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the touch, I could almost see the crushed heather through his pale flesh. From
his supernal beauty -- it was ... the flame-face, though tranquil-
featured, almost as if in death. And from the adoration I felt swelling in my
heart.
"I also knew it from the way Afreyt acted, kneeling at once like myself beside
him across from me -- though there was something unnatural in her behavior,
betokening an amazing development when we understood it aright, which we did
not then. (More of that later.)
"You know how they say a god dies when his believers utterly fail him?
Well, it was as if this one's last worshipper were dying in Nehwon. Or as if -
- this is closer to it -- all his worshippers had died in his own proper world
and he whirled out into the wild spaces between the worlds, to sink or swim,
survive or perish according to the reception he got in whatever new world
whereon chance cast him ashore. I think it within the power of gods to travel
between the worlds, don't you? -- both involuntarily and also by their own
design. And who knows what unpredictable tempests they might encounter in dark
mid-journey?
"But I was not wasting time in speculations on that day of miracles a year
ago. No, I was chafing his wrists and chest, pressing my warm cheek against
his cold one, prising open his lips with my tongue (his jaw was slack)
and with my open lips clamped upon his (and his nostrils clipped between my
finger and thumb) sending my fresh, new-drawn breaths deep into his lungs, the
meanwhile fervently praying to him in my mind, though I know they say the gods
hear only our words, no thoughts. A stranger, happening upon us, might have
judged us in the second or third act of lovemaking, I the more feverish
seeking to rekindle his ardor.
"Meanwhile Afreyt (again here's that unnatural thing I mentioned)
seemed to be as busy as I across from me --and yet somehow I was doing all the
work. The explanation of that came somewhat later.
"My god showed signs of life. His eyelids quivered, I felt his chest stir,
while his lips began to return my kisses.
"I uncapped my silver flask and dribbled brandy between his lips, alternating
the drops with further kisses and words of comfort and endearment.
"At last he opened his eyes (brown shot with gold, like yours) and with
my help raised up his head, meanwhile muttering words in a strange tongue. I
answered in what languages I know, but he only frowned, shaking his head.
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That's how I knew he was not a Nehwon god --it's natural, don't you think,
that a god, all-knowing in his own world, would be at a loss at first, plunged
into another? He'd have to take it in.
"Finally he smiled and lifted his hand to my bosom, looking at me
questioningly. I spoke my name. He nodded and shaped his lips, repeated it.
Then he touched his own chest and spoke the name 'Loki.'"
At that word the Mouser knew feelings and thoughts similar to those of
Fafhrd hearing "Odin" -- of other lives and worlds, and of Karl Treuherz's
tongue and his little Lankhmarese-German, German-Lankhmarese dictionary that
he'd given Fafhrd. At the same moment, though for that moment only, he saw the
fire-face so like his own in the flames, seeming to wink at him. He frowned
wonderingly.
Cif continued, "Thereafter I fed him crumbs of meat from my script, which he
accepted from my fingers, eating sparingly and sipping more brandy, the whiles
I taught him words, pointing to this and that. That day Darkfire was smoking
thick and showing flames, which interested him mightily when I
named it. So I took flint and iron from my script and struck them together,
naming 'fire.' He was delighted, seeming to gather strength from the sparks
and smouldering straws and the very word. He'd stroke the little flames
without seeming to take hurt. That frightened me.
"So passed the day -- I utterly lost in him, unaware of all else, save what
struck his fancy moment by moment. He was a wondrously apt scholar. I
named objects both in our Rime tongue and Low Lankhmarese, thinking it'd be
useful to him as he got his vision for lands beyond the Isle.
"Evening drew in. I helped the god to his feet. The wan light washing over him
seemed to dissolve a little his pale flesh.
"I indicated Salthaven, that we should walk there. He assented eagerly
(I think he was attracted by its evening smokes, being drawn to fire, his
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