Free Legend of the Sorcerer by Donna Kauffman

several stairs and along the inlaid path to the central courtyard.
    She didn’t notice the sculptures at first. They didn’t stand on carefully placed pedestals as the formality of the garden would suggest. They were tucked here and there,peeking from hedgerows and underneath lush blossoms, overseeing pathways and tending to some of the flowers. “They are delightful. I love this.”
    “Go, explore.” Alfred gave her a soft push to the elbow. “I’ll sit here and enjoy your adventure.”
    There were gnomes, elves, and other mystical creatures she couldn’t identify. Jordy followed the sound of a small, trickling stream to find a burbling water fountain in the center of a pond filled with water lilies. And floating on them were tiny marble fairies. She knelt down and marveled over the intricate detail carved into each one.
    “They are each different, to my exact specifications.”
    Alfred stood at the entrance to this particular quadrant, looking at her like a father would a child of whom he was particularly fond. She wanted to bask in the warmth of his smile.
    She’d enjoyed her solitude, her focus on her work, but in that moment she realized what she’d forfeited. The wealth of emotion, the rich reward, that came from truly connecting with another human being. She wouldn’t make that sacrifice again. She couldn’t, now that she’d felt this sense of belonging. She thought of Cai and the tense moments they’d shared on the boat. Belonging … longing …
    “This is a wonderland, Alfred. I hope you’re as proud of this as any other achievement you’ve made.” She turned a slow circle, surveying what she could see in this area, and found several more sculptures she’d missed. “It’s magical. I feel as if I’ve been transported to some other realm, where things aren’t what they seem, but exactly what you want them to be. That sounds silly.” She grinned at him. “But maybe you of all people would understand.”
    “Your heart is a pure one, Jordalyn.”
    Like a sharp pin, that name burst the bubble.
    “Come now, don’t let the magic go.” He stepped closerto her and she saw, behind the caring grandfatherly gaze, a deeper fire there, pulling at her.
    She stepped back without really understanding why. She didn’t feel at risk. Or did she? But it was a risk that tantalized, challenged. Just as his grandson had tantalized and challenged her earlier. “How do you know my full name?”
    His smile didn’t falter, neither did the intensity—or warmth—of his gaze. “After we spoke on the phone, I was interested in your work, so I looked into it. You should use your full name, it is quite lovely you know.”
    “Thank you.” She signed her work Jordy, always had. Her business had all been done in that name. But she wasn’t going to quibble with him. He’d obviously dug it up somehow. Information was much easier to come by in these days of high technology.
    She turned her attention back to the statuary. “You have some wonderful pieces here. I’d love to know about the artists.”
    “Most of them came from the same woman. She resides near my home in Wales.”
    Surprised, she asked, “Do you still have a home there?”
    “I haven’t been back in a very long time,” was all he said. “I commission pieces from Mara through the mail and over the phone. A delightful woman.”
    “Well, she does wonderful work. Very inspiring.”
    “She’d be flattered. I’ll pass along your comments. Come this way and see the piece I wanted you to look at.”
    “I don’t know how you keep this up without any help.”
    “Digging my hands into the earth helps me maintain balance. There is nothing like sifting dirt between one’s fingers to keep in mind the eternity of life and one’s minuscule part in it.”
    She sighed. The man did have a way with words. “I’ve never had much of a green thumb, but just being out here makes me want to grow something.”
    “Well then, grow something you shall. You must