The Seeker (1): An artist grinds lapis to make blue,
lead to make white, giving colour and dimension to the
artifice on his canvas. How not to spend his entire career
inventing techniques known by the painters who
have gone before?
Testimony, I:8
“Damian? Damian, wake up! Da—”
“Bloody bastard, watch out for the—oh, I’ll bloody murder you, you son of a—”
“Damian!”
“What? What is it?”
“The light burnt out, you were having a dream. A nightmare.”
“Don’t be an idiot. I don’t have nightmares.”
“Then you were locked in battle against invisible foes. Here, I’ve turned on the other lamp. Are you all right?”
“Of course I’m all right. I just need some air.”
“The window is open.”
“I have to get out.”
“If you try and stop me, I’ll hit you.”
“I wasn’t going to stop you. But tomorrow? We’ll divide up.”
“Now there’s a pity.”
“And, Damian? Take your coat. You’re dripping with sweat.”