What was he doing?
Ruger instinctively slowed his steps. Although the other man had been talking to him amiably all along, he did not rashly speak up.
Had the Old Wizard given him permission? Was this the difference between High-Rank Wizards and Low-Rank Wizards? Or simply between individual Wizards?
So they were being rewarded differently? Was that side more suitable for this fellow to rest in?
Thoughts flickered through Ruger's mind, but his feet carried him closer to the other side-the left side of the corridor, with its four doors, where he had been permitted to go.
The amiable fellow raised his hand with a smile, his steps steady and even. The handle was right before him. With just one more step, his palm would naturally touch the second of the eleven doors counting from the laboratory end.
Although the doors seemed no different from one another, Ruger always felt they represented something, especially after he had opened one and found a wondrous garden.
Ruger's fur trembled slightly, and his heartbeat steadied as he suppressed his unusual reactions.
This fellow was watching him.
The fellow with his hand raised, about to touch the handle-the fellow walking beside him down the corridor while talking-was watching his reactions with every move he made.
Ruger recognized the familiar sensation. He sometimes did the same himself, using words and actions to gauge someone else's response.
For a High-Rank Wizard, observing a Low-Rank Wizard's subtle reactions could hardly have been easier.
Unfortunately, this fellow was a step too late.
Even if he lowered himself to engage in distracting small talk, using the disparity in their status to put pressure on Ruger, and even if Ruger was exhausted after a grueling experiment, he was bound to see nothing. At least, a stimulus of this level would