About to retrace my steps to Tarla, I halted as movement of some sort past the window caught my eye. No more than a flash of tan had there been, yet the thought came that perhaps Lialt was to be found without the dwelling to its rear. In truth, I had little wish to find the male, yet Tarla had seemed most anxious, and Hosta shall ever repay assistance to those to whom it is due. Tarla had served me well in the weakness of my wounds, and now might I, in some measure, return her aid. I strode to the window, feeling the warmth of the dwelling caused by the fire, and looked through to the outside. Beyond the woven window cover lay naught save a clearing, beyond that the beginning of the forest. Trees now waved gently in the wind which had sprung up, yet they waved to emptiness for naught living appeared to my sight. The window cover, made fast to the frame with rebal sap and woven from the clear thread of the commonly found tree maglessa, took very little from the true view of that which lay beyond the window. Midanna themselves have no need of the light thread produced by the maglessa, yet often is it found in use by village males and their slave-women. Those of the village of Islat, a place in the lands of Midanna, also make use of the thread for their windows, yet the woven cloth is placed upon a frame which may be swung wide from the window itself. In such a manner do Islat folk make use of the cloth to protect their dwellings from the rains of Mida, and at other times swing the frames wide to allow entrance to the sweet, warm air of our land. Water and air find no easy passage through the thread, a thing to be thankful for in the village of those called Belsayah, a place where there is little in all to be thankful for.
There being no further reason to stand before the window I began to step away, yet my gaze was immediately taken by that which lay upon the small, low platform beneath the window. I had not earlier seen the contents of the platform for my gaze had been for that which lay beyond the window, yet now I saw with great pleasure that Lialt had left a pipe and sack to hand, a fire-maker within easy reach of them. Long had it been since last I had filled a pipe, and surely had I thought that those of the cities knew naught of the pleasure a well-filled pipe might give. The pipe, carved from the black wood of the binda tree, lay smooth and inviting upon the platform, its very presence proclaiming its availability for use. Should one not wish one’s pipe used, one puts it beyond the sight of others.
Eagerly I took the pipe up, admiring the rubbed smoothness of its bowl, then opened the leather sack from which it might be filled. The grains within appeared odd, small, coarse and brown as they should have been, yet also with some bits of yellow well mixed within it. I considered the mixture briefly, then shrugged and filled the pipe. That Lialt used the mixture proved its acceptability, for what may a male do that a warrior may not?
The lenga pelt at my feet seemed equally as inviting as the pipe, therefore I seated myself before putting the flamemaker to its use. The discomfort of the garment I wore tempted me to call Mida’s vengeance down upon it, yet I refrained as I puffed the pipe to life. The taste of it was not unpleasant, a sweetness seemingly added by the yellow substance, and I leaned back in comfort, shaking my hair from my arms as I drew further upon the stem, the aches and strains of the fey draining slowly from my body and mind.
Not long had I lain there, full upon the lenga pelt, drawing upon the pipe, when a great lethargy came over me. My arms and legs, no more than normally weary earlier, now felt possessed of great weight and little strength, much as though I were once again chained beneath the ground in Bellinard, and my vision swam about as though seeking a new viewpoint. Hand and pipe dropped as one to the wood beyond the pelt, my head fell to the pelt in a cloud of sweet-smelling smoke, and my hearing, keen as only that of a hunter and warrior might be, no longer touched the sounds of the world about me. Great clouds of white billowed, at once within as well as about me, and I no longer felt the warmth of the dwelling nor the discomfort of the garment. More thickly did the clouds swirl, thick as bits of leaves from the trees, yet lighter, as light as down from the feathered children of the wild. Well I knew that I lay upon the lenga fur in Lialt’s dwelling, more helpless than when I lay beneath the spears of the Silla, yet I felt that I stood elsewhere, a distant land that was not a true land, a place where none save shadows dwelt. A feeling of menace caused me to stare about, to see what stood beyond the concealing clouds. No longer was my body constrained by the presence of garment and fur leg-wrappings, a thing most pleasurable—yet more than disturbing in its unexpectedness. I felt as though there were eyes upon me from out of the white, eyes sober with intensity, hard with deep-seeking interest, a feeling which caused me to move even farther from where I had first found myself. An unmeasured time I moved so, gaining very little distance as movement through the white was difficult, and then with unsettling suddenness the whiteness thinned to where I might see farther than my hand before my face, yet that which I saw was no comfort. The white was deeply piled upon the ground beneath my feet, stretching far into the distance with naught to obstruct it, yet was it plain to see that many tracks ran through the mounds, tracks which led in many hands of directions. I stood upon the soft whiteness, staring about at the tracks, and then my eyes went farther, to where the tracks led. Most tracks disappeared from sight into the distance, yet some seemed to lead, a long way off, to tiny movement of tiny forms. Much curiosity filled me as to what the movement might be, and despite the remaining sense of presence, I wished to go closer to the movement. There was a ripple in the unseen presence about me, disapproval strong and clear, yet the call of the movement ahead was strong, as though I were bound to it in some manner. I took a step forward, feeling the disapproval increase though I cared naught for it, and the call of the movement increased as well. I would go to the place which lured me so, for there, I felt sure, lay knowledge which I would do well to have.
No more than three steps did I take when Lialt abruptly appeared from nothingness, a hand of paces away, and his eyes found me where I stood.
“Jalav, return with me at once!” said he, angrily though I had not heard his voice. His lips had moved, forming the words he had wished to speak to me, yet no sound had traveled between us. The meaning of his speaking alone had come, deep within my head, and I saw that he, too, was unclothed. His very presence was annoyance, for I had no wish to share that place, nor was I yet prepared to return. Without speaking I turned from him and began to move toward my goal, yet the movement was still as slow as it had been—for me. Lialt, somehow, had not the difficulty that I found, and within three paces he had come far enough from where he had stood to place an arm before me.