The Second Book of Lankhmar

born. She hasn't always used it afterward and I don't think I've mentioned it until now."
           "I see," Afreyt said absently, as though lost in sudden thought.
           "You've stopped doing my back," the girl observed.
           "Because it's done," the other said. "It's pink all over. Tell me, child, did your mother Friska escape from Quarmall all by herself?"
           "No, Lady, she had her friend Ivivis with her, whom I grew to calling aunt in Tovilyis," Fingers explained, turning back so she faced the narrow gray door again, its outlines visible once more through the thinning steam. "They were smuggled out of Quarmall by their lovers, two mercenary warriors quitting the service of Quarmal and his two sons. The cavern world of Quarmall's no easy place to escape from, Lady, deep, secret, and mysterious. Fugitives are recaptured or die strangely. In the ports that rim the Inner Sea — Lankhmar, Ilthmar, Kvarch Nar, Ool Hrusp — it's deemed as fabulous a place as this Rime Isle."
           "What happened to the two mercenaries who were your mother's and aunt's lovers and worked their escape?" Afreyt inquired.
           "Ivivis quarreled with hers, and upon reaching Tovilyis, enlisted in the Guild of Free Women. My mother was nearing her time ( my time, it was) and elected to stay with her friend. Her lover (my father) left her money and swore to return some day, but of course never did."
           There was a flurry of knocking and the narrow gray door opened and closed, admitting Gale, who peered around eagerly through the thinning steam.
           "Has Uncle Fafhrd flown back down from the sky?" she demanded. "Why didn't you wake me? Those are his things outside, Aunty Afreyt!"
           "Not yet," that lady told her, "but there have been messages of sorts from him, or so it seems. After you two were sleeping, May brought me Fafhrd's belt, which she'd found hanging on a berry bush as though fallen from the sky. Her words, though she'd not heard your tale. I sent her and others hunting and went out myself, and there were soon discovered his two boots (one on a roof) and dirk and small-ax, which had split the council hall's weathercock."
           "He cast them down to lighten ship when he got above the fog." Gale rushed to conclusions.
           "That's the best guess I've heard," Afreyt said, reaching the dipper to Gale, handle first. "Renew the steam," she directed. "One cup."
           The girl obeyed. There was a gentler sizzling, and warm steam came billowing up around them again.
           "Maybe he's waiting for tonight's fog," the girl suggested. "I'm much more worried about Uncle Mouser."
           "The digging goes on and another clue's been unearthed — a sharpened iron tik (Lankhmar's least coin) such as the Gray One habitually carries on his person. So Cif told me when she was here early afternoon to bathe and change, while you two were still asleep. There'd been some difficulty about the air, but your aunt took care of it."
           "They'll find him," Gale assured her.
           "I share both your hopes for both the Captains," Fingers put in, returning somewhat to formality.
           "Fafhrd will be all right," Gale asserted confidently. "You see, I think he needs the fog to buoy him up, at least until he gets started stroking well, and the fog will be back before dawn. He'll swim down then."
           "Gale thinks her uncle can do anything," Afreyt explained, scrubbing her vigorously. "He's her hero."
           "He certainly is," the girl maintained aggressively. "And because he's my uncle, there can't be anything between us to spoil it when I'm fully grown up."
           "Truly a hero has many lady loves: whores, innocents, princesses," Fingers observed in tones that were both earnest and worldly wise. "That's one of the first things my mother told me."
           "Friska?" Afreyt checked.
           "Friska," Fingers confirmed, and then bethought herself of a compliment that would sustain the worldly mood which she enjoyed. "I must say, Lady, that I greatly admire the coolness and lack of jealousy with which you regard your lover's previous attachments. For Captain Fafhrd is surely a hero — I suspected as much when he began so swiftly and resolutely to dig for his friend and set the rest of us all helping. I became completely certain when he took off so blithely into the sky on his friend's