'Bercy, child, this is only a fancy. It will pass.'

'No,' she wept. 'I love you, I want only you!'

And then, unmistakably, along the magician's nerves, Lythande felt that littleripple, that warning thrill of tension which said: spell-casting is in use. Notagainst Lythande. That could have been countered. But somewhere within the room.

Here, in the Aphrodisia House? Myrtis, Lythande knew, could be trusted withlife, reputation, fortune, the magical power of the Blue Star itself; she hadbeen tested before this. Had she altered enough to turn betrayer, it would havebeen apparent in her aura when Lythande came near.

That left only the girl, who was clinging and whimpering, 'I will die if you donot love me! I will die! Tell me it is not true, Lythande, that you are unableto love! Tell me it is an evil lie that magicians are emasculated, incapable ofloving woman ...'

'That is certainly an evil lie,' Lythande agreed gravely. 'I give you my solemnassurance that I have never been emasculated.' But Lythande's nerves tingled asthe words were spoken. A magician might lie, and most of them did. Lythandewould lie as readily as any other, in a good cause. But the law of the Blue Starwas this: when questioned directly on a matter bearing directly on the Secret,the adept might not tell a direct lie. And Bercy, unknowing, was only onequestion away from the fatal one hiding the Secret.

With a mighty effort, Lythande's magic wrenched at the very fabric of Timeitself; the girl stood motionless, aware of no lapse, as Lythande stepped awayfar enough to read her aura. And yes, there within the traces of that vibratingfield was the shadow of the blue star. Rabben's: overpowering her will.

Rabben. Rabben the Half-handed, who had set his will "on the girl, who hadstaged and contrived the whole thing, including the encounter where the girl hadneeded rescue; put the girl under a spell to attract and bespell Lythande.

The law of the Blue Star forbade one adept of the Star to kill another; for allwould be needed to fight side by side, on the last day, against Chaos. Yet ifone adept could prise forth the secret of another's power ... then the powerlessone was not needed against Chaos and could be killed.

What could be done now? Kill the girl? Rabben would take that, too, as ananswer; Bercy had been so bespelled as to be irresistible to any man; ifLythande sent her away untouched, Rabben would know that Lythande's secret layin that area and would never rest in his attempts to uncover it. For if Lythandewas untouched by this sex-spell to make Bercy irresistible, then Lythande was aeunuch, or a homosexual, or ... sweating, Lythande dared not even think beyondthat. The Secret was safe only if never questioned. It would not be read in theaura; but one simple question, and all was ended.

I should kill her, Lythande thought. For now I am fighting, not for my magicalone, but for my secret and for my life. For surely, with my power gone, Rabbenwould lose no time in making an end of me, in revenge for the loss of half ahand.

The girl was still motionless, entranced. How easily she could be killed! ThenLythande recalled an old fairy-tale, which might be used to save the Secret ofthe Star.

The light flickered as Time returned to the chamber. Bercy was still clingingand weeping, unaware of the lapse; Lythande had resolved what to do. and thegirl felt Lythande's arms enfolding her, and the magician's kiss on herwelcoming mouth.

'You must love me or I shall die!' Bercy wept.

Lythande said, 'You shall be mine.' The soft neutral voice was very gentle. 'Buteven a magician is vulnerable in love, and I must protect myself. A place shallbe made ready for us without light or sound save for what I provide with mymagic; and you must swear that you will not seek to see or to touch me except bythat magical light. Will you swear it by the All-Mother, Bercy? For if you swearthis, I shall love you as no woman has ever been loved before.'

Trembling, she whispered, 'I swear.' And Lythande's heart went out in pity, forRabben had used her ruthlessly; so that she burned alive with her unslaked andbewitched love for the magician, that she was all caught up in her passion forLythande. Painfully, Lythande thought; if she had only loved me. without thespell; then I could have loved ... ,.

Would that I could trust her with my secrete But she is only Rabben's tool; herlove for me is his doing, and none of her own will... and not real... And soeverything which would pass between them now must be only a drama staged forRabben.

'I shall make all ready for you with my magic.'

Lythande went and confided to Myrtis what was needed; the woman began to laugh,but a single glance at Lythande's bleak face stopped her cold. She had knownLythande since long before the blue star was set between those eyes; and shekept the Secret for love of Lythande. It wrung her heart to see one she loved inthe grip of such suffering. So she said, 'All will be prepared. Shall I give hera drug in her wine to weaken her will, that you may the more readily throw aglamour upon her?'

Lythande's voice held a terrible bitterness. 'Rabben has done that already forus, when he put a spell upon her to love me.'

'You would have it otherwise?' Myrtis asked, hesitating.

'All the gods of Sanctuary - they laugh at me! All-Mother, help me! But I wouldhave it otherwise; I could love her, if she were not Rabben's tool.'

When all was prepared, Lythande entered the darkened room. There was no lightbut the light of the Blue Star. The girl lay on a bed, stretching up her arms tothe magician with exalted abandon.

'Come to me, come to me, my love!'

'Soon,' said Lythande, sitting beside her, stroking her hair with a tendernesseven Myrtis would never have guessed. 'I will sing to you a love-song of mypeople, far away.'

She writhed in erotic ecstasy. 'All you do is good to me, my love, my magician!'

Lythande felt the blankness of utter despair. She was beautiful, and she was inlove. She lay in a bed spread for the two of them, and they were separated bythe breadth of the world. The magician could not endure it.

Lythande sang, in that rich and beautiful voice; a voice lovelier than anyspell;

'Half the night is spent; and the crown of moonlight Fades, and now the crown of the stars is paling; Yields the sky reluctant to coming morning; Still I lie lonely.'

Lythande could see tears on Bercy's cheeks.

'I will love you as no woman has ever been loved.'

Between the girl on the bed, and the motionless form of the magician, as themagician's robe fell heavily to the floor, a wraith-form grew, the very wraithand fetch, at first, of Lythande. tall and lean, with blazing eyes and a starbetween its brows and a body white and unscarred; the form of the magician, butthis one triumphant in virility, advancing on the motionless woman, waiting. Hermind fluttered away in arousal, was caught, captured, be-spelled. Lythande lether see the image for a moment; she could not see the true Lythande behind;then, as her eyes closed in ecstatic awareness of the touch, Lythande smoothedlight fingers over her closed eyes.

'See - what I bid you to see!

'Hear - what I bid you hear!

'Feel - only what I bid you feel, Bercy!'

And now she was wholly under the spell of the wraith. Unmoving, stony-eyed,Lythande watched as her lips closed on emptiness and she kissed invisible lips;and moment by moment Lythande knew what touched her, what caressed her. Rapt andravished by illusion that brought her again and again to the heights of ecstasy,till she cried out in abandonment. Only to Lythande that cry was bitter; for shecried out not to Lythande but to the man-wraith who possessed her.