«I am no dream,» said Blade. «Look you at my head-is it not too big for my body?»

The Izmir nodded. «Much too big. You are grotesque.»

«And hear my voice,» Blade continued. «Is it that of a man or an infant?»

«A man.»

«And do you believe that in this oversize skull there is a man's brain, fully developed?»

«I am beginning to believe it,» said the Izmir, «though I am not the fool that many, especially that Casta, take me for, and I have never really believed in miracles or wizardry. My people say that I am superstitious and I let them think so, for it does me no harm and gives them something to gabble about.»

This gave Blade pause. He saw that he had better revise his plan a bit. He leaned closer to the old man and stared into his eyes. The rheumy old eyes stared back and Blade saw cunning and knowledge there, and he saw also infinite weariness and boredom and, lurking last and deepest, final despair.

The Izmir said, «Your eyes are those of a man. And, if all my experience does not deceive me, those of a strong and shrewd and triumphant man. This I believe. But what good are these things in the body of a baby?»

«I grow a year each day,» said Blade. «You will see this for yourself. I come from another world, which I will explain when we have time, and, though you do not believe in miracles or wizardry, there is something of both in my coming here-though not in the ordinary sense. How much time have we, Izmir, before someone comes to these chambers?»

The old man nodded toward a bell pull. «All the time we need. I am never disturbed until I summon my servants in the morning.»

«Good. Now watch me.» Blade leaped from the huge bed and ran around the room. He turned cartwheels and somersaults and jumped over a chair or two, then returned to the bed. «You saw that-you have never seen a normal babe do such things.»