They were walking along a side street in the Maze. But a goodly crowd pressed by at that moment. So if Quag were contemplating a reply it was interrupted by the passing of so great a number of individuals.

When they had wended through the mob, Stulwig continued, 'After all, we have to remember that it is Ils that is the god of a thousand eyes. Which, presumably, means that he can see simultaneously where everybody in the world of Ilsig is at any one moment. No such claim - of many eyes - is made for either Savankala or his son, Vashanka. And so we may guess that Vashanka does not know that-'

He stopped, appalled. He had almost let slip that the goddess Azyuna had come to Enas Yorl with a warning. And, of course, her brother-lover, with his limited vision, would not know that she had done so.

'These are all fine points,' Stulwig finished lamely, 'and of concern only to an individual like myself who seems to have earned the displeasure of one of these mighty beings.'

Quag was calm. 'Having lived many years,' he said, 'it could be that I have some clarifying information for you, whereby you may judge the seriousness of your situation.' He continued, after a moment of silence,' In Sanctuary, the reason for the gods interfering in human affairs can have only one underlying motive. Someone has got above himself. What would be above a healer? A woman of noble family taken advantage of. An insult to a priest or god. Was your father guilty of either sin?'

'Hmmm!' Stulwig did not resist the analysis. He nodded thoughtfully in the Sanctuary way of agreement, shaking his head from side to side. 'No question,' he said, 'it was not a chance killing. The assassin by some means penetrated a barricaded residence, committed the murder, and departed without stealing any valuables. In a city where people are daily killed most casually for their possessions, when - as in this instance of my father's assassination - the possessions are untouched, we are entitled to guess a more personal motive.'

He added unhappily, 'I have to confess that the reason I did not run to his rescue when I heard his cry, was that he had established an agreement with me that neither of us would intrude upon the other during the night hours. So it could have been a lady of quality being avenged.'

For a small time they walked silently. Then: 'I advise you to abandon this search.' Quag spoke earnestly. 'Go back to your healing profession, and leave murderers to the authorities.'

This time Stulwig did the up and down headshake, meaning no. He said unhappily, 'When Ils himself manifests in a dream, which unmistakably commands me to track down the killer, I have no choice.'

The Hell Hound's craggy face was visibly unimpressed. 'After all,' he said dismissingly, 'Your Ils failed all his people in Sanctuary when he allowed the city to be overrun by armies that worshipped another god.'

'The city is being punished for its sinfulness.' Stulwig automatically spoke the standard explanation given by the priests of Ils. 'When we have learned our lesson, and paid our penalty, the invader will be impelled to depart.'

'When I left the palace,' said Quag, 'there was no sign of the prince's slaves packing his goods.' Shrugging. 'Such a departure for such a reason is difficult for me to envision, and I suggest you build no hopes on it.'

He broke off. 'Ah, here we are. As soon as you are safely inside - and of course we'll search the place and make sure there is no one lurking in a dark corner-'

It was a few periods later. 'Thank you,' said a grateful Stulwig. He watched them, then, go down the stairs. When Quag paused at the bottom, and looked back questioningly, Stulwig dutifully closed and barricaded the door.

And there he was.

It was a quiet evening. Two men patients and one woman patient knocked on the door. Each, through the vent, requested healing service. Stulwig sent the men down the street to Kurd; and they departed in their considerably separated times, silently accepting.

Stulwig hesitated when he heard the woman's voice. She was a long-time patient, and would pay in gold. Nevertheless, he finally directed her to a healer named Nemis. When the woman objected, he gave as his excuse that he had eaten bad food, and was not well. She seemed to accept that; for she went off, also.

Shortly after midnight there was a fourth hesitant knock. It was Illyra. As he heard her whisper, something inside Stulwig leaped with excitement. She had come, she said, as they had agreed upon that morning. .

An exultant Stulwig unlocked the door. Admitted her. Motioned her towards his bedroom. And, as she went with a heavy rustling of her numerous skirts, he barricaded the door again.

Moments later, he was snuffing out the candles, and flinging off his clothes. And then in pitch darkness he joined her in the bed. As he located her naked body, he had no sense of guilt; no feeling of being wrong.

In Sanctuary everybody knew the game. There were no prissies. Every woman was someone's mistress whether she liked it or not. Every man was out for himself, and took advantage where he could. There were, true, codes of honour and religion. But they did not apply to love, liquor, or making a living. You drove the hardest bargain right now.

The opportunity seen. Instantly, the mind wildly scanned the possibilities. Then came the initial outrageous demand, thereupon negotiated downward by the equally determined defences of the second party to the transaction.

And that was what had brought the beautiful Illyra into his embrace. Her own agreement that, unless something happened to interfere, she would be available for him in the man-woman relation.

Apparently, once she realized that the bargain was binding, she did not resist its meaning. In the darkness Stulwig found her naked body fully acceptant of him. Complete with many small motions and excitements. Most of the women who paid in kind for his services lay like frozen statues, occasionally vibrating a little in the final moments of the act. After which they hastily slipped out of bed. Dressed. And raced off down the stairs and out into the Maze.

With Illyra so different, even to the point of sliding her palms over his skin, Stulwig found himself thinking once more of the huge blacksmith who was her established lover. It was hard to visualize this female, even though she seemed somewhat larger than he would have guessed, with such a massive male on top of her. Although-

A sudden realization: there were surprisingly strong muscles that lay under him. ... This woman is no weakling. In fact-

Presently, as he proceeded with the lovemaking, Stulwig found himself mentally shaking his head ... Those voluminous S'danzo skirts, he thought, conceal more than slender flesh - his sudden impression was that, in fact, Illyra was on the plump side. And that obviously she wore the skirts to hide a considerably heavier body than she wanted onlookers to know about. Not hard to do, with her face so thin and youthful.

No mind. She was a woman who had not been easy to capture.

And here she was, actually responding. Interesting, also, that her skin felt unusually warm, almost as if she had a temperature.

He was coming to the climax. And so the size of her was temporarily blanked out. Thus, the awareness of a transformation of her plump body into that of an Amazon, was like coming out of a glorious dream into a nightmare.

His sudden impossible impression: he was lying on top of a woman over six feet tall, with hips that spread out beneath him at least a foot wider than he was.

His stunned thought, immediately spoken: 'Illyra, what is this? Some sorceress's trick?'