He stepped back, seeing the picture as he had visualized it-the fresh beauty ofthe girl in the sunlight with her bright hair flowing down her back and her armsfilled with bright flowers. He picked up his brush and took a deep breath,focusing on what he saw.

His awareness of the murmur of conversation at the other end of the room, whereGilla and their middle daughter were preparing the noon meal, faded. He did notturn when one of his sons came in, was shushed by his mother and sent outdoors.The sounds slid past him as his mind stilled, as the tensions of the past daysslipped away.

Now he was himself at last, serenely confident that his hand would obey his eye,that both would reflect the perceptions of his soul. And he knew that not thecommissions, but this confidence in himself, was the true gift of Enas Yorl.Lalo dipped his brush in the paint and began to work.

The bar of light had moved halfway across the floor when Zorra abruptlystraightened and let her flowers fall to the floor.

'This had better be worth it!' she complained. 'My back hurts, and my arms arefalling off.' She flexed her shoulders and bent back and forth to ease thestrain.

Lalo blinked, trying to orient himself. 'No, not yet - it's not finished -' hebegan, but Zorra was already moving towards him.

'What do you mean, I can't look? It's my picture, isn't it?' She stopped short,staring. Lalo's eyes followed her gaze back to the picture, and appalled, he letthe brush slip from his hand.

The face that looked at him from the easel had eyes narrowed with cupidity, lipsdrawn back in a predatory grin. The red hair flamed like a fox's brush, andsomehow the rounded limbs had been distorted so that she looked as if she wereabout to spring. Lalo shuddered, looking from the girl to the picture and backagain.

'You whoreson maggoty bastard, what have you done to me?' She rounded on himfuriously, then turned back to the picture, snatched up his palette knife, andbegan to stab at the canvas. 'That's not me! That's hateful! You hate women,don't you? You hate my father, too, but just you wait! You'll be living with theDownwinders by the time he gets through with you!'

The floor shook as Gilla charged towards them. Lalo staggered back as she thrustbetween him and the half-naked girl, squeezed Zorra's wrist until the littleknife clattered to the floor.

'Get dressed, you hussy! I'll have no such language where my children can hear!'snapped Gilla, ignoring the fact that they heard far worse every time they wentinto the Bazaar.

'And you too, you bloated sow!' Zorra pulled away, began to struggle into herclothes. 'You're too gross for even Amoli to hire -I hope you end on the streetswhere you belong!' The door slammed behind her and they heard her clatter downthe rickety stairs.

'I hope she breaks her neck. Her father still hasn't fixed those stairs,' saidGilla calmly.

Lalo bent stiffly to pick up his palette knife. 'She's right...' He took a steptowards the mutilated picture. 'Damn him ...' he whispered. 'He tricked me - heknew that this would happen. May all the gods damn Enas Yorl!'

Gilla looked at the picture and began to laugh. 'No ... really,' she gasped,'it's an excellent likeness. You only saw her pretty face. I know what she'sbeen up to. Her fiance killed himself when she threw him over for that gorillafrom the Prince's guard. The vixen is out for all she can get, which the picturemakes abundantly clear. No wonder she hated it!'

Lalo slumped. 'But I've been betrayed ...'

'No. You got what you asked for, poor love. You have painted that wretchedgirl's soul!'

Lalo leaned on the splintery railing of the abandoned wharf, staring withunfocused eyes into the golden dazzle cast upon the waters by the setting sun asif by wishing hard enough he could become one with that beauty and forget hisdespair. I have only to climb over this flimsy barrier and let myself/all... Heimagined the feel of the bitter waters closing over him, and the blessed releasefrom pain.

Then he looked down, and shuddered, not entirely because of the cooling wind.The murky waters were littered with obscene gobbets that had once been part ofliving things - offal flushed down the gutters from the shambles of Sanctuary tothe sea. Lalo's gorge rose at the thought of that water touching him. He turnedaway, sank down with his back against the wall of a shanty the fishermensometimes used.

Like everything else I see, he thought, whatever seems fairest is sure to bemost foul within!

A ship moved majestically across the harbour, passed the lighthouse anddisappeared around the point. Lalo had thought of shipping out on such a vessel,but he was too unskilled for a sailor, too frail for a common hand. Even thesolace of the taverns was denied to him. In the Green Grape they wouldcongratulate him on the success that was impossible now, while the clients atthe Vulgar Unicorn would try to rob him, and beat him senseless when theydiscovered his poverty. How could he ever explain, even to Cappen Varra, whathad happened to him?

The planks on which he was sitting shook beneath a heavy tread. Gilla ... Lalotensed, waiting for her accusations, but she only sighed, as if releasing penthope, or fear.

'I hoped I'd find you here...' Grunting, she eased down beside him, unslung andhanded him an earthenware pot with a narrow spout. 'Better drink this before itgets cold.'

He nodded, took a long swallow of fragrant herb tea laced with wine, thenanother, and set the pot down.

Gilla pulled her shawl around her, stretched out her legs and settled backagainst the wall. Two gulls swooped overhead, squabbling over a piece of flesh.A heavy swell set wavelets lapping against the pilings below them, then therewas silence again.

In the shared stillness, warmed by the tea and by Gilla's body, something thathad been wound tight within Lalo began to ease.

'Gilla ...' he said at last, 'what am I going to do?'

'The other two models failed?'

'They were worse than Zorra. Then I started the portrait of the Portmaster'swife... Fortunately I got the sketch away before she could see it. She lookedlike her lapdog!' He drank again.

'Poor Lalo.' Gilla shook her head. 'It's not your fault that all your unicornsturned out to be rhinoceroses!'

He remembered the old fable about the rhinoceros who looked into a magic mirrorand saw there a unicorn, but it did not comfort him. 'Is everything beautifulonly a mask for rottenness, or is it only that way in Sanctuary?' He burst outthen, 'Oh Gilla, I've failed you and the children. We're ruined, don't youunderstand? I cannot even hope anymore!'

She turned a little, but did not touch him, as if she understood that anyattempt at comfort would be more than he could bear.

'Lalo ...' she cleared her throat and started again. 'It's all right - we'll getby some way. And you haven't failed ... you haven't failed our dream! You madethe right choice - don't I know that it was me and the children in the firstplace that kept you from what you were meant to do?

'Anyhow -' she tried to turn her emotion to laughter, 'if worst comes to worstI can model for you -just for you to get the basic lines of the figures,of course,' she added apologetically. 'After all these years I doubt I haveany flaws that you don't already know...'

Lalo set down the teapot, turned and looked at her. In the light of the settingsun Gilla's face, into which the years had carved so many lines, was like aweathered image which some worshipper had gilded in an attempt to disguise itsage. This bitter line for poverty endured, that, for the death of a child ...Could all the sorrows of a world have marked a goddess more?