The man disappeared into the back. There was a great deal of clattering. When he came out again, he was carrying a pair of slalom skis. They were heavy and shiny and stiff, with a team sticker still on the tips.

“One of the junior team coaches left me a spare pair after a big race,” he said. “I think these were meant for you.”

Wind stared at the label on top.

U14. La Scara. Train #2.

So some kid had two training pairs. And how many racing pairs? And had just left one behind?

“Come back in an hour, and leave your boots,” said the man. “I will have them waxed for warm snow and set up for you.”

Was that how those kids always had their skis served? Wind was suddenly more than a little bit jealous.

The man shrugged. “C’est ta chance. End of the season. Granting wishes is easier.”

“Merci beaucoup, monsieur,” said Wind. “Thank you very, very much.”