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osity of other G.o.ds," another deep voice rang out, coming from floor level at the far side of the platform. "As you mink so little of the gift given you, it will now, in punish- ment, be withdrawn."

By that time he had climbed to the platform step to stare calmly at the man in silver, but he was the only calm one in the entire room. I gaped at him stupidly, finding it impossible to believe that he was really there, seeing the way the torches made his bronze eyes glow even more strongly than usual. The kneeling men below the platform were gasping and exclaiming in horror, but the man with the silver eyes was nearly foaming in rabid rage.

"You would dare?" he demanded, his voice choked and nearly incoherent, one fist held closed before him in fury.

"/ am the G.o.d here, and there are no others, none! My word is supreme and my will is all! No cub can come to give me insult in my world, I refuse to allow it! To your knees, boy, and worship at the feet of your divine supe- rior! Down, I say!"

"And 1 say no," Rik answered, still as calm and unim- pressed as he had been, his arms folded across his leather shirt. His sword hung sheathed at his side, but since the man in silver had no sword, he "seemed to be ignoring it.

"Then you will die!" Thannar'spat, insane triumph glaring from his eyes. He appeared to be delighted that Rik had refused to grovel like everyone else, that he would now be given an opportunity to do something he loved to do. The silver gleam of his eyes began growing and strengthening-and then started spreading to the rest of him! As his form began blurring and shirting everyone in the room cried out in terror, giving voice to a fear they were very well used to, but still cringed before. I moved quickly along the stone to the very edge of the platform step, trying to get out of the way, finally understanding why the people of that world thought Thannar was a G.o.d.

He was a man with a link-shape, something no one else of that world could possibly be, and because of that was someone to be worshiped.

The first cries of terror had been augmented by more, since Rik hadn't just stood there waiting to be attacked.

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He, too, had reached toward his link-shape, and in a matter of moments the platform held two beasts rather than two men. One was big and silver and the other was big and bronze, and as soon as they were fuliy formed they leaped at each other, snarls of blood-need sounding instead of words. They came together with a thud of strength, and then it was time for claws and teeth.

"The will of a G.o.d is not to be denied," came a sudden chanting from behind me. all of the voices clearly petri- fied. "No man can conquer a G.o.d nor refuse his desires.

We who are nothing bow to the one who is ail. His victory will be our victory, and in his victory he will stand alone.

We who are nothing worship the one who is all. His glow lights the way of our lives . . ."

The voices continued on and on, a terrified litany which became a backdrop for the raging battle on the platform step. Amid the snarling and biting and clawing that the words nearly drowned out, it came to me that the prayer wasn't being specifically directed toward Thannar; not once was the G.o.d-king's name mentioned, and I wondered if the people were using that particular prayer to cover themselves. If Thannar won, they were just speaking the words he had obviously taught them; if by some chance the strange G.o.d won, he should not feel insulted over not having been prayed to. I just sat there and watched the fight, half afraid to wonder what Thannar had meant by calling Rik a "cub." It was true that people with link- shapes lived a very long time, and Thannar was a good deal older than Rik; did that mean his link-shape was also a better, more experienced fighter?

Right at that moment, it was difficult coming up with an answer to that question; the two beasts were too closely locked into their battle. A sharp-fanged silver mouth bit at a bronze shoulder and leg white a bronze head tried bury- ing its mouth in a silver throat, and the two bodies thrashed around so violently with slashing claws that the two colors almost merged into one. Blood, of course, had already been drawn on both of them, but neither one was paying the least attention to it. I began moving around the platform step to the side Rik had appeared from, trying even harder

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to keep out of the way. The middle of that fight was no place for anyone who didn't have teeth and claws like theirs, and 1 was suddenly all through with resenting being left out of things.

The snarling, raging battle went on for what seemed like a very long time, but I suppose it wasn't as long as it felt.

None of the natives tried interfering, of course, and even if I'd been able to, I wouldn't have known when to do it.

One minute the silver beast had the upper hand, so to speak, but the next minute it was Rik's turn, the great bronze body of his link-shape forcing its way free of silver claws or fangs to counterattack with a ferocity that at least matched his opponent's. The b.l.o.o.d.y wounds were increas- ing on both of them, and every time teeth closed on fur and flesh 1 could almost feel the pain of it myself.

A fight between human opponents can sometimes end in a draw, but that doesn't often happen with our fiercer cousins who fight with natural weapons. Only if one of the opponents is willing to run can both of them survive a meeting, and in that instance there was no such willing- ness. The ongoing back and forth stopped suddenly when the silver beast lunged for a bronze head and eye and missed, leaving itself wide open" and extended. The chant- ing filling the room faltered when lightning-quick fangs closed on a silver throat, causing a howl of pain that rang from ceiling and walls with a near-human desperation. The silver beast who was Thannar had made a mistake, the last one he would ever make, something everyone knew at once when the howl abruptly cut off. The fangs in his throat were sinking deeper and deeper despite the way his body thrashed violently, trying to free itself, his claws raking uselessly at the bronze body now above his. Grimly, the bronze beast refused to release his hold, and slowly, slowly, the silver body ceased its struggles before one last shudder racked his body. Then he lay still, lifeblood ruin- ing the shining silver of his coat, a dullness glazing the silver of his eyes, death pouring forth from the gaping wound in his throat. Thannar the G.o.d-king was no more, and the bronze beast standing over him with blazing eyes challenged anyone or anything to deny that.

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For an instant there was absolute silence in that very large room, as though there wasn't anyone in it who was as much as breathing, and then, as though some signal had been given, everyone including the few guardsmen were on their knees with their heads to the stone. The G.o.d-king was dead, long live the new G.o.d-king, but that wasn't the way the victor wanted it. His beast body shimmered in a bronze glow and then he had changed back to a man, one who didn't spend any time at all gloating over his win or inspecting his new foHowers. He moved soundlessly to the place 1 kneit, lifted me to my feet by one arm, then pulled me down the steps of the platform after him, hurrying silently to the rear of the platform. Just beyond the curve of the steps was a section of stone not quite as solid as it appeared; one push and it had opened like a door, and then I was thrust through into a narrow corridor of black.

1 suppose the narrow corridor would have been com- pletely silent if not for the heavy thudding of my heart, especially after Rikkan Addis closed the stone door again behind him, making the darkness even more solid- Very briefly he'd let go of my arm, and then he was squeezing past me and taking my hand instead.

"There aren't many turnings along this pa.s.sageway, but there are a few," he whispered, the faint sound of a sword sc.r.a.ping stone coming with his words. "If you don't let go of my hand we won't get separated, so hold on tight. We ought to have a decent head start before they come charg- ing after us, and they won't be able to come through that door, not with the bar in place. Let's go."

"Wait a minute!" I whispered back, confused by what he'd said. "Why should they come charging after us? You beat Thannar in a fair fight, and the way they bowed to you proves they know it. Won't they be too afraid to try and stop you?"

"Laciel, all their lives are built around having a G.o.d- king, and now they don't have one," he answered with a sigh as soft as his words. "As soon as they come out of their shock and realize I've left the palace, they'll come after me to get me back. Right now they have to have a G.o.d-king, and I don't want to be conscripted for the job.

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There are other things I'd much rather be doing, and bowing and sc.r.a.ping makes me uncomfortable. Now will you please come on?"

He began moving deeper into the dark with his big hand wrapped around my fingers, which left me no choice but to go along. Not that I would have stayed if I'd been given the choice; my visit at the palace hadn't been the highlight of our quest journey for me, and the thought of getting out of there was one with a lot of appeal in it.

Our pace along the very dark pa.s.sageway was faster than I'd thought it would be, a deliberate traversal rather than a cautious groping through the unknown. It finally came to me that Rik was probably able to see a lot better than I could, and that was why he hadn't used a torch- which would be smoky and hot in such confined s.p.a.ces.

Every time I stepped on a pebble or a rough spot on the uneven stone floor I cursed silently under my breath, wishing / could see that way; if you can't do magic, the next best thing is to have a magical talent.

It took quite a while to make our way to the other end of the pa.s.sage, and when Rik cautiously opened the door there, i was surprised to see the outer night rather than some place inside. He carefulty stuck his head out and looked all around, then took my hand again and pulled me after him, both of us running toward the comer of a dark building about sixty feel from our exit door. He didn't slow down until we were around that comer, and even then he didn't slow much. We continued at a half run, constantly looking all around, until we peered through a tali hedge to the left of the building we'd been moving near; behind the hedge were five brown horses tied to a post, and a minute later we were mounted and moving along a very dark, very quiet street.

Dressed as I was, I was terribly cold, very uncomfortable in the hard leather saddle, and bruising my feet even more in the metal stirrups, but that didn't seem to be the time to mention it. Somewhere behind us and rather far away a sound floated on the night air, something tike shouting and yelling from numberless throats. There was an agonized quality to the shouting, a hint of loss and a desperate need

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to heal that loss, and I would have shivered even if I hadn't been cold. People, it seemed, weren't very eager to lose their G.o.d, even when he was as mad as Thannar had been.

Finding our way out of the city took even more hours, a combination of locating the proper streets, slinking through shadows, hiding at the least chance a noise meant someone was coming, finding a detour when groups of natives appeared to be somewhere ahead of us. Slinking on horse- back isn't the easiest thing to do, and once, when a troop of Sacred Guards rode past us so close that we could have touched them, 1 understood what Dranna had meant about feeling helpiess. If any of them had had a torch to light the deep shadows where we were hiding, they would have seen us in an instant. Rikkan Addis would have been able to get away by shifting to his link-shape, but I would have been able to do nothing more than sit there and let them recapture me. Not that they really wanted me. It was a new G.o.d-king they were after, and I would be nothing more than an addition to his harem.

Getting out of the city was harder than we'd thought it would be, and if we hadn't used our horses as a diversion we might not have made it. We headed them back into the city with duplicate slaps, and when some of the roadblock guards went to investigate the source of their receding hoofbeals, we slipped through their thinned-out line and ran for the fields. Once again Rikkan Addis had my hand.

and if he hadn't kept pulling me along I probably wouldn't have gotten very far. The fields were dark, and I kept stepping on things that hurt my already-bruised feet, and my lungs felt as though they were on fire, and I was still coid in spite of the way I had begun sweating from the run and the trot we eventually slowed to. The field we crossed was wet with dew, but after ten or fifteen minutes a misting drizzle began adding to it. The automaton clamped to my hand ignored it all and just kept trotting along, a pace I was sure was a concession to me. I thought briefly about forcing myself back to a run just to show that 1 could, then immediately dismissed the idea. Running again was something I couldn't, not unless my life depended on

it, and maybe not even then. All I could do was trot along with one hand to the necklace beads to keep them from clacking, and hope we got wherever we were going before I dropped in my tracks.

When we finally stopped, it took me a minute to under- stand that we had. I'd been concentrating on nothing more than keeping my feet moving, and when I looked up to see where we were became aware of the dark, looming build- ing we stood beside. It had to be one of the big barns we'd pa.s.sed when we'd ridden around the city, and Rikkan Addis was fiddling with something that hung down the side of it just where we'd come to a halt.

"Do you think you can hold on tight around my neck?"

he asked over his shoulder in a low voice, unbelievably sounding not winded at all. "It won't be very long now before it starts getting light, and we'd never make it past the rest of these fields before that even on horseback. We have to have some place to hide until it gets dark again."

"But won't they find us if we stop this close to the city?" 1 asked with the small amount of breath I had left, wishing I hadn't thought of the objection. "Shouldn't we try for a barn-farther away?"

"Even if that was a better idea, I don't think we could make it," he said, turning to look down at me while trying not to sound really concerned-about me. "Happily, this is the best place for us, and the place where our horses are hidden. Let's get inside, and then I'll tell you all about it."

Arguing or asking for answers right then would have taken breath I didn't have, and getting inside wasn't sim- ply a matter of opening a door and walking in. What Rikkan Addis had been fiddling with was a rope, and in order to get up that rope I had to lock my arms around his neck from behind him while he climbed the thing. I hon- estly didn't see how he could pull the weight of two people up a rope in the dark, using only his arms, but the harder part turned out to be holding onto him while he did it. If the run across the fields hadn't caused him to breathe hard, that climb up the rope made up for it; he was close to panting before we reached a darker rectangle that was a

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wide, unshuttered window, and I was close to losing my grip on him. As soon as I could I reached out with one foot, hooked it in the window just as he did the same, and then we were swinging inside to where we could stand again Rather than standing I moved back a few feet and then let myself fall to the thick straw covering the wooden floor, wondering if I'd ever be able to use my arms again, but the man I'd been holding onto didn't do the same. Still breathing hard he pulled all of the rope inside the window, and only then moved away from it to collapse to the straw the way I had. I lay there listening to both of us trying to use up all the air that world contained, intending to get my breath back and then ask a few questions, but my exhaus- tion had another idea. Even before the gasping had stopped.

1 fell asleep.