Perhaps you should have come to Sanctuary sooner. It cannot just have been because of meeting me that you were saved! I won’t believe it!”
So saying, she spun on her heel and marched back into the scripto- rium. Much relieved, the apprentice slammed and barred the door behind her. White flakes swirled down outside as she went to seek a breakfast of hot broth and dumplings.
By nightfall-for such had been the will of Enas Yorl-she cared no more for Klikitagh save in the sense that all misfortune must be pitied, and he had been least fortunate of all. He lingered in her memory as myth and symbol; meantime she had a life to lead herself.
“Mayhap,” thought the wizard who sprawled across stone flags in guise but ill adapted to such human artifacts as chairs, “that snow en- shrouding Klikitagh, by his own verdict foulest villain of all time. will cover me in turn. Let it be soon!”
Whereafter he composed himself to patient meditation, tinged with regret that for the duration of their present encounter he and Jarveena would be unable to make love.
SEEING IS BELIEVING (BUT LOVE IS BLIND)
Lynn Abbey
Illyra awoke to the sound of an infant’s crying and a sudden stiffening of the muscles in her neck and shoulders. She stayed that way, tense- almost cringing-until she heard the wet nurse shove her blankets aside, then stumble across the night-dark room. The crying changed to con- tented sucking sounds; Illyra closed her eyes and shrank back into Dubro’s arms. He hugged her reflexively but the infant had not inter- rupted his sleep. Why should it? Children were women’s work and this child was not even his.