The Gift

"Are you going to eat that meat or torture it!"

Tir'shan glanced up from the meal that he had barely tasted to his discerning dinner companion. The northerner who had made the damning exclamation set his elbow on the long wooden table, then, in irritation, rested his chin upon his fist.

The mystic pushed the plate of meat toward his snow leopard friend. "Finish it if you wish. I have no appetite tonight."

Ryndi's grey-green eyes narrowed with displeasure. "You need to eat," he growled. The priest of V'sri'sar shoved the dish back toward Tir'shan with such force as to almost cause it to careen off the table's surface. It balanced precariously on the edge. A single jolt would have sent its contents spilling onto the giant's lap.

The mystic looked with annoyance at the little dots of gravy that soiled the sleeves of his blue robe. "I won't gain any nutrition by wearing the meal, Ryn," he protested, setting the plate safely aside.

The wispy scarf that Ryndi clutched in his right hand matched the green silk robe that only hinted at the delicate curves of his body hidden beneath its smoothness. The snow leopard crumpled the perfumed fabric in frustration. "You are as regular in your moods as each phase in a season, Tir'shan! For every one hundred suns that have risen, I can expect that on the hundredth and first you will be depressed." The priest's lean body quivered with tension.

Tir'shan gently touched his friend's hand. "Forgive me, but on nights such as this, when blossoms perfume the air and softly played music stirs one's passions, I yearn for her and what we might have enjoyed."

The troubled hermaphrodite blurted, "She was too young to participate in the love you desired, and fate took her from you before she could mature. It is true that she always liked you and respected you, but how can you be sure that she would have chosen you for a lover after her fertility transformed her into an adult? In these many seasons since her passing, have you given up finding another who can claim your heart as strongly as Talitha did?"

"No, but I have yet to find her," Tir'shan answered quietly. And I will not, he thought, for Talitha was my other. I know this as well as I know my name, but I can't tell you this, for it would only make you despair. You don't know of the night terrors that have plagued me since we arrived on this world. On the day of Thundera's end, Talitha put her complete trust in Servalla, and entered with her into a messenger ship specially designed by the great Jaga. I begged Servalla to let me accompany them, but she staunchly refused, and ordered me onto Ta'hir's ark ship. She was a member of council, and my elder. Despite my misgivings, I could not disobey. I delayed my departure until the last minute, and was almost left behind with those whom annihilation claimed. At night, I see them in my dreams, all the souls lost in the holocaust that the Mutants unleashed. I see Talitha reaching out for me, and Servalla keeping us apart.

"May V'sri'sar send a lover to you before you work yourself into the silence."

Ryndi's kind words had broken into his thoughts, but had not alleviated his sadness. Something more than his lost love for Talitha weighed heavily on his heart. A kitten in his care had slipped closer to the silence. To ease his friend's distress and to lighten his own melancholy mood, Tir'shan quipped, "I don't work as hard as you believe. And I can assure you that Te'sara and other females have seen that I have taken my share of pleasure."

"The performance of your duty in the Circle results in a joining that only gives you relief, not pleasure!" the priest stated hotly.

He had not anticipated such a display of rage from the usually placid snow leopard, whose duty rested in the arts of love. The insidious fatigue born from the difficult healing work he had done earlier in the day assaulted the mystic's senses. The black spots on Ryndi's long, straight mane started to spin in a fascinating way. The walls of the tavern suddenly became no different then those of a prison, close and dark. The noisy banter of the patrons and the odor of basting meats blended into a heavy mixture that sickened him.

"'Shan, I'm only trying to help you, and you just frustrate the seven--V'sri'sar's happiness! You look awful! I'm getting you out of here."

Although slender like a female, the snow leopard possessed the strength of a male. Dropping his fine scarf to the floor, he quickly came to the mystic's side, and lifted him to his feet. Supporting him clumsily with one hand, the priest used his free hand to reach into the satin purse tied to his belt. He fished several small coins out of the bag, and dropped them haphazardly onto the table. Before Tir'shan could complain that Ryndi had left too much gold for an unfinished meal, the snow leopard had propelled him through the swinging doors of the tavern, and out to the cobblestone street.

The blast of fresh air quickly worked its healing. The fuzzy stone walls came into sharper focus with each deep breath that Tir'shan took. The queasiness in his stomach evaporated. "Thanks. I feel better," he said to his friend.

Ryndi viewed him with suspicion. "I'll let Te'sara be the judge of that." The snow leopard pointed to the hill beyond the walled city where the mystics had made their home. The flicker of torches in the distance pointed the way to the temple of Mrísena. "Come, the night grows old even by our standard of time. I'll escort you back," Ryndi said firmly.

"The night is not that old," the mystic replied. "There are shops still open, and you did want to look for some goods. I'm fine, and I have no desire to spoil your evening any further. Let us make the rounds we have planned."

Tir'shan moved away from the alley that abutted the tavern. His friend blocked his path. Although the snow leopard was a few inches under six feet in height, Ryndi's elegant presence compensated for his less than commanding stature. His lifetime of experience as the Li'am'ra of V'sri'sar had made him an individual not to be taken lightly. "You will return to your temple, priest," he growled in a lilting alto that equally betrayed his northern origins.

Tir'shan bent at the waist to match the level of the priest's intense gaze. "You have forgotten one thing," he murmured coyly, knowing his friend to be trapped by his own weakness. "You promised Si'ta that you would end your spree at her home this evening and appraise her latest handiwork." He straightened in smug satisfaction, convinced that he had won the argument.

"Snr'y't!" Ryndi howled. "I had indeed forgotten my promise." He rubbed his pointed chin. After a few minutes of contemplation, he added, "I have already put off this visit to her once. It would not do to ignore her hospitality a second time, although the reason would be legitimate, and Si'ta possesses a forgiving nature." His perfect mouth curled ever so slightly. "I am curious about her newest doll." He slapped the mystic's torso with the back of his hand. "You are fit enough to keep up with me this night. The snow leopard turned and strode toward the avenue of the jewelry makers. "Onward!" he declared without a backward glance.

"But what about your scarf!" Tir'shan shouted, having suddenly remembered that the priest had left his fine silk lying on the floor of the tavern.

"Worry not!" a disembodied voice shouted from beyond the street corner. The owner will eventually return it to me, and I shall favor him."

Ryndi conducted his raid along several lanes in the merchant district of the city of Lir. It had taken far longer than the mystic had anticipated. Tir'shan scarcely kept in step with the hermaphrodite's frantic pace. At each stop the two priests made, a pleased shopkeeper added another package to the growing pile of boxes which Tir'shan heroically balanced. At the farthest end of the district, they finally crossed the road to the first house situated in the residential area.

The inviting light emanating from the two story stone cottage warmed the fatigue out of Tir'shan's tired arms. Ryndi tapped lightly on the wooden door. The mystic teased, "How can Si'ta have heard such a weak knock? Surely the fine life on this world has softened you, so that your touch has become more delicate than the wind."

"And you consider that a fault?" Ryndi commented dryly.

The brilliance within the cottage spilt onto the dark street, the light from the corner glow spheres having faded. The aroma of rich spices scented the air and the majestic lioness who had appeared in the entrance. A cool breeze lightly ruffled her already tousled red mane. "Do you realize the hour?" she growled, tightening the belt on the yellow robe that covered her loose nightgown. "I had given up on your arrival. Those with sense have gone to bed!"

"There is yet time for that," Ryndi purred as he beckoned to the parcel-ladened mystic to follow him into the pleasant dwelling. "Surely you can accommodate us for a little while."

"I might," she purred, "if you favor me." The lioness passed her claws gently across the smaller priest's mane before allowing him and his companion into the cottage.

"You will not regret your hospitality, fair one," Ryndi acceded, "but I must insist on business before pleasure."

"This from the Li'am'ra of V'sri'sar!" the ignored mystic exclaimed loudly, placing the mountain of boxes on a long wooden table arranged by the fireplace. He turn to his hostess and added with vehemence, "He has been full of surprises today."

"Mystic, I beg you to keep down your resonant voice, or I will set the three kittens who rest above upon you if they should awaken."

"Ah! Now that would indeed be sport worth watching," Ryndi said with a chuckle.

"Were they not asleep, I would beg your permission to play with them," Tir'shan answered softly. "A dwelling with cubs is a sacred place."

Si'ta stiffened, uncomfortable with his reply. She quickly turned to the fireplace, and set a teapot on a metal rack over the embers.

Ryndi caressed the mystic's wrist, and advised, "We create in ways equally important, Tir'shan." He moved to a padded chair near the hearth and settled comfortably on the soft seat. The snow leopard said to the lioness, "The fine brew can wait, for my curiosity cannot. Please show us your latest creation."

His cheery appeal dissolved her uneasiness. "I'll be back in a moment," she said. Walking toward the back of the chamber, Si'ta disappeared through the door that led to her workroom.

After she vanished, Ryndi objected, "'Shan, you have no sensitivity for the feelings of our hostess."

The mystic sat on the edge of a bench adjacent to the table. He nodded his head in agreement. Brushing a straying white lock away from his forehead, he admitted "I've no legitimate excuse for my behavior." Shrugging his broad shoulders, he added in a somber tone that carried well the sound of his pain, "I have been working with cubs all day. You know how much I wish for one of my own blood, and how impossible that is."

"Something more is bothering you than your infertility. Your eyes cannot hide what you feel. The more you suffer, the more they deepen in blue."

Tir'shan gave his knowing friend a weak smile. "In this light, how can you tell their exact color."

"You are not going to tell me, are you," the snow leopard retorted.

Considering his friend's accusation, he watched the firelight play tricks with the black rosettes on Ryndi's shapely pale grey neck. I will weep once more if I tell you of the dear little one whose lungs can no longer fight the heavy secretions that clog them. How can I find the words to describe the bravery of this cub, who has accepted, without bitterness, the short span that she was given by the Goddess, who weaves the length of each individual's days into the fabric comprising life. He marked the resolution in his companion's frown. You'll just outwait me, won't you, and plan your next assault to win, he decided. I suppose, however, that if anyone can be sympathetic without judgement, it is you.

The white tiger spoke quickly and succinctly before he had the opportunity to change his mind. "There is a tigress cub that the healing power of my Circle can no longer help. She has been placed in my care until the silence comes for her."

"You poor bastard!" Ryndi exclaimed. "If there is anything that I can do--"

"Pray for me, not her," Tir'shan replied. "Young Mei is far wiser than her seasons."

"And what of her parents?"

"Strong are those who coax life from the soil, but these sturdy farmers cannot hide their sorrow from a mystic. It is terrible to lose a cub to the silence, but the parents have also lost their future. Given the devastating role that hereditary has played in this illness, Fav'i and Muri'a have decided to forego any further conceptions."

"But what of the option of bringing forth a new life with other partners who carry not the trait for this dread disease?"

The lioness standing in the shadows at the back of the room answered the snow leopard. "This illness is inherited in a recessive fashion, so it can be passed by either unaffected parent without his or her knowledge. They distrust technology, and would not allow a physician to genetically test a fetus carried by Muri'a. Abortion is not an option to them. One can thus assume that it is their wish that no cub be conceived with a hidden taint."

"Quite so," Tir'shan replied with mild surprise. "How did a dollmaker acquire an understanding of genetics? You appear to know as much about this matter as I have told Ryndi."

"The cub's sickness is well known among those who frequent my shop." The lioness came forward and set her newest doll on the table. "Besides, Te'sara spoke to me after the parents had taken the little one to the Halls of Healing. She said that although the farmers initially did not tell anyone of their plans, you deduced immediately that their farewell to Mei was to be their last."

A knot of tension that formed in the mystic's gut made him grimace. How many time must I relive that sad parting, and accept the simple truth that I can do nothing to save this little tigress!

"Si'ta, I think this giant can use a sip of wine to ease his ache," Ryndi said.

"Gods, no!" the mystic complained with such force as to insinuate that the priest had suggested poison.

The lioness raised a thin eyebrow in contempt. Trying to smooth the unintentional insult, Ryndi said, "My apologies, Flamemane. I have forgotten that Tir'shan has never tolerated well the effects of alcohol."

The dollmaker asked the mystic, "Is there anything else I can get for you?"

Tir'shan stayed sullenly silent. The lioness fiddled with the clothing on her doll. Ryndi stared at fire. The whistle of the tea kettle finally broke the stalemate between them all. Tir'shan said finally, "I'll take some of that tea you promised."

Si'ta retrieved three cups that rested on a shelf by the hearth. Cloth in hand, Ryndi pulled the pot off the rack, and set it on a flat tile resting upon the table.

As the lioness scooped tea from a metal canister into the cups, the mystic and the Li'am'ra appraised her handiwork. "The clothing and the features that you have given this warrior indicate that an age far earlier than the time of King Dera has inspired you," the mystic said politely.

Ryndi quickly added his observations with enthusiasm. "He's beautiful! How did you sculpt such a fierce expression on his cloth face? I've never seen a doll that portrayed a Sinda'am'ral'im with such assurance. That sky blue fabric you used for his robe! You simply must tell me which one of our fine weavers made it. And I like the way his tail is just barely visible below the hem. Although many would argue with me, I always imagined that the tail would be covered. It would have less movement under the fabric, but the smooth lines presented by the elaborate dress of the time would better fit the aesthetics of that age. Don't you agree 'Shan?"

"How can he!" the lioness snapped. "You talk enough for two." The mystic laughed at the dollmaker's unexpected rejoinder. Si'ta gently tugged on the giant's long braid, and said, "That's one sound I never tire of hearing. You laughter is a wonderful thunder."

"And at my expense!" the deflated snow leopard said through pouting lips. The lioness playfully tapped the priest's wrist. Ryndi wrinkled his nose in distaste. "I'm not to be toyed with!"

"But I thought you wanted me to connect your dots," the lioness demurred.

"You'll have to do better for a suitable apology. You have hurt my feelings dreadfully."

The stately lioness tilted his chin, and ran her tongue over his lips.

"Better," he observed softly.

"There's no satisfying you," the dollmaker grumbled.

"That is why he is the Li'am'ra," Tir'shan declared.

"Indeed!"

The mystic ignored the snow leopard's boast. He drained his cup, then set it down on the table. Not wishing to intrude further on the couple's intimacy, he said, "I shall leave you two to your explorations."

"Not before I've completed my promise to Te'sara!" Si'ta exclaimed.

"Promise?" The mystic set his hands on his hips, and demanded, "What has that meddler requested now?"

"You are to pick out a doll for Mei, that's all," Ryndi remarked. Realizing his error, the snow leopard swiftly covered his mouth.

"You are also involved in this plot! And here I thought that I had outsmarted you."

"Now 'Shan, don't ruin your rugged good looks with that frown. Regarding this matter, I happen to be in complete agreement with the estimable leader of the Council of Mystics. Giving joy to Mei will surely lighten your burden." Pointing to the lioness's work, he added, "What cub wouldn't be happy to possess a doll as magnificent as this."

"The Li'am'ra displays his ignorance concerning the play habits of the young," Si'ta argued. "This doll is too fragile, and would not withstand the rough treatment a cub gives a toy." The dollmaker grabbed Tir'shan's arm. "Come with me to the storage chamber," she said, pulling him toward the back of the cottage. "There is a box of suitable dolls that you can sift through." Because he could find no fault with what his elder had required of the dollmaker, the mystic ceded to her wish, and did not struggle.

"I should also like a look," Ryndi added, following the pair.

The three Thunderans entered the workroom. The diffuse light of a suspended glow sphere illuminated the roomy chamber cluttered with fabrics, threads and dolls in varying stages of completion. Si'ta and Tir'shan pushed aside several boxes that blocked another door. "Ryn, please get me a sphere. There's one on that small table," the dollmaker asked.

The Li'am'ra quickly scanned the room, and found the orb. "What's the word?" he asked.

"Just whistle."

"My dear you have no imagination when it comes to magic commands." The snow leopard puckered his lips, and blew a cheerful note. A swirl of colored light appeared in the glass ball. "Very pretty. Does this one float?"

"Yes."

The snow leopard released the activated ball which drifted lazily toward the floor. It stopped inches above an oval rug and hovered. "I think that you need to have his one re-energized by one of our sorcerers," the spotted priest observed with amusement. He kicked the sphere gingerly toward the door.

Tir'shan retrieved the light, and held it above Si'ta's head. "Now you can find what you seek, fair one."

There was little maneuvering room in the cramped storage chamber. The lioness moved several bolts of cloth to reveal a wooden crate. Tir'shan passed the glow sphere to her. He carried the container into the larger room.

"Set it down where you can find a clear spot."

"That will be a challenge. How can you work in this disarray?" Ryndi criticized.

"She has three kittens, Ryn. She's used to confusion," Tir'shan replied as he placed the crate on a bench.

Si'ta lifted the hinged lid. A lion doll resting on a sheet of coarse white paper came into view. "Here is the first," she said. "There are eleven more in the box. This one is an excellent example of western work. Note the stitching on his tunic. Those threads were very difficult to match."

"I can tell that this is not your work," Tir'shan stated as he examined the doll's multi-layered clothing. "He is finely made, especially the decorative embroidery on the clothing, but overall he does not match the level of your craft. How did you come upon him?"

The lioness answered, "He came to me, as did all the dolls in this box, while we were still on Thundera. Upon a request from a client, I had to repair the stitching on the trousers."

"What of his owner?" Ryndi asked cautiously.

"These dolls are orphans," Si'ta replied solemnly. "The cubs who played with these toys died on the day of Thundera's destruction. I discovered this fact soon after our arrival on this world. Afterwards, I tried to track down the relatives of the original owners among our surviving population, but met with no success." She reached for Tir'shan's hand, and casually stroked his palm. "Until now, I didn't know what to do with these dolls. I couldn't bear to open the box, for it brought back to me the horrors of that day. Te'sara suggested that I give the dolls to the sick. She told me of your plight, and I promised that I would let you chose one for Mei."

Tir'shan kissed her tawny hand. "It was very brave of you to heal the wounds of the past in this way. I am honored."

Ryndi brushed a tear from his eye. "You have your work to do 'Shan. I'll will warm myself by the fire." The Li'am'ra swiftly vacated the chamber.

"Please stay!" Si'ta called after him.

"Let him go, Flamemane. Any mention of that day reminds him that he was the only priest of his religion to have survived Thundera's destruction."

"We all lost people we cared about."

"That is true, but he has been the chosen head of his religion from the time he reached his second birthday. He is as a father who has lost all of his cubs to the silence. What faith it has taken for him not to give into despair, and instead, to rebuild with vigor the worship of V'sri'sar."

The lioness remarked, "In determining who would live and who would die, V'sri'sar must have diced badly on that final day."

"Perhaps, but in Ryndi he has chosen a survivor." Changing the topic, he said, "Let us explore this box. I am about to explode with curiosity. Show the other dolls to me."

Tir'shan marveled at the figures that emerged from the crate. Each one declared the pride of the race that it represented. The haughty expression on the face of the king's messenger doll clearly demonstrated the pride the cheetahs took in their ability to outrun the wind. The panther dancer from the temple of Mintálí had a delicacy of form that surely matched the individual who had modeled for the doll.

"That's it," Si'ta declared, setting the twelfth doll, an eastern weaver of the small cat clan, next to the others. She fingered the miniature earring it wore through its nose. The figure's costume of loud colors would have made any person wonder who had the awful taste to have chosen such conflicting fabrics. Noting the mystic's surprise, the lioness laughed, and said, "The female who had brought her in for repair dressed herself and her cub as boldly as her doll. She also smoked a long thin pipe that appeared to have life of its own, so wildly did she gesture with it."

Tir'shan declared, "Even though some are odder than others, they are all wonderful. I must think for a few minutes before I can choose."

"I'll get us some fresh tea, and also check on Ryndi."

"Excellent," the mystic replied as the lioness headed back into the main living area of the cottage. He stared at the dolls lined up in a row on the work table. Unable to decide on which to select for his littlest patient, Tir'shan tugged nervously on his braid. "You are all wonderful," he said to the figures, "but not one of you has the quality I am seeking. You are all too fine. Your soft faces have not been worn away with the love of a cub. Your garments have not thinned from constant handling. I'm sorry, but none of you will do."

The mystic tore a fresh sheet of paper from a roll set on the table. Best start repacking, he thought. How will I tell Si'ta that I have rejected her collection without hurting her feelings. As he leaned over the crate to replace the lining on the bottom of the box, he spied a lump. "What's this? Has she miscounted?" he said, lifting the paper.

"And who are you," the mystic asked, taking another figure from the box. He ran his long fingers over the sturdy linen that formed the body of the red tiger doll dressed in a white tunic. "A southerner to be sure, but your clothing tells me not your class. You could be any male tiger of that region." He carefully picked apart a knot in the ragged fiber mane. "It must not have been fun for you to have associated with a cub who liked to drag you by your hair. Whoever chose the materials for your making knew that you would be handled roughly." He examined the stitching. "Nothing fancy here, but the work is even and sure. It would have taken a very diligent cub to have broken any of these strong fastenings." He held the figure at arms length. The flat embroidered face was quite worn. The frayed eyebrows gave the doll a melancholy appearance, and yet the plain features exuded the wisdom bestowed on one who had seen life in its myriad aspects. The faded orange color of its body and its eyes bespoke numerous hours spent in the sunlight. The thinness of the removable tunic suggested many washings. Observing a slight discoloration on the doll's big feet, the mystic tickled its soles. He said with amusement, "On what adventure did you lose your leather sandals?" A bittersweet feeling overcame him. "Your cub would have given me the answer with the happy embellishment of the very young." He traced a dark stripe on the doll's mane from its orange crown to the white ends. "I feel his ghost upon you, my little friend. His love has left its mark. It must hurt you to carry the memories. Remember sitting under a stately terztar tree, its purple leaves protecting you on a hot summer day, and enduring the silly games your cub devised. At night, your soft body absorbed his fear of the dark as he clutched you to his chest. With you in his arms, he knew he was safe from the night demons."

"Are you talking to yourself?" Ryndi asked in disbelief, escorting the dollmaker back into the work room.

"Yes," Tir'shan answered sheepishly, "I suppose I am."

The lioness sat next to the mystic. Seeing that his hands were occupied, she placed his teacup on the table. "Where did you find him?" Si'ta remarked with surprise, eyeing the tiger doll.

"He was in the box."

"Impossible. There were only twelve in that crate. I packed it myself. It was one of the few things that I brought with me from Thundera."

"Well, Si'ta, if you didn't place him there, who did?" Ryndi remarked innocently.

"I'm telling you, I have never seen this doll before," the lioness insisted.

The hairs on the back of Tir'shan's neck stiffened; a queer feeling that he could not explain washed over him. He regarded the tiger doll with new awareness. You wanted a companion, didn't you, my friend. That is why you have been sent. For an instant, the doll's face lost its sorrowful expression. That the mystic had understood its mission had pleased it. Shaken, Tir'shan placed the doll on the table. He settled his quaking hands on his lap.

"You look like you have seen a ghost," the lioness commented.

Ryndi came to his side, and placed his hand on his shoulder. "V'sri'sar! You are shaking like a frightened cub."

Regaining his composure, the mystic swept aside his friends' concerns. "The day has been too long, and I have worked too hard. My mind plays tricks on me." He could tell from the suspicion in their eyes that they had difficulty accepting his explanation, but in respect of his privacy, they prodded no further.

"Well, I still don't know the origin of this doll. I didn't make it, and I didn't take it in for repair, although its poor state certainly warrants it."

Fearful of her rejection in light of her honesty, Tir'shan pleaded, "Please give him to me. He is the perfect companion for Mei."

"But what of the original owner? Surely, I have a responsibility to see if anyone claims him."

Ryndi replied calmly, "Si'ta, considering the time that has passed since our arrival on this world, don't you think that the owner would have appeared by now? Give him to Tir'shan. In this instance, I feel the gods are at work, for the doll has materialized where, by your own account, it should have not."

The lioness tapped the table with her claws, her apprehension apparent by her nervous motion. I can't make her go against her heart, no matter my feelings, Tir'shan decided. I must not force her hand. "Si'ta, forgive my outburst. I will abide by your judgement, for I do not wish to compromise you."

"Fear not, Tir'shan," the dollmaker replied. "You shall have your toy. Strange as I think it is, Ryndi has probably spoken the truth. I will trust to the gods in this matter. If a problem arises at a later time, they can help to solve it." She pointed to the white tiger and the snow leopard in turn. "I have the counsel of two respected priests. Who would give better advice than you?" She picked up the doll and passed it to the mystic. "Tell Te'sara I have kept my promise."

Smiling broadly, Tir'shan accepted the doll. Happiness eased a little of the sadness that had darkened his heart. "You will make Mei's brief days bearable. Flamemane, I thank you."

Pointing to his teacup, she said, "Better drink before it gets too cold. As for me, I am going to bed. You can see yourself out." She rose and stretched languidly. "Coming Ryn?"

"A wonderful end to the evening." The Li'am'ra extended his arm toward the lioness. Si'ta pulled him close. "You are on your own, 'Shan. Douse the lights on your way out, won't you," he said as he passed from the chamber with the dollmaker. The murmur of their conversation drifted to the upper level of the cottage and soon quieted behind a closing door.

Were I not so tired, I would follow Ryndi's example, and ask Te'sara to my bed, Tir'shan concluded, but I'm afraid all I plan to do once I lie down is to sleep. Picking up the teacup, he drained its contents and scowled. "Too cold," he grumbled, setting it back on the table.

Rising, he said to the doll, "Come, my friend, let us extinguish the lights, then be on our way. For me, tomorrow will be another day like all the others--difficult and tiring; for you, the truest of loves awaits. Rejoice, little one, for the gods have sent you home."