'Still she owes you something, for delivering her out of the hands ofRabben.' .
Lythande said, 'I will think about it; and now make haste to bring me food, for I am hungry and athirst.' Taken to a private room, Lythande ate and drank, served by Myrtis's own hands. And Myrtis said, 'I could never have sworn your vow - to eat and drink in the sight of no man!'
'If you sought the power of a magician, you would keep it well enough,' said Lythande. 'I am seldom tempted now to break it; I fear only lest I break it unawares; I cannot drink in a tavern lest among the women there might be some one of those strange men who find diversion in putting on the garments of a female; even here I will not eat or drink among your women, for that reason. All power depends on the vows and the secret.'
'Then I cannot aid you,' Myrtis said, 'but you are not bound to speak truth to her; tell her you have vowed to live without women.'
'I may do that,' Lythande said, and finished the food, scowling.
Later Bercy was brought in, wide-eyed, enthralled by her fine gown and her freshly washed hair, softly curling about her pink-and-white face and the sweet scent of bath oils and perfumes that hung about her.
'The girls here wear such pretty clothes, and one of them told me they could eat twice a day if they wished! Am I pretty enough, do you think, that Madame Myrtis would have me here?'
'If that is what you wish. You are more than beautiful.'
Bercy said boldly, 'I would rather belong to you, magician,' and flung herself again on Lythande, her hands clutching and clinging, dragging the lean face down to hers. Lythande, who rarely touched anything living, held her gently, trying not to reveal consternation.
'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 little ripple, that warning thrill of tension which said: spell-casting is in use. Not against Lythande. That could have been countered. But somewhere within the room.
Here, in the Aphrodisia House? Myrtis, Lythande knew, could be trusted with life, reputation, fortune, the magical power of the Blue Star itself; she had been tested before this. Had she altered enough to turn betrayer, it would have been apparent in her aura when Lythande came near.
That left only the girl, who was clinging and whimpering, 'I will die if you do not love me! I will die! Tell me it is not true, Lythande, that you are unable to love! Tell me it is an evil lie that magicians are emasculated, incapable of loving woman ...'
'That is certainly an evil lie,' Lythande agreed gravely. 'I give you my solemn assurance that I have never been emasculated.' But Lythande's nerves tingled as the words were spoken. A magician might lie, and most of them did. Lythande would lie as readily as any other, in a good cause. But the law of the Blue Star was 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 one question away from the fatal one hiding the Secret.
With a mighty effort, Lythande's magic wrenched at the very fabric of Time itself; the girl stood motionless, aware of no lapse, as Lythande stepped away far enough to read her aura. And yes, there within the traces of that vibrating field 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 had staged and contrived the whole thing, including the encounter where the girl had needed 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 all would be needed to fight side by side, on the last day, against Chaos. Yet if one adept could prise forth the secret of another's power ... then the powerless one was not needed against Chaos and could be killed.
What could be done now? Kill the girl? Rabben would take that, too, as an answer; Bercy had been so bespelled as to be irresistible to any man; if Lythande sent her away untouched, Rabben would know that Lythande's secret lay in that area and would never rest in his attempts to uncover it. For if Lythande was untouched by this sex-spell to make Bercy irresistible, then Lythande was a eunuch, or a homosexual, or ... sweating, Lythande dared not even think beyond that. The Secret was safe only if never questioned. It would not be read in the aura; but one simple question, and all was ended.
I should kill her, Lythande thought. For now I am fighting, not for my magic alone, but for my secret and for my life. For surely, with my power gone, Rabben would lose no time in making an end of me, in revenge for the loss of half a hand.
The girl was still motionless, entranced. How easily she could be killed! Then Lythande recalled an old fairy-tale, which might be used to save the Secret of the Star.
The light flickered as Time returned to the chamber. Bercy was still clinging and weeping, unaware of the lapse; Lythande had resolved what to do. and the girl felt Lythande's arms enfolding her, and the magician's kiss on her welcoming mouth.
'You must love me or I shall die!' Bercy wept.
Lythande said, 'You shall be mine.' The soft neutral voice was very gentle. 'But even a magician is vulnerable in love, and I must protect myself. A place shall be made ready for us without light or sound save for what I provide with my magic; and you must swear that you will not seek to see or to touch me except by that magical light. Will you swear it by the All-Mother, Bercy? For if you swear this, 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, for Rabben had used her ruthlessly; so that she burned alive with her unslaked and bewitched love for the magician, that she was all caught up in her passion for Lythande. Painfully, Lythande thought; if she had only loved me. without the spell; then I could have loved ... ,.
Would that I could trust her with my secrete But she is only Rabben's tool; her love for me is his doing, and none of her own will... and not real... And so everything which would pass between them now must be only a drama staged for Rabben.
'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 known Lythande since long before the blue star was set between those eyes; and she kept the Secret for love of Lythande. It wrung her heart to see one she loved in the grip of such suffering. So she said, 'All will be prepared. Shall I give her a drug in her wine to weaken her will, that you may the more readily throw a glamour upon her?'
Lythande's voice held a terrible bitterness. 'Rabben has done that already for us, 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 would have 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 light but the light of the Blue Star. The girl lay on a bed, stretching up her arms to the magician with exalted abandon.
'Come to me, come to me, my love!'
'Soon,' said Lythande, sitting beside her, stroking her hair with a tenderness even Myrtis would never have guessed. 'I will sing to you a love-song of my people, far away.'
She writhed in erotic ecstasy. 'All you do is good to me, my love, my magician!'