“The world is a large ball of earth, mud, rock, and water, with air surrounding it. As vast as it is, it is but a tiny part of a universe which is large beyond imagining, and full of other worlds, many with life on them.
“There are billions of worlds in the universe.”
“Billions?”
“What has Robert taught you of numbers?” Magnus asked.
“I can add and subtract, multiply and divide, if I am careful.’’
“Better than most men. How many figures can you manage?’’
“I can multiply four numbers by four other numbers.’’
“Then you know what a thousand is.’’
“Ten hundreds,” answered Talon.
“And ten thousands by ten is a hundred thousand.”
“Yes, I understand.”
“And ten such is a million.’’
“Ah,” said Talon, sounding uncertain.
Magnus cast him a sidelong glance and saw that Talon was now lost. “Look, let me explain it this way. Should I give you grains of sand, one each second, in one minute you would have sixty in your hand.’’
“And if you did so for one thousand seconds, I would have a thousand. Yes, I see,” Talon said, anticipating where the lesson was going.
“It would take more than thirteen days for me to hand you a million grains of sand, if I continued at one a second without stopping.”
Talon looked amazed. “That long?’’
“A billion would take me more than thirty years.’’
Talon looked at Magnus in complete disbelief. “Can there be a number that big?’’
“Bigger,” said Magnus. With a slight smile, he said, “Two billion.’’
Talon could only laugh. “And then three billion and four: yes, I see.’’
“There are many billions of worlds in the universe, Talon, perhaps even too many for our gods to know them all.’’
Talon showed no emotion, but it was clear that he found the idea fascinating. Magnus went on, describing a universe of endless variety and possibility.
“What of the life on these other worlds?” Talon asked at one point.
“You’ve heard the stories of the Riftwar?’’
“Yes, told me by my grandfather. He said to the west . . .” Talon paused, then glanced at the sea and said, “. . . the west of our homeland—I guess it might be to the east of here.’’
“No, it is still to the west of here, off on the Far Coast. Continue.”
“He said that men from another world came by magic to wage war on our world, but that the Kingdom repulsed them.’’
“That’s one version,” said Magnus with a wry expression. “I’ll tell you what really happened some other time.’’
“Are these people like us?’’
“As much as the Orosini are like the men of Roldem.’’
“Not very much, then,” said Talon.
“Enough like us that eventually we found common ground and ended the war. You can meet some of their descendants someday.’’
“Where?”
“In Yabon Province of the Kingdom of Isles. Many settled in the city of LaMut.’’
“Ah,” said Talon as if he understood.
They stood there in silence for another half an hour; then Talon said, “We don’t seem to be doing very well.’’
“At catching fish?’’
“Yes.”
“That’s because we’re using the wrong bait.’’
Talon looked at his teacher in surprise. “The wrong bait?’’
“We might hook a bottom feeder or a shark with dried meat, but if we wanted something lively, we should have put a fresh mackerel on the hook.’’
“Then why are we doing this?’’
“Because fishing isn’t about catching fish.” The magician looked into the water, and Talon felt the hair on his arms rise, which meant Magnus was about to use magic. “There,” he said, pointing. He motioned upward with his right hand and something large seemed to leap out of the sea. It was about the size of a small horse, and covered in red scales and had a lethal-looking array of teeth. Once out of the water it thrashed about in midair, attempting to bite at whatever unseen foe held it aloft.
With a flick of his wrist, Magnus let the fish fall back into the waves. “If I want fish, I take fish.’’
“Then why do we stand here with these poles?’’
“For the pleasure of it,” said Magnus. “It’s a way to relax, to think, to ponder.’’
Despite feeling completely silly holding the pole, Talon nevertheless found himself reverting to the lessons he had learned about the process of dragging a hook through the surf.
As the day grew late, he said, “Magnus, may I ask you something?”
“How am I to teach you if you don’t?’’
“Well . . .”
“Out with it,” said Magnus, making another cast into the surf. The wind was picking up, blowing the magician’s white hair back from his face.
“I’m confused about something.”
“What?”
“Women.”
Magnus turned to stare at Talon. “Something specific about women, or just women in general?’’
“In general, I suppose.’’