But he needed more, proof of my dedication. A demonstration. A leap of faith. And as I stood there, a piece of story came to mind. So Taborlin fell, but he did not despair. For he knew the name of the wind, and so the wind obeyed him. It cradled and caressed him. It bore him to the ground as gently as a puff of thistledown. It set him on his feet softly as a mother’s kiss. Elodin knew the name of the wind. Still looking him in the eye, I stepped off the edge of the roof. Elodin’s expression was marvelous. I have never seen a man so astonished. I spun slightly as I fell, so he stayed in my line
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