‘It doesn’t look like any dog I’ve ever seen.’

‘You have to use your imagination. How is it you’ve never thought of steering by the stars before?’

She shrugged. ‘Probably because I can see farther than you can. You see the sky as a surface – a kind of overturned bowl with the stars painted on it all at the same distance from you. That’s why you can see that cluster of stars as a dog’s head. I can’t, because I can see the difference in distances. Keep an eye on your dog, Sparhawk. Let me know if we start to drift off-course.’

The moon-bathed cloud beneath them began to flow smoothly back again, and they flew on in silence for a while. This isn’t so bad,’ Sparhawk said. ‘At least not when you get used to it.’

‘It’s better than walking,’ the gauze-clad Goddess replied.

‘It made my hair stand on end right at first, though.’

‘Sephrenia’s never gotten past that stage. She starts gibbering in panic as soon as her feet come up off the ground.’

Sparhawk remembered something. ‘Wait a minute,’ he objected. ‘When we killed Ghwerig and stole the Bhelliom, you came floating up out of that chasm in his cave, and she walked out across the air to meet you. She wasn’t gibbering in panic then.’

‘No. It was probably the bravest thing she’s ever done. I was so proud of her that I almost burst.’

‘Was she conscious at all? When you found her, I mean?’

‘Off and on. She was able to tell us who’d attacked her. I managed to slow her heartbeat and take away the pain. She’s very calm now.’ Aphrael’s voice quavered. ‘She expects to die, Sparhawk. She can feel the wound in her heart, and she knows what that means. She was giving Xanetia a last message for Vanion when I left.’ The young Goddess choked back a sob. ‘Can we talk about something else?’

‘Of course.’ Sparhawk’s eyes flickered away from the constellation in the night sky. ‘There are mountains sticking up out of the clouds just ahead.’

‘We’re almost there, then. Dirgis is in the big basin lying beyond that first ridge.’

Their rapid flight began to slow. They passed over the snowy peaks of the southern-most expanse of the mountains of Atan, peaks that rose out of the clouds like frozen islands, and found that there was only thin cloud-cover over the basin lying beyond.

They descended, drifting down like dandelion puffs toward the forest-covered hills and valleys of the basin, a landscape sharply etched in the moonlight that leeched out all color. There was another cluster of lights some distance to the left – ruddy torches in narrow streets and golden candlelight in little windows. ‘That’s Dirgis,’ Aphrael said. ‘We’ll set down outside of town. I should probably change back before we go on in.’

‘Either that or put on some more clothes.’

That really bothers you, doesn’t it, Sparhawk? Am I ugly or something?’

‘No. Quite the opposite – and that bothers me all the more. I can’t think while you’re standing around naked, Aphrael.’

‘Im not really a woman, Sparhawk – not in the sense that seems to bother you so much, anyway. Can’t you think of me as a mare – or a doe?’

‘No, I can’t. Just do whatever you have to do, Aphrael. I don’t really think we need to talk about how I think of you.’

‘Are you blushing, Sparhawk?’

‘Yes, as a matter of fact I am. Now can we drop it?’

‘That’s really rather sweet, you know.’

‘Will you stop?’

They came down in a secluded little glen about a half-mile from the outskirts of Dirgis, and Sparhawk turned his back while the Child Goddess once again assumed the more familiar form of the Styric waif they all knew as Flute. ‘Better?’ she asked when he turned around.

‘Much.’ He picked her up and started toward town, his long legs stretching out in a rapid stride. He concentrated on that. It seemed to help him avoid thinking.

They went directly into town, made one turn off the main street, and came to a large, two-story building. ‘This is it,’ Aphrael said. ‘We’ll just go in and up the stairs. I’ll make the innkeeper look the other way.’

Sparhawk pushed open the door, crossed the common-room on the main floor and went up the stairs.

They found Xanetia all aglow and cradling Sephrenia in her arms. The two women were on a narrow bed in a small room with roughly squared-off log walls. It was one of those snug, comfortable rooms such as one finds in mountain inns the world over. It had a porcelain stove, a couple of chairs, and a nightstand beside each bed. A pair of candles cast a golden light on the pair on the bed. The front of Sephrenia’s robe was covered with blood, and her face was deathly pale, tinged slightly with that fatal grey. Sparhawk looked at her, and his mind suddenly filled with flames. ‘I will cause hurt to Zalasta for this,’ he growled in Trollish.

Aphrael gave him a startled look. Then she also spoke in the guttural language of the Trolls. ‘Your thought is good, Anakha,’ she agreed fiercely. ‘Cause much hurt to him.’ The rending sound of the Trollish word for “hurt” seemed very satisfying to both of them. ‘His heart still belongs to me, though,’ she added. ‘Has there been any change?’ she asked Xanetia, lapsing into Tamul.

‘None, Divine One,’ Xanetia replied in a voice near to exhaustion. I am lending our dear sister of mine own strength to sustain her, but I am nearly spent. Soon both she and I will die.’

‘Nay, gentle Xanetia,’ Aphrael said. I will not lose you. Fear not, however. Anakha hath come with Bhelliom to restore ye both.’

‘But that must not be,’ Xanetia protested. ‘To do so would put the life of Anakha’s Queen in peril. Better that thy sister and I both perish than that.’

‘Don’t be noble, Xanetia,’ Aphrael told her tartly. ‘It makes my hair hurt. Talk to Bhelliom, Sparhawk. Find out how we’re supposed to do this.’

‘Blue Rose,’ Sparhawk said, touching his fingers to the bulge under his smock.

‘I hear thee, Anakha.’ The voice in Sparhawk’s mind was a whisper.

‘We have come unto the place where Sephrenia lies stricken.’

‘Yes.’

‘What must we now do? I implore thee, Blue Rose, do not increase the peril of my mate.’

‘Thine admonition is unseemly, Anakha. It doth bespeak a lack of trust. Let us proceed. Surrender thy will to me. It is through thy lips that I must speak with Anarae Xanetia.’