He swayed slightly upon his distant feet. For a moment he was no longer himself. Or perhaps he was, but he was more, too, assailed by fitful little flashes of memories which he knew he could not know. There were wide vistas sweeping down, down, down through clouds that scudded by over a beautifully hazy land even farther below whose patchwork colors were strange and yet in their own way somehow right. Hammers rang, and sparks flew, and there were laughs and songs and great horns of strange cool drink. The world was fresh and young and new, it seemed, and things were good—
His mind reeled with the new-oldness of it, and then all at once, before he could quite topple into that chasm of the mind and lose himself, Kalesh came back to Kalesh. He staggered and caught himself, and as his eyes sn
