Blade also dropped the mask. He grabbed her wrist and dragged her roughly toward the quartered body and the slender ivory baton. She fought him, trying to break away, but when he picked up the baton she snatched at it. Blade held it high out of her reach and mocked her.

«I think, my Goddess, that you and Ptol are two of a kind. And Ptol outsmarted you. I think this is the work of his men, for you to see had you ever managed to arrive this far without me, and I think that Ptol would have had his little joke and have been waiting for you in a ship offshore. The killing of Tudd was insurance, no more. Ptol never expected you to get here. There is no help coming from Patmos, Goddess, none at all, and I advise you to be content with what you have, namely me, and leave off your airs and lies. And now tell me true-goddess! Do you still long for me?»

For the moment, as least, she was defeated. He sensed it in her and let go of her wrist. She rubbed it and gave him a sullen look.

«You hurt me, you great oaf. For which you will pay. None of this is your affair. Why do you poke and pry so? If you are a demon, and I believe this, you must have many strange powers. Use them, then, to get you back to your own land and away from me.»

Blade grinned and tickled her under the chin. She jerked away and struck at him with a small hand. «Do not dare to touch me!»

He laughed. «I like you better this way, Goddess. When you show spunk and spirit.»

Blade hefted the baton in his hand, laughing at her sullen helplessness as she watched, her fingers curled into Uttle cat claws. He screwed a cap off one end of the baton. There was a roll of parchment within.

«Now,» said Blade, all agrin, «now I think we begin to get somewhere. Who knows? — we may even get at a truth or two.»

Juna spat and would not look at him. He began to read aloud from the parchment:

To Izmia, Pearl of Patmos-to inform your Graciousness that my task is near finished in Thyrne. 1 car' do no more, must look to my own life and those of my people, and beg you send us transport to a place that Tudd-he who brings this-will know of. 1 plead you make all speed, for things are very chancy here. Our plan has succeeded in the main, in that 1 have encouraged battle between Samosta and Thyrne-so that both may be weakened thereby, especially Hectoris-and so gain for Patmos precious time in which to prepare for the invasion we know will come. 1 am suspect by Ptol, who judges rightly that Thyrne will fall and already seeks to curry favor with Hectoris. 1 know that Ptol is traitor to Thyrne, but cannot prove it and there is no time. 1 will explain all else when 1 see you. Now, as 1 have done the task assigned, great Pearl of Patmos, do 1 ask you to send succor to me at once. Your obedient and loving Yiljm

«Oh, ho,» said Blade, waving the parchment at her. «Ptol had some of it right after all. You did betray Thyme.»

She set her jaw; her eyes flashed. «Not so. I am no Thyrnian, so could not betray her. I never served her. I am of Patmos and serve only her-and my Queen, Izmia, Pearl of Patmos.»

Blade saw it then. As clearly as though he were reading a blueprint. Provocateurl An agent of Patmos paid to instigate war between Thyme and Samosta. He tapped the parchment scroll against his teeth and surveyed her with new understanding and admiration-as one professional to another. This was, after all, his own line of work.

«A spy,» he gibed, hoping that in anger she would give him more information. «A spy posing as a goddess!

Juna conspiring to bring Thyme and Samosta to battle so that Patmos will emerge the winner and be secure on her island. Clever girl. Cunning Izmia, whoever she is.»

Blade was familiar with the technique, an old standby back in Home Dimension. England had practiced it for centuries.

Juna, or Vilja, did not answer him for a moment. She studied his face instantly and Blade knew what she sought there-could she trust him and so unmask herself com pletely? Both understood the situation-she was com pletely in his power and at his mercy. When she took a step toward him he knew she had opted for candor and he felt relief. His own task was just beginning and he wel comed any easing of it. He would rather have her as friend than enemy. And there was the other thing he in tended to have her body and rape was not natural to him.

She extended her hand. Blade took it. «Let us go into the temple,» she said. «I will answer your questions with truth.»

She pointed to the remains of the unfortunate Tudd. «I need your help if I am to live and escape Ptol. Izmia has not had my message and will send no ships. But you, Blade, also need my help. You are a stranger-and, I still think, a demon-and vastly ignorant of matters. I will guide you.»

He nodded in agreement. And reminded himself that everything she told him he must accept with grain of salt. With that in mind, it could be a fair enough exchange.

They skirted the poor sundered body and climbed the plinth to the temple floor. Blade saw now that the structure was not put together in any ordinary manner, but had been carved out of living rock. Volcanic glass not black, as is obsidian, but burnished to a dull milky color. Blade had seen the great ruins of his own world; he had never seen workmanship like this. It must have taken centuries to complete. There was not a peg, a nail, nor a joint, and time had smoothed and obliterated the tool marks.

Two altars stood directly beneath a pyramidal vent in the ceiling. Mist condensed and dripped to fall on an antique statue of Juna carven from the same milky glass stone as the temple. They stood, hand in hand, contemplating it.

Her nose was missing, as was one ear and a hand which had been shorn by time or vandals. Yet the resemblance was there, the likeness to the flesh and blood beside him now, and Blade felt a chill along his spine. He countered it by concentrating on the lesser altar nearby. It was smooth; the size of a bed, and he marked it for use. Brown stains deep in the stone did not deter him.

But that could wait. He could wait and in the end be better pleasured for it. He pulled her down beside him on the small altar and put a big arm around her. And noticed, just opposite him, a rectangular dark hole in the temple wall. There would, he thought, be a boat of sorts concealed in there. Later.

He kissed her lightly. She clung to him and would have put her tongue in his mouth, but he pulled away. Business first.

«Now: Juna, Goddess or Vilja? Which is it to be?»

She nestled her head on his shoulder. «Vilja is my birth name. I am fourth grandchild to Izmia, Pearl of Patmos.»

He would be dealing with an old woman, a grandmother. It did not disturb Blade. He could handle old women as well as young ones.

«I will call you Juna,» he said. «I like it better and it was so that I first knew you. But only Juna-we will forget that you are, were, a goddess. But tell me-how came you to be a goddess in the first place?»

As she explained he admitted that it was a masterpiece of foresight and planning. An astute move in the Triangular War and that had been waged for over a century between Thyrne and Samosta and Patmos; a war that flared the fiercer because of long periods of peace. Of the three countries Patmos was the weakest-for reasons which Blade, to his infinite disgust, would soon find out-and the most blessed because Patmos was an island. Heretofore this had saved her from invasion.

«But now,» said Juna, breathing a bit faster and nestling closer to Blade, «now the sea is no longer a barrier on which Patmos can depend. Hectoris, chief of Samosta, began years ago to build a vast fleet of invasion craft.»

Blade nodded and nibbled on her soft fragrant ear. «I know already that Patmos has good intelligence. You knew of this ship building and took steps to counter it. I 3 understand all that, but you evade me-how came you to be the goddess Juna?»