Only Raphael sat up, crouched half-naked beside the fish pond, and the fish circled at his feet. He was talking with Damiano. “You look much better, I think,” the spirit was saying. “Except for your nose.” “My nose,” repeated Raphael. He touched that member for identification and winced at the result. “It hurts. And it whistles when I breathe through it.” Moonlight had bleached the gold from his hair and reduced the glorious color of his black eye to mere shadows. He glimmered as insubstantially as his friend the ghost. Damiano’s cloudy suggestion of a face drew closer and darkened in sympathy. He said, “I can hear it. A very musical sound, as befits a teacher of music. But I know a cure for the problem.” “Tell me!” Though weeks of humanity had taught Raphael some sophistication, his face still reflected his every feeling, and now his perfect blue eyes (one of them rimmed in purple and green) pleaded with Damiano. “It takes bravery.” Raphael nodded soberly.
What do You think about The Damiano Series (1990)?
