The hand was adorned with a single ring. Hanse recognized it. He had seen ityesterday, in the sky-aspiring temple of Ilshipri.

"Don't be fearful, Hanse of the Shadows, Chosen of Ilsig, Son of Shadows." Itwas a very nice voice, and unconditionally female.

"Of one who has no face on her? Oh, of course not!"

Her laughter was a stream of bright quicksilver in sunshine. "Choose a facethen," she bade him, and proceeded to give him a choice.

The air shimmered above her shoulders and a head formed, and a face. It was notcomforting. Hanse was looking at Lirain. Lirain, who had conspired with anotheragainst Kadakithis, and sought to use Hanse (and succeeded), and who was deadfor her crime, and her pretty face gone with her. It disappeared now, to becomethe piquant features of the royal concubine who had been unlucky enough to bepresent the night he stole the Savankh from the Prince-Governor's ownbedchamber. When last Hanse had seen this one she was bound as he'd left her. Hecould not even remember her na-oh. Taya. No matter. She was becoming someoneelse.

"Uh!"

That gasp was elicited by Taya's vanishing to be replaced by ... Moonflower!Aye, Moonflower, earrings, chins and all!

"No thank you," Hanse was able to say, and felt better for it.

Far more shocking was the next visage, one he recognized after a few moments ofgaping. The woman he had seen murdered for her terror rod out by Fanner'sMarket, less than two months ago! Before he could protest, she had flickeredaway after the others, and Hanse swallowed. Now he gazed close upon a face heknew and had always wished could be closer. She was the smiling and trulybeautiful daughter of Venerable Shafralain. Esaria her name, a girl of seventeenor eighteen-the Lady Esaria! A beauty he had watched and about whom he hadentertained phantasies rather more than once or thrice.

"You know," Hanse blurted, with more breath than voice. "You bring out thesefaces from my own memory!"

Already Esaria was becoming Mignureal, sweet-faced Mignureal, who gazed serenelyat him-and spoke.

"You are invited to dinner tomorrow night. You will be in no danger. Wear thisclothing. The place is known to you. It is long unpeopled, and its water is asilver pool. The silver is your own, Son of the Shadow, Chosen of Ilsig."

And of course now he knew who his greeter was. It was not possible, but thennone of it was.

"Whom shall I be to your eyes tonight, Son of Shadow?"

Hanse replied with surely a great stroke of genius, and made the mostbrilliantly diplomatic utterance of his life.

"The thrice-beauteous face of the Lady Eshi from the statue in the temple ofEshi Radiant," he said-

And She was, smiling delightedly, ever so pleased. She embraced him with warmthand Hanse nearly collapsed.

Her hand clasping his with warmth, she led him into that ruined and murkilyshadowed once-luxury manse ... and it was again! Everywhere candles spranginto lambence, with constant flashes and continuing unnatural brightness.Bright, bright light, revealing perfect inlaid floors that were works of art andwalls all alive and acolor with mosaic-work. Along a high-soaring hall he wasled, and into a palatial dining hall, and here too all came alight with thebrightness of day.

At the far-far!-end of a genuinely long table of fine inlaid wood sat ... ashadow. And a man ...

Hanse tore loose his hand from the warm grasp of a god and backed a pace with ahissing whisper of soft-soled buskins.

"Cudget!" he all but shouted. "Oh no, no, Cudget-they killed you, Cudget!" Andhis voice broke. _

The voice that replied was not Cudget's, but was male, and warmth itself.Somehow it made Hanse feel good; all warm.

"It is in the nature of gods to be self-directed, what you call selfish.Sometimes we forget your mortal attachments, unbroken by death. I thought youwould like the face of your mentor and late best friend and foster father, mybeloved friend and servant Hanse. My own visage is only Light; Lambence;Candence. For I have not a thousand eyes you know, not really."

"You... cannot be ..."

"Hanse-take the crossed brown pot with you," Cudget said in Mignureal's voice,and only she and Hanse knew that she had said those words to him one night ofevil. (Or did she?) And then Cudget was speaking on, in another voice that Hansedid not at first recognize. Then he did-it was his own! He remembered the words,from the night he had gone to Kurd's and nearly died-no! He had not utteredthose words! He had but thought them, and only he could know them: "0 Ils, godof my people and father of Shaipo my patron? It is true that Tempus Thaiesserves Vashanka Tenslayer. But help us, help us both, lord Ils, and I swearto do all I can to destroy Vashanka Sister-wrfer or drive him hence, if onlyYou will show me the way!"

On hearing those words issue in his voice from the Being at the far end of thelong table, Hanse could only stare.

"Only two could know that prayer of yours, Hanse. Only two not just in all theworld, but in all the universe. You are one; the other is He who hears all wordsdirected to him, whether they are uttered by tongue or mind only."

Pale, Hanse could only gasp forth shaky words: "Lord... God."

"Yes," the warm voice spoke from that lam-bence.

Hanse had elected not to genuflect on meeting a prince of Ranke. Now, uponmeeting that god Who was god of gods, he was far too shaken to think of fallingto his knees.

Lord Ils proved that he was no mere king or emperor or religious leader, toinsist upon such displays. Neither egoism nor egotism marked gods. They had noneed of either. They were gods. Cudget's face vanished and again Hanse wasforced to squint. Someone still sat at table's end in that big dining hall, butthere was no face at all now. There was only light.

Eyes almost closed, Hanse was forced to look away from it-and discovered thatnow he looked upon a goddess, all in deep warm pink bordered with silver andsashed with scarlet. With jewels flashing in the deep indigo silk of her hair;or perhaps they were stars.

The voice of warmth spoke.

"Yes," it said again. "Cheated of strength in my own lands, but not drained,Hanse Son of Shadow. The intensity of belief of one who had sneered at gods, andhis loyalty that is not automatic but learned, volunteered-it is you I speak of,Hanse-these aided Me. For gods and mortals are mutually dependent, Hanse.

"My cousin Savankala's son Vashanka has waxed here by the power of belief of onevariously called the Riddler, and Thales, and Tem-pus, as well as the Engineer,and Sea-born. We need not concern you with who he really is. Vashanka wished hisfreedom one night; wished it enough to bargain with Me. It required only theefforts of Shalpa my son to cloud the skies that night. Because the climate ofyour land is what it is, both Vashanka's power and Mine were required to sendrain that night, when you needed water to survive the plant-that-kills.Naturally I made bargain with Vashanka ere I helped him-because I knew Vashankawould bargain to help you save Tempus!

"Having agreed, Vashanka himself made a concession: Vashanka himself struck hisname from the palace of My people. Nor will Vashanka use such power displayshere again. It were not wise of Me to raise my murdered temple, which Vashankastruck down; that is the business of you humans. Such edifices please youhumans; gods have no need of such aggrandizement for there is no aggrandizementbeyond godhead."

Hanse's brain was awhirl and he wished he were sitting down. He said, "And...and Mig-nureal?"