"Do not look at the light for it will surely blind you. Go to the railing and look at the sea," he said in a fatherly tone. I obeyed and turned back only slightly when he worked a large crank beside me, starting the same mechanical clatter as the night before. We were both bathed in warming white light as he placed his hands next to mine on the railing. A fresh beam cut at the dark and washed over us every ten seconds.

"As much dim distance as a man perceive, from a high lookout o'er a wine-dark sea."

"Is that yours?" I asked.

"Oh no," he mumbled. "It predates me. It is from Homer's Iliad."

I looked out to sea. "It's nice."

"Yes it is," he said, starting down. The lantern he'd left at the bottom of the tower illuminated the nautilus-like spiral of stone stairs below us.

"What's in there?" I asked pointing to the narrow wooden door opposite the one leading into the house.

"Stored goods and supplies." He put a hand on my shoulder. "Come, let us eat."

The hot days passed quickly. Clovis left me alone to my fishing and walks along the deserted beaches while he ceaselessly tended his garden, swept at the ever-encroaching dust and practiced his calligraphy and swordplay. He spoke only at meals and in passing around the house. I felt he did so out of habit more than courtesy. Either way, I relished the solitude. Clovis came out to see me on the morning of the fifth day.

He sat on the beach next to me. "Any luck?" The three tall thin poles of polished bamboo stood erect in the sand.

"Not yet."

"Do you mind if I try one?" he asked.

"No. Please show me how it's done."

He pulled up a pole and retreated back up the beach until the baited hook showed on the end of the clear line.

"These poles look fairly new, where did you get them?"

"They were a gift from Nusel's father. They are easier than using nets." He drew the pole back over his head and cast it off to the right in a sharp whipping motion. "I always have better luck farther down," he said, settling onto the sand.

"Clovis, I want to thank you for allowing me time to be alone these past days."

"It is my way."

"I'm glad you suggested this. Thank you for inviting me."

He nodded curtly and readjusted the pole in his hands. My thanks somehow made him uncomfortable.

"By the way, how are you coming with your demons?" he asked.

I turned toward him, surprised by his direct question. His stone like profile remained locked on the spot where the fishing line disappeared into the swells. "I'm still wrestling with them. How about yours?" I countered.