He felt a shock of surprise as the door swung open before his hand made contact. His astonishment at this fortunate occurrence was exceeded only by his relief at the prospect of shelter from the vicious tempest. He staggered inside with gratitude, and the door swung smoothly back into place with a decisive thump, cutting off most of the clamour of the storm. Despite his exhaustion, the drenched and exhausted child gazed in wonder at his surroundings. Warm, orange light illuminated a vast entrance hall paved with hexagonal slabs of blue and gold. High above him, the boy could see a deep blue vaulted roof studded with star-like, silver points. Soft, almost inaudible music drifted through the hall and he could see a seven-foot high obsidian pyramid, exuding a gentle blue glow. Entranced by his opulent, fabulous surroundings, several minutes passed before the lad become aware of a tall, blue-robed man staring at him, at first sight the very image of a mighty wizard.

Remembering his manners, he managed a courteous, if awkward bow.

****

The tall man regarded the waterlogged apparition with curiosity. "Which mage opened the door for you, child?" he said, his voice tinged with mixed concern and puzzlement.

The waif, who looked to be about seven or eight years of age, wore a nervous and yet earnest expression, as if he might have been wrongly suspected of some prank. His chattering teeth all but robbed him of the power of speech, but Doorkeeper was impressed that the child persevered at delivering his answer; this was no lily-livered milksop.

"N-n-nobody, s-sir, I p-promise. I n-knocked at the d-door, but it opened all by its-s-self. Are you the Ch-ch-chief W-wizard?"

Doorkeeper shook his head, and studied the dripping, shivering child. Explanations could wait; it was plain the boy intended no mischief, and he was clearly in need of food and warmth.