More Than Fire

"The Thokina! The Thokina!" she muttered. "It can't be!"

"Why not?"

She swung around to face him. "Because they are only creatures of folklore and legend born of primitive fears and imagination! When I was a child, my parents and the house slaves told me stories about them. In some of these, the Thokina were a nonhuman species who were the predecessors of the Thoan. In other tales, they made the first Thoan and enslaved them. Then the Thoan revolted and killed all but one. That sole survivor fled to some unknown universe, according to the story, and put himself into a sort of suspended animation. But the tale, which was a very spooky one for a child, told of how he would rise one day when the time was ripe and would join the greatest enemy of the Thoan and help him slay all of them. That greatest enemy would be a leblabbiy.

"The tale also described how he would then kill the last Thoan and become the Lord of all the worlds.

"But another story said that he would join the lablabbiy and help them overthrow the Lords. The tales made enjoyable hair-raising stories for the children. But that the Thokina could actually be ... that ... that. .."

"I am not lying," he said. "And I was wondering about the image of the scaly man I saw on a goblet during the feast."

"If a Thokina has risen from his sleep and is somewhere out there, what does he intend to do?"

"All you know now is that they did and do exist. You really don't know if he'll be hostile or friendly."

He wondered if some of that fright she'd felt as a child when hearing the tale was still living in her.

She sat down, leaned toward him, and clamped her hand around his wrist. He winced as his wristbones seemed to bend in toward each other. Her grip was as strong as he imagined a gorilla's would be. He certainly did not want to tangle with her, not in a fight, anyway.

"This scaly man is an unknown factor. Therefore, until we know better, he's a danger. Tell me. Did you tell Red Orc about him?"

"I did not. I wouldn't tell him anything that he might use."

She loosed her grip. Kickaha felt like rubbing his wrist, but he was not going to let anyone, not even a goddess, know that her grip was so powerful that she had hurt him.

She said, "Good. We have that advantage. Another is that Red Orc does not know where you are. Now, when you resume your journey to the Caverned World, you-"

One does not twice interrupt a goddess, but he did it anyway. "Resume my journey?"

"Of course. I took it for granted that you would. You did give your word to him that you would, didn't you?"

"It doesn't matter if I did or not. He knew I'd return to him because he said that Anana might be alive and his prisoner. I doubt very much that she did survive the flash flood. But I can't chance it that she didn't."

"You didn't get to tell the rest of your story."

He ended his narration at the point where he had jumped into the trap she had placed before the Thoan's gate.

She said, "You're an extraordinary man, though you've had more luck than most would have had. It may run out soon. Then again. .."

They talked of other things. Kickaha sipped on the liquor. Near the end of their conversation, he felt even more hopeful than he usually did, and he was almost always high on optimism.

The goddess stood up and looked down at him. Her expression seemed to show fondness for him. He felt more than fondness for her.

"It's agreed that you will go on looking for Zazel's World. You'll have an advantage doing that because I know a gateway that I doubt anyone else knows. My powers are not small, though this is a mammoth project. I will try to keep you within detection range of the glindglassa, though I am not at all sure that I can do that. You will spend several more days here resting and exercising and discussing with me the details of our plan. You look tired. You will go to bed, and you may rise when you feel like it."

"I sometimes rise when I don't feel like it."

She smiled and said, "Unless I'm wrong, you are implying more than appears on the surface of your words."

"I usually do."

"For a leblabbiy, you are very brash."

"There's some doubt that I am a leblabbiy, completely leblabbiy, that is. I may be half-Thoan, but I'm not eager to find out if I am. What is is, and I am what I am."

"We'll talk about that some other time. You are dismissed."

She's really putting me in my place, he thought. Oh well, it was the liquor talking. Or was it?

Anana's bright face arced across his mind. For a moment, he felt as if he were going to weep.

She patted him on the shoulder and said, "Grief is a price paid for admission to life."

She paused, then said, "Bromides help few people in times of sorrow. But there are some things I know that could ease the grief."

She said nothing more. He went up to his room and prepared for bed. When he got into it, he had some trouble getting to sleep. But only fifteen or so minutes passed before he was gone from the waking world. He awoke with a start and reached for the beamer under his pillow. A noise? A soft voice? Something had awakened him. By then, the beamer, which he kept under his pillow, was in his hand. Then he saw, silhouetted in the doorless entrance against the dusk-light of the hallway, a woman's figure. She was so tall that she had to be Manathu Vorcyon. He smelled a faint odor. This might have brought him up out of sleep; the nose was also sentinel against danger. The odor was musky but not perfume from a bottle. It hinted at fluids flowing and fevers floating hot and steamy from a swamp, a strange image but appropriate. The odor was that of the flesh of a woman in heat, though stronger than any he had ever smelled.

She walked slowly toward him.

"Put the beamer down, Kickaha."

He placed it on the floor and waited, his heart thudding as if it were a stallion's hooves kicking against a stall door. She eased herself down on her knees and then on her side against Kickaha. Her body heat was like a wave from a just-opened furnace door.

"It has been eighty years since I have had a child," she whispered. "Since then, I have met no man whose baby I cared to bear, though I have bedded many splendid lovers. But you, Kickaha, the man of many wiles, the man who is never at a loss, the hero of many adventures, you will give me a child to love and and to raise. And I know that I have stirred in you a mighty passion. Moreover, you are one of the very few men not afraid of me."

Kickaha was not sure of that. But he had overcome fear most of his life, and he would ride over this fear, which was not a big one, anyway.

He thought of Anana, though the withdrawal of blood from his brain for nonmental uses paled the thought. If she were dead, she would be no barrier for him to other women. But he did not know if she had died, and he and Anana had sworn faithfulness to each other. They would honor the vow unless they were separated for a long time or were forced by circumstances to suspend it for a while. What they did in such situations was left to each to justify to himself or herself.

Her mouth met his, and the right breast of Mother Earth, in itself a planet, rested on his belly.

He thought, I am in her power. I depend upon her to help me in the battle with Red Orc. The fate of whole universes is on the scales. If I say no to her, I might weigh the balance in favor of Red Orc. No, that's nonsense, but she might not be so enthusiastic in helping me. Also, a guest does not offend a hostess. It's not good ma

Mainly, though, I want to do this.

He sighed, and he said, "I am indeed deeply sorry, Great Mother. But Anana and I swore absolute fidelity to each other. Much as I desire you, and I've desired only Anana more than you, I will not do this."

She stiffened, then got up. Looking down at him, she said, "I honor your vow, Kickaha. Even though I can see plainly in this dim light that you are not at all indifferent to me."