commanded. “You have to make a meal.”

I went rigid from shock. “Me? Me as in... me? No. No no no no. I do not cook. I have never cooked. I will never cook.”

The old man fixed me with an ice-cold stare, “In that case, you will starve. I assure you that, after their first day, no student of mine has ever taken a bite that they did not help prepare.”

I stood still and wide eyed for several moments, weighing the stupidity of leaving Benedris to the utter, complete degradation of having anything to do with a meal besides eating it. Finally, I felt my head drop down -a position it had never held before. “I’ll cook,” I said. I was careful to make sure that the word ‘cook’ sounded as vile and bitter as I could make it.

The horrible, evil, slave-master ignored my tone and led the way into the kitchen. He then left me to my fate. I wrestled for an hour with strange and barbarous implements, finally producing a collection of damp, blackened things that could pass for food.

I pushed my way through the door with a bowl in each hand, and froze. Benedris was levitating three feet off the ground. His legs were folded beneath him, his hands laid lightly on his knees, his eyes closed, his face turned upward. I had never seen a Blessed levitate before. I imagined that it must be relaxing to float like that.

He was not disturbed by my entrance, merely waved a hand toward the table. Once I had set out the meal the old Blessed floated like a feather to the ground. I was able to choke through several bites of my food. Benedris ate all that I left, without so much as a pained look on his face.

After eating, we did not go into the garden. Instead, Benedris taught me to weave baskets. It was difficult and my fingers fumbled, but when a basket, misshapen but able to hold something, sat before me, I felt immensely proud.

My days fell into a pattern after this. The mornings were spent in the garden, the afternoons either there or in some craft or chore. I got steadily better at cooking, especially since Benedris helped me after that first meal. I also learned weaving, pottery, and a thousand other skills. In the evening, he would tell me stories. They were wondrous tales that I had never heard before, stories about far off places and long ago times, kings, Blessed, and common folk.

One night I was sitting in front of Benedris, my hair still wet from the bath I always took before supper. He began his story and I listened intently for a while, but soon found myself ignoring the meaning of the words and only hearing the rhythm of the old Blessed’s voice.

It was probably because I was more tired than usual. The summer was ending, and we had just begun to harvest the garden, taking in all of the plants that would perish with the coming of fall. It was hard work, and I was more exhausted than I had been since my first week at Benedris’ house.

The words I was half listening to washed over me. I thought about the sun, setting earlier now. I thought about ripening apples, and the squirrels that scurried on top of the walls and over the apple tree’s branches. I thought about the undescribable scent in the air that meant autumn.

I was slipping into what I called my Bless dream. The spark that was Benedris brightened but I ignored it. After all, I wasn’t trying to reach this state. I had tried before and it had worked, but never as strongly as it was when not on purpose.

The old man was saying something now. I could tell that it was not part of the story, the rhythm was wrong, but did not bother to connect the words with the meanings that went with them. Suddenly, I felt a sharp slap on my leg. I snapped out of Bless dream... and fell.

I crashed into the ground in a tangle of limbs. Gently nursing a bruised elbow, I looked up at Benedris. He was floating five feet above the ground. “Sorry about that,” he said as he settled down. “It was the only way to wake you up. You will have to learn to become less lost in the dream.”

“Was I... was I levitating?”

Benedris smiled. “Yes, Velvet, you were. Rather high too, I am impressed.”

I pulled myself into a more comfortable position, thinking about what he had said. “You said that I would have to learn, does that mean that you are going to teach me?”

The old man’s smile grew wider. “Yes, I am going to teach you how to control your power. But you must remember that those lessons are no more important than all the other things I have to teach you. Levitating will be of little use to you, but learning to bandage a wound or mend a tear will help you every day of your life.”

I nodded, but was not listening to what he said. I just levitated. I wondered how long it would be before I could move things with my mind, or make illusions. Benedris had told me that those powers were both rather difficult to develop and master. Still, the prospect of powers to come made me itch with excitement.

“Anyway,” Benedris continued, “there will be no lessons at all tomorrow.”

I shook myself out of my daydream. “What? Why?”

“We will be going to a market across the city. There are things that we will need to buy. I go there several times a year. Considering this you should go to sleep. Trying a new power for the first time is tiring and we will have to wake early in the morning.”

He was right, I was tired, and I fell asleep the moment my head hit the straw mat.

I looked around the busy market, basking in the comfortable feeling of gold against my fingers. Bendris had given me a single gold piece with which to buy myself a treat while he was off making necessary exchanges. His spark in my mind, only a faint glimmer, for I was not in Bless dream, was down the street behind me.

As I stood there, I became aware of another spark, one that was not Benedris’. It was even fainter than my teacher’s, and I couldn’t quite sense its location. I unfocused my eyes, ears, and nose and called up thoughts of the kind that usually sent me into Bless dream. The foreign spark brightened, and I could tell that it was moving, swiftly. In fact, it was going down a street just around the corner, and was coming closer.

Benedris walked up to my side and placed a hand on my shoulder, making me suddenly aware of the noisy swarm of people all around me. “I see that you’ve sensed our fellow up there, Velvet. I’ve been aware of him since we came. Don’t worry, most Blessed simply pass each other by with out a word.”

The two of us continued to stand and watch the corner until the spark had reached it. Around the corner came a magnificent sedan chair borne by head-shaved men in cotton robes. Brightly armored soldiers with plumes in their helmets marched on either side and in front, forcing walkers to get out of the way. Its occupant was hidden from view by heavy curtains. I had only ridden in one of these chairs twice, for they were things of the city and I had been raised on country estates.

I heard Benedris sigh beside me. “Oh well. I suppose there’s no way we can avoid her.”

“Her?” I asked. “Benedris, do you know who’s in that chair?”

The old man nodded. “Yes, and believe me, she will not just pass us by.”

Sure enough, the sedan chair drew up to us and stopped. The men holding it kneeled down, bringing the bottom of it to about waist level, but did not set it down. A hand, graceful, pale, and glittering with jewels, slid through the curtains and drew them apart. The woman who was revealed was in her thirties and very beautiful. She was wearing a maroon silk gown, with gold embroidery along the low neckline and white lace spilling out over her wrists. The sight of that dress made me sigh a little; it had been months since I had seen silk.

A white scarf, heavily embroidered with maroon and gold, was stretched over her forehead and swept behind her long, dark hair, obviously to hide her spirit mark. “Greetings Benedris,” she said with a wide smile. “I have not seen you for quite a while.”

My teacher did not return the smile. Instead his face was expressionless and his eyes steely as he returned, “Greetings, Lady si-Kiatt.”

“Really Benedris, why are you being so cold?” I loved her voice, regal, yet warm. She saw me for the first time and gasped. “You know, you look just like someone I knew very well. Would you happen to be related to Kolane so-Hanser?”

I nodded. “Yes, she was my mother.”

“Oh! That would make you Ione. I had no idea you’d been Blessed. I shall have to ask Pentair about it when I see him next.” I shuddered a bit at the mention of my father, but Lady si-Kiatt leaned forward and said, in a motherly tone, “Your mother was a very close friend of mine before

she died. I was at her wedding and even saw you in your cradle. Is there a tapestry in your home? One showing a couple dancing beneath a tree?”

I nodded again. “It hangs in the front hall. I always loved it.”

“That was my wedding gift to her.”

Benedris placed a hand on my shoulder. “Velvet, this is Morda si-Kiatt, advisor to the king and head of the court’s Blessed.”

“You didn’t have to tell her all that Benedris! All Ione needs to know is that she can call me Morda.”

Benedris kept his head turned away from her. “Velvet, we need to get on with our trading so we can get home.” He turned and left without a word to Morda.

I lingered for a moment by the sedan chair. “I’m sorry he was so rude to you. He didn’t even say goodbye.”

Her smile stayed wide. “Oh, don’t apologize, Ione dear. Benedris has always disliked me, for reasons I cannot fathom. I have no objection to him, though he has the most horrible temper sometimes.”

“Really?” I had never seen him show signs of anger, or much emotion at all.

“Yes, and with his power, there’s no telling what could happen when he’s upset. But I’m getting off the topic. You see, I feel a little guilty. I told you I gave your mother a wedding present, but I never gave a birth gift for you!”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” I assured her.

“Still, I would like to give you something now.” She reached up, unhooked her necklace, and handed it to me. It was a beautiful piece of jewelry, with small ovals of clear crystal alternating with gold and white beads. Dangling from it was a pendant of shining, black stone. “Here, take this,” she said, “but don’t tell Benedris, he might not approve. Doubtless you already know how odd he is about fine things.”

I carefully dropped the necklace into my pocket. “Thank you, Morda. I’m glad I met you today.”

“I’m glad to have met you too, Ione.” The woman’s smile, which had never slackened since the beginning, grew even wider. “Very glad indeed.”