"Only a foolish mortal would fail to tremble before you, Lord Stormbringer."

A foolish mortal who seeks to elude me? I do not have time to waste searchingfor foolish mortals.

Here, in the god's universe or perhaps within the god, there was no place forhidden thoughts or verbal gymnastics. There was only nothingness and the raw,awesome power of Stormbringer himself.

"I have been such a foolish mortal," Torchholder acknowledged.

You trouble yourself with the opinions of those not sworn to me or the children.You know that all Stormgods are but shadows of me-as Vashanka is a shadow I haveabandoned, the llsig god a shadow I have forgotten, and the one they call"Father Enlil" a shadow which shall not fall across Sanctuary.

"I did not know. Lord Stormbringer."

Then know now! The universe throbbed with Stormbringer's pique. I am Sanctuary'sgod. Until the children claim their birthright I am their, and Sanctuary's,guardian. Fear only me!

Of course they fear you. A second presence, feminine but no less awesome,wove its way through and around the presence that was Stormbringer.Mortals fear everything. They fear the woman's god more than they fear theman's god, and they fear a woman without a god most of all. You must tellthem where to find the witch-woman who killed my snakes.

The deities twisted around each other but did not mix or merge. Molin knew hewas in the presence of what was already being called the Barren Marriage. Yetthere was something like mortal affection, as well as immortal lust, betweenthese two. He felt the part that was Stormbringer contract, and an uprightfigure with the head of a lion, the wings of an eagle, and the lower parts of abull manifested itself out of the red mist.

"I cannot tell you where she is," the apparition said in a voice that was bothmale and female. "There are things forbidden even to me. Demonkind is brotherand sister to you mortals, but no kin to gods. The S'danzo have the greater partof the truth; the Nisi witches have the rest.

"Roxane promised the souls of the children-or her own if she failed. She is notwhere you or I can find her-and she is not fallen among the demons. What Icannot find, what the Archdemon cannot find, must lie in Meridian or beyond."

Molin discovered that he, like Stormbringer, had become corporeal and, so far ashe could tell, very much the man he had always been. Tracing his fingers alongthe familiar, imperfect embroidery of his sleeves, he considered what he knew ofthe topology of nonmortal spheres and Meridian, the realm of dreams whereASkelon held sway. He thought about ASkelon as well and reflected that if therewere one entity-ASkelon hardly qualified as a man-who could both complicate andresolve their problems, the Dream Lord was that entity.

He made the mistake, however, of thinking that because he felt like himself, hewas himself and slipped into rapid considerations as to which of the playerswould be best for the part.

"That is not for you to decide," the lion reminded Molin, baring its glisteningteeth. "ASkelon has already made his choice."

"Tempus will not go."

"Give him this, then." Stormbringer laid a linen scarf across Molin'sunwillingly outstretched hands.

The netherworld that was the gods' universe fractured. Molin held the scarf tohis face for protection as the lion-head apparition became hard, dark pelletsthat beat him into a dizzying backward spiral. The scream he had left frozen inhis throat tore loose and engulfed him.

"It's over now; relax."

A strong, long-fingered hand was wrapped around his wrist, pulling his handsaway from his face. The hard pellets were wind-driven raindrops. His hands,Molin realized as he unclenched them, were empty. He was on his back-had fallenfrom his horse.

"You're back with us ordinary folk," the woman told him as she yanked on hiscloak and twisted his torso until his shoulders were propped on a relatively drypile of straw. "Are you all right? Your tongue? Your lips?"

He pushed himself up on his elbows. There wasn't a muscle, bone, or nerve thatdidn't ache-as it always did after Stormbringer. But it was, he told her whilestill trying to understand where he was and what had happened, nothing worsethan that.

"They say that my... Tempus would bite through his lip, or break a bone. I neversaw it. He wouldn't notice it, really. You're not him, though."

"Kama?" Molin guessed.

He was in some crude shelter-a lean-to the shepherds used, by the smell of it.The worst of the weather was deflected, anyway. She'd hung a lantern from thecenter-pole but it didn't provide much light and the priest had only seenTempus's daughter a few times, mostly when she was considerably younger.

"I saw you stiffen up like that. I guessed what would happen. It wasn'tVashanka, was it?"

"No."

She squatted down beside him; the lantern lifted her profile from thesurrounding darkness. She wore a youth's leather tunic, laced tight andrevealing nothing. Her hair was twisted into a knot at the crown of her head andwas clinging to her face in damp tendrils where it had come loose. She shudderedand went looking for her own cloak which, when she found it, was covered withmud and useless from the rain.

"Did the others go on?" Molin asked.

Kama nodded. "They'll have reached the palace by now. Strat knows I'm with you.He won't say anything."

Molin looked into the lantern. He should, by right, stagger to his feet and hiehimself back to the palace. His life was full of gods, magic, and the intriguethat went with them. There was no room for love, or lust-especially not withKama.

"You needn't have stayed with me," he said softly, shifting the focus of hisanalysis and persuasion away from politics.

"I was curious. All winter I've been hearing about the Torch. Almost everythingthat worked had your fingerprints on it. Nobody seems to like you very much,Molin Torchholder, but they all seem to respect you. I wanted to see formyself."

"So you saw me falling off my horse and foaming at the mouth?"

.She gave him a quick half-smile. "Will the Third actually share that brandy andmeat?"

"I don't have the Empire or the priesthood behind me anymore," Molin admitted."I can't coerce a man's loyalty and I can't inspire it either-I know my limits.I bribed the cooks myself long before I left the palace." A stream of waterbroke through the branch-and-straw roof, hitting him full in the face. "No one,if he's done work for Sanctuary, should be out on a night like this without somereward. If the Third went to the barracks, they got their share."

"What about you?"

"Or you?"

Kama shrugged and picked at the loose threads of a bandage tied around her rightpalm. "I won't find what I want at the barracks."

"You won't find it with the Third-"

Kama turned to stare darkly at him.

Stormbringer, the witches, the children: everything that was important in thelarger scheme of things fell from Molin's thoughts as he sat up, closing hishands over hers. "-You won't find it with any of his people."

It was a thought that had, apparently, already occurred to her, for she unwoundinto the straw beside him without a heartbeat's hesitation.

They returned to the palace after the sky had turned a soft, moist gray butbefore, they hoped, any of those whom Molin had to see were awake. There wasnothing to set them apart from any other weary, soaked travelers coming toshelter within the palace walls. Molin did not help her from the saddle or seeto the stabling of her horse. True, he found himself gripped by an emotionuncomfortably close to sudden love, but not even that was enough to make him afool. He would have said nothing if she had wheeled her horse around and headedback toward the Maze; he said the same when she followed him up the gatehousestairs.