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in a dull daze . . . as if time had slowed down and she could hear the ticking of a clock that was part
her heart s beat and part her stomach s dread. A reprieve, but a short one. She had to find Alexan-
dria.
The carriage swayed over the road in its haste toward the famed Geneva doctor the Président du
Conseil had mentioned could help Gabriel with his  headaches. He had asked Gabriel if something
was troubling him the day before when they discussed lodgings and the lottery, probably the result
of Gabriel startling so easily and pressing his fingers against his temples.
He couldn t help it. It was distracting . . . and frightening. The colors came with a frequency that
made him feel as if he was speeding toward an inevitable event a fatal event.
Even now, as the coach bumped over the road, he saw splashes of yellow coming from the wheels
as if they were plowing through water puddles, creating streams of water and droplets on either
side. He closed his eyes and took a long breath. Perhaps this would work.
Perhaps this was God s plan.
The president had expounded upon Dr. Von Travers s talent as one would a prophet of old. It was
worth the chance, the time taken away. Gabriel had instructed Sophie and Alexandria to go ahead
with the lottery and the balloon ride without him. He couldn t let this opportunity pass by and never
know if this man could help him.
The thought of something happening, something going wrong with the winner s ride wouldn t quite
go away, but he pushed it aside. Sophie had been piloting her balloon for years. She didn t need
him. But still . . .
Alexandria. He hated to leave her alone, even for a little while. Dangers lurked everywhere, even
this far from France.
The coach turned down a side street and stopped in front of a quaint-looking cottage nestled around
other similarly shaped cottages. The door to the carriage was flung open and he stepped out, adjust-
ed his coat, and placed his felt hat on his head. As the door shut behind him he saw green, bright
and almost alive, burst from both sides of his peripheral vision. With a deep breath he took the steps
to the door.
His knock on the door made orange sparks fly from his knuckles. It wasn t appearing just with mu-
sic anymore, something that hadn t been so bad, especially when he couldn t hear the music. Now it
was, at times, almost any sound making the colors. And it was too much. He needed help.
The door opened to reveal a little white-haired man with tiny spectacles perched on a large nose. He
wore a wide, white apron bulging with metal devices and cords that spilled over to dangle to his
knees. He squinted up at Gabriel, his eyes seeming to take a long time to focus.
 Yes? What is it you want?
 I ve come to see Dr. Von Travers. Is he in residence?
 In residence? Well, he lives here if that s what you mean. What s your business?
Gabriel glanced around and noted a few passersby.
He wasn t about to explain his affliction on the front stoop.  Ah, it s somewhat of a . . . delicate
matter. Might I see the doctor?
 You re not blind are you?
 No.
 Well, then you re seeing him! The man turned abruptly away and wandered into the dark interior.
Gabriel broke off a laugh and made his way into the room after him, closing the door behind them.
They came to a sitting room, well, that was his best guess. The room was cluttered with various
paraphernalia. Books, loose papers with writing scattered across in the most illegible manner, in-
struments some looking more medical and others from differing branches of science. And
stacks and stacks of papers.
 I ve not cleaned out the examining room yet. The man patted his apron, which gave a clinking
sound, and looked around the room as if seeing it for the first time.
 My housekeeper left me, you see. He shrugged.  Third one this year. He waved his hand toward
the sofa.  Just clear a corner, would you? Squeeze in and don t inter-rupt too much, you see?
 Yes. Gabriel cleared his throat.  I think I do. He perched on the arm of the loaded-down furni-
ture.
 What seems to be the problem with you?
Gabriel was at a sudden loss for words. Where to begin?
The man squinted at him.  Start with what ails you and we ll work backward.
Gabriel nodded. Seemed a good enough plan.  I see sound in colors.
The man s eyes lit up like a storm-laden night.  Go on.
 Well. Nearly a year ago I had a terrible, exploding feeling in my brain, or in my ears, I m not cer-
tain which, but I woke up the next morning stone-cold deaf.
 Interesting. Interesting indeed. What else?
 In the months that followed my hearing came and went. I was traveling a great deal and it seemed
to change depending on where I was. I went north to Northumberland and my hearing improved.
Then on the way to Ireland aboard a ferry, I lost it again. I get horribly seasick, you see, and my
ability to hear would either become better or worse when aboard a ship. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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