Her name was Mignureal and she was Moonflower's daughter and she had seen him asno one should see any man, doubly one so cocky and full of needs as Shadowspawn: she had seen him gibbering in sorcery-induced fear one night. She hadtaken him home with her and tended him with her nervous mother staying close,having seen Mignue's soft eyes admiring Hanse. On another occasion he had beenabout to set forth on a dreadful mission she did riot even know about when alook of strange intensity came over her face. "Oh Hanse-Hanse, take the crossedbrown pot with you."

With an eerie feeling, he did that. It was the night on which his mission was toget a pitifully maimed Tempus out of the dripping hands of one Kurd, a man whoseoccupation bore that which was surely the ugliest word in any language:vivisectionist. Cutter-up of the living-and not as physician, either. As itturned out, the brown pot's contents saved his life that night, and he knew thatMignureal the S'danzo had some of her mother's power of Seeing. And then.. .andthen it had been Mignureal's form the goddess Eshi had taken, to fetch him tothat final dreadful confrontation with Vashanka.

And Eshi seems to love me-at least wants me, he mused, wending his full-bellied,red-cloaked way homeward. Does Mignureal?

And after a few steps more: How old is she, anyhow?

Ah Gods ofllsig-what has that to do with anything? I don't even know how old Iam!

Yet he knew that he knew, as he walked on all wrapped in his thoughts and newcloak, who and what he was: the son of some woman of Downwind and... Shalpa. Agod. Demi-mortal, Vashanka had called him. That was a phrase that impliedanother half: demigod. Hanse was a demigod.

How in Ten Hells can I live with that?

How in Eleven Hells can I live with this wishing business?! Anything I want-it'swell nigh boring already!

He reached home, and his room, and she was there, small and lovely andvulnerable-looking in her nakedness, sitting up in his bed to smile and stretchforth her shapely arms to him as he entered. Mignureal, little Mignurealdaughter of the woman Hanse loved but did not even know he wished were hismother.

"Darling! I thought you'd never come home to me!"

He turned to close the door and pretended to have trouble with the latch,keeping his back to her while he frowned and wrestled with thoughts andemotions.

So she slid out of the bed and came to him. She was all willowy and evenlovelier, naked and softly lit, for there was only the light of the bright moonthat smiled boldly through the window.

Unable to resist her nearness and upraised arms, he stepped into her embrace andas they kissed his hands moved all over the back of her, from nape to sulcus andback. Both of them trembled, and both longed.

"Mignue, Mignue... what are you doing here?"

She smiled, pressed to him, and nuzzled his neck. "You know what I am doinghere, Hanse."

"Please... why did you come, Mignue? Why tonight? What prompted you to cometonight?"

"Because I wanted to be with you, darling-to be yours."

He squeezed his eyes shut. Oh damn, damn. Six more questions elicited similarlovely yet unsatisfactory answers. It was all circular. She has no idea andprobably didn't really want to do this at all, he thought in growing agony,she's here because I wished it and Ils sent her, that's all, and I feel... Ifeel just so, so... rotten!

She had just unbuckled and removed his belt, both sheaths included, and laid itcarefully aside on the old keg he used as nightstand. She turned only her head,to give him an arch look over her shoulder. Hanse swallowed hard, and again. Hefelt truly evil, truly a monster.

She turned to face him with her hands behind her back and her head partly down,flaunting her breasts, and swung her torso this way and that far more in themanner of a little girl than a temptress. Her eyes and voice, however, were notthose of a little girl: "Want me, Hanse?"

"Us and Eshi-who could not want you, Mignue? I-"

But that was the wrong thing to say, under the circumstances, which involved hismental state; a joyous smile sunned over her face and she ran to him across twowhole feet, her arms whipping around him. Hanse stood stiff, one hand justtouching her, while he chewed his lip and wished that he were- No! I wish thatif ever I wish that I were dead, it be not considered a wish! And "Oh," Mignuesaid, low, having discovered herself pressing against a very aroused male. Andher arms around him clamped the harder, and she pressed in harder.

He stroked her thick and very soft hair. Revelation and inspiration hit him andhe said it aloud: "Ah, Mignue, Mignue... I wish that you wanted to wrapyourself in my nice new cloak and just talk a while."

"This may sound awful," she said against his chest, "but know what I'd like todo?"

Yes, he did.

She looked unequivocally and downright dangerously fetching in that wine-darkcloak, especially sitting on his bed with her legs drawn up (within the cloak,gods be thanked). Yes, of course she remembered telling him to take the crossedbrown pot-and hadn't he? -Yes. And had it proven useful? -Yes. And he told herof that night, and she was astonished that he had done all that, rescuing themighty and apparently immortal Tempus. Yet, that she had saved his life did notastonish her.

"It is the S'danzo, Hanse. You must know that a S'danzo never tells a clientthat she foresees his death. Never. Nor does a S'danzo dare try to interferewith the way of a world and the will of the gods, other than to suggest thatthat person have a care." She sat with her arms enwrapping her drawn-up legs andher hand clasping her wrist, and she was not looking at the young man who sat onthe windowsill with his feet on the floor. He had drawn the drapes almostclosed, but the room was as if twilit, not nighted.

"On the other hand... with those we love, we S'danzo cannot See as well, becausethe emotions are involved- you know, darling. But! There is a compensation.Sometimes we can See the danger, often without realizing it, and See just whatthose we love should do to avoid or to, uh, cope with it."

Hanse blinked. She is telling me that she loves me... and has for over a year!Oh! Oh, g-Ils, Ils, god of my fa-hmp!-my mother. God of Gods... I wish that Iknew whether that were true or not! Or not, I say!

"There... I've said it. Now you know, Hanse, oh, Hanse. Now you know... I haveloved you, loved you, oh loved you for years-ever since first I saw you, surely,although I was only a girl then."

Hanse swallowed. He felt like melting wax and his eyes had gone all blurry. Me!Shadowspawn! Who ever loved me?! It's all I ever wanted-but I had to pretend,didn't I, so that when it happened, if it happened, I would know it was real...but I never would because I've always had to test, to try so hard not to behurt....

He tried to be unobtrusive about wiping the damned unmanly embarrassingglistening tear off his cheek. As soon as he had done, the other eye let go. Ihope she doesn't see, he thought, and was not even thinking about the power ofthe wish.

He asked her question after question about the whole Ils/Eshi/Vashanka business.She remembered none of it. She had had a horrible dream about his being foreverlost to her, beyond her, because he was in the arms of a goddess, and she hadwakened weeping. Her mother had held her and held her and crooned and spokensoft words to her and made her see that was silly, not at all logical or likelyor possible.

Of course, Hanse thought, and said, "Me! With a goddess? Oh Mignureal!"