The Fool had walked half a morning from his father's door when he noticed the small white dog behind him. It kept ten paces back, a puff of fur on quick legs. He did not know its name. He did not know where he himself was going. That morning he had taken bread, a knife, and his father's old coat, tied them in a napsack, and stepped onto the road because he believed God would lead him where he belonged. He had not planned further than the doorway. The dog had not been part of any plan either. He slowed to shift the staff on his shoulder, and the dog growled. The sound was small but flat, the kind that means the next sound will be teeth. The Fool stopped. The dog stopped. He crouched and held out a corner of bread. The dog did not take it. It stared at his hand and pulled its lip back over one white tooth. When he stood, it stopped growling. When he tried a step off the path toward a hedge, it lunged forward a half-body length and snapped the air. "She wants you moving." The Fool turned. His neighbor stood at the low gate of a weathered cottage, white robes bright against the dark wood. A red cape hung off one shoulder. A sword, a cup, and a coin swung at his belt, and he held a thin white wand in one hand. The Fool had passed this cottage a hundred times as a boy. He had never spoken to the man who lived in it. The Magician walked out to the road and looked down at the dog. The dog sat. "That is not a stray," the Magician said. "A stray runs from a staff. She has been waiting for you. She is your familiar. She came to walk with you." He crouched and offered the back of his hand. The dog licked it once. "She growled because you stopped. You are not meant to stop yet. Neither am I." He straightened and tightened the strap on his belt. "I will come with you. The sword is for cutting through doubt. You will meet plenty." The Fool opened his mouth to ask where they were going. The Magician was already stepping past him onto the road. The dog rose and trotted after. The Fool looked back once at the cottage, then at the small white shape at the Magician's heel, then at the road ahead, and he followed. He tore off a piece of bread as he walked and held it low. This time the dog took it.