Questions stirred in his daze.
Ruger instinctively wanted to struggle. The discomfort of that prolonged scrutiny and his body's instinctive resistance to losing control both urged him to move, while the sudden shock amplified that long-suppressed desire in his muddled mind.
Thud!
The world spun, and Ruger's forehead slammed into the ground. Instantly clearheaded, he realized he had toppled out of his chair. The sound of the waves returned to his ears. That uninvited taskmaster had left without taking his life or doing anything else. As with every visit and silent departure by his teacher's teacher, Ruger felt as though he had jolted awake from a dream.
The only difference was that final shake of the head.
He rubbed his forehead and climbed to his feet, glancing at the Old Recliner. Breaking that recliner would really spoil his mood. Fortunately, only he had tumbled neatly out of it, landing headfirst.
The cool sea breeze brushed his forehead.
The image of that indistinct figure slowly shaking his head flashed through his mind like the cool breeze.
That was what had made him topple out of his chair and hit the ground.
That casual shake of the head.
At his age, he still has no composure, shaking his head about like that, Ruger thought.
This Old Wizard, with his strange condition, probably had no idea how frightening he was.
Even the smallest gesture terrified the disciples of his disciples, or even the disciples of his disciples' disciples, shaking them to their cores. Someone like Ruger, who had merely fallen out of his chair, had actually handled it quite well. Others might have been frightened into suffocating.
Of course, those who had already died certainly hadn't died of fright. Otherwise, they wouldn't have been smiling when they died.
Ruger raised his eyebrows, making