The Door Into Shadow

saddle to look at her.
*' 'Berend?" he called anxiously through the screaming wind. Their eyes met.
She saw him. . saw Her. Lang looked no different. His voice still came out in a drawl. She could still underhear his mind lurching back and forth between indecision and placid acceptance. He still hated some things without reason, and loved others unreasonably. He still judged and criticized by provincial standards. He still smelled from not washing enough. . yet he was She, The One. And when Segnbora looked ahead at Herewiss or Eftgan, or back at any of the nameless five hundred following behind, or even at their horses, the result was the same, All &f them, everyone who lives. Every one: the Goddess—
"Lang," she said. It was almost a whisper, for she had little breath to spare' in. the grip of this painful ecstasy, This was the man whom she had used with casual cruelty, to whom she had
refused intimacy when she felt disinclined to it. Yet there within him the Goddess looked out at her — not judging, as She certainly had the right to do, and not angry, either— simply loving her totally, without hesitation. She had always known that the Goddess indwelt io every man and woman, but experiencing it this way, now, was something else again.
Joy, laced with bitterness at her years of callous disregard of the One she loved, rose until it choked her. Tears spilled over and froze on her face in the icy wind. Her voice wouldn't work anymore. Knowing it was useless, and driven by an overwhelming need to communicate somehow, she bespoke him. (Lang!)
He stared at her in sheer disbelief. "'* 'Berend?" He had heard her! The pain fell away from her joy like a cast-off cloak. Segn-bora sobbed, sagging in her saddle, and drew in a long breath. She had a great deal to tell him. (Loved—)

— and Gyrfalcon missed his footing, going down on his knees on a patch of ice. His hindquarters slipped off the path to the left, and the rest of him followed. Segnbora had a quick glimpse of Lang reaching for the ledge, more surprised than frightened, and that was all. "LANG!" she screamed.

Almost before the scream had left her throat, Sunspark had leaped away from the ledge and sunk down into the snow-swirling emptiness like a thunderbolt, streaming fire. The line of riders behind her halted as she, like Freelorn and Eftgan in front of her, peered down into the whiteness, dumb with shock. A long time they waited there for the bloom of fire through the snow. Then, slowly, the brightness came walking up through the air and stood again before the ledge. Herewiss was alone on Sunspark's back,

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('Berend,) Herewiss said, and had to pause. She could feel his eyes filling. (It was quick. I share your grief.)

All behind her, starting with Dritt, Mods, Harald, and the foremost of the Darthene riders, she could feel sorrow and fear spreading like ripples in a pool. She was numb, having fallen from such a height to such a depth so quickly. Yet still she could see Who consoled her as she looked at Herewiss.