The Door Into Fire

'I could see where it would, yes.'

'So off we went, back to the inn again. Up she went, cool as you please, got our things from our rooms. The innkeeper sees her, and he says, "Madam, if you please, where are you going with those?" and Segnbora smiles at him and says, "Sir, if you want every skin of wine or tun of ale in your place to get the rot, ask on. Otherwise—" and out the door she goes, gets the horses from the stables and rides off. We met her a few streets away and got out of there in a hurry.'

Herewiss chuckled. 'I wonder why she did it.'

'I asked her. Evidently she's related to one of the Forty Noble Houses, and she said something about "They may not hold by the Oath, but I do, by Goddess—" I believe her.'

'I think you can.'

Freelorn smiled a little. 'Well, this venture will be safer with all of us along. Damn, I hope you're right about the doors! Suppose there was one into another Arlen where I'm king—'

'You'd be there already. And how would you feel if you were king, and another Freelorn popped out of nowhere to contest your claim to the throne?'

'I'd-uhh.'

'—kill the bastard? Very good. Better stay here and do what you can with this world.'

Freelorn looked at Herewiss and smiled again, but this time his eyes were grave.

'Come on,' he said, 'let's see how dinner is doing.'

Stars shone on them again; this time the warm constellations of spring: Dolphin and Maiden and Flamesteed and Stave. The Lion stood near the zenith, the red star of its heart glittering softly through the still air.

They held one another close, and closer yet, and found to their delight that nothing seemed to have changed between them.

A soft chuckle in the darkness.

'Lorn, you remember that first time we shared at your place?' 'That was a long time ago.' 'It seems that way.'

'—and my father yelled up the stairs, "What are you dooooooooing?"'

'—and you yelled back, "We're fuckinnnnnnnnnnng!"'

'—and it was quiet for so long—'

'—and then he started laughing—'

'Yeah.'

A silence.

'You know, he really loved you. He always wanted another son. He always used to say that now he had one . . .'

Silence.

'Lorn — one way or another, I'm going to see you on your throne.' 'Get your Power first.'

'Yeah. But then we get your throne back for you. I think I owe him that.'

'Your Power first. He was concerned about that.' 'Yes ... he would have been. Well, we'll see.'

A pause. A desert owl floated silently overhead and away, like a wandering ghost.

'Dusty?'

Herewiss started a little. No-one had called him by that name since Herelaf's death.

'What?'

'After I'm king — what will you do?' 'I haven't the faintest idea.' 'Really?'

'I haven't thought about it much. I don't let myself.— Heal the sick, I guess, talk to Dragons — make it rain when it's dry — travel around — walk the Otherworlds—'

There was a sinking silence under the blankets; suddenly disappointment and fear flavored the air like smoke. Herewiss was confused by the perception. His underhearing sometimes manifested itself at odd moments, but never without reason.

'Dusty — don't forget me.'

'Forget you? Forget you! How do I forget my loved? Lorn, put it out of your mind. How could I forget you? If only fr—'

Herewiss cut himself off, shocked, hearing the thought complete itself inside his head:'—from all the trouble you've caused me—'

'From what?'

My Goddess. How can I think such things? What's the matter with me!!'—from all the distance I've had to travel to get into your bed . . .'

Freelorn made a small sound in his throat, a brief quiet sigh of acceptance. 'I'm glad you did,' he said.

'Again?' 'Why not? The night is young.' 'And so are we.'

6

Whatever may be said of the Goddess, this much is certain: She enjoys a good joke. For proof of this, examine yourself or any other member of the human race closely -and then laugh along with Her.

Deeds of the Heroes, 18, vi

'I thought you said it was just another fifteen miles.'

'Well, I thought it was . . .'

'Maybe the river changed its banks.'

'The Stel? Unlikely. Maybe I got us lost.'

'Likely.'

The eight of them rode along through country that was becoming increasingly inhospitable. The gently rolling scrub country of southern Steldin had given way to near-desert terrain. It was afternoon, and hot. A steady, maddening east wind blew dust into their eyes, and into their horses' eyes, down their collars and up their sleeves, into their boots and even into their undertunics. Even the most casual movement would sand some part of the body raw.

Herewiss sighed. For the past two hours or so Freelorn had been straining his eyes toward the horizon, swearing at himself for having lost the river. He had been abusing himself so skillfully that Herewiss, in exasperation, had joined in and helped him for a few minutes. Now he was regretting it.

'Lorn, Lorn, the Dark with it,' he said. 'You can't lose the Stel.

If you just go east far enough, you're bound to run into it.'

'It is possible,' Freelorn said tightly, 'to lose just about anything.'

'Including your mind, if you work at it hard enough. Lorn, relax. Worse things could happen.'

'Oh?'

'Certainly. A cohort of Fyrd could find us. Or the Dark Hunt. Or the Goddess could sneeze and forget to keep the world in place, and we'd all go out like candles. Don't be so grim, Lorn. It'll work out all right.'

Freelorn's poor Blackmane, half-blind with the dust, sneezed mightily and then bumped sideways into Sun-spark. Herewiss's mount didn't respond, but Blackmane danced away with a whicker of scorched surprise, nearly throwing Freelorn out of the saddle. He regained his balance and looked suspiciously at the stallion.

'None of our horses care much for that one of yours,' he said. 'What happened to Darrafed?'

'She's home.'

'Dapple?'

'He was with me partway. I sent him back.' 'Is that safe?'

Herewiss laughed. 'Safe? Dapple? He'll probably rescue a princess on the way home.'

'Where did this one come from, then?'

'I don't know,' Herewiss said, which was certainly the truth. 'I found him.' 'I know that look,' Freelorn said. 'You've got a secret.'

Herewiss said nothing, and tried to keep from smiling.

'Sorcerers,' Freelorn said in good-natured disgust. 'Well, have it your way. Where the Dark is the river?!'

'It'll be along. Lorn, you didn't tell me. What were you doing in Madeil?'

'Oh ... I was meeting a man who was supposed to know a way into the Royal Treasury at Osta. He had been there as a guard some years back, but he moved to Steldin when my father died and everything was going crazy.'

'Did you meet him?'

'Oh, yes. That was what we had been at the tavern for.

It was about half an hour after he left that the guards came in.'

'Why were you still there?'

Freelorn looked guilty. 'Well ... it had been so long since any of us had a chance to get really drunk.'