Robert Asprin: The Face of Chaos

Beside the pallet were piled some scraps of paper and a piece of charcoal. Can I still draw? he wondered, and seeing that Gilla was not watching him, he pulled a piece of paper towards him, picked up the charcoal and drew a line, then another, then some shading, and the paper showed him a deftly drawn representation of a common Sanctuary dunghill fly. He stared at it for a moment with a question he dared not even put into words, but it remained unchanged before him - a drawing of a fly.

Lalo smiled a little wryly and set the charcoal down. What did I expect, here?

Gilla came back to him with the bowl of steaming soup in her hands, sat down beside the pallet, and dipped in the spoon. Lalo blew gently on his drawing to get rid of the charcoal dust and laid it aside. When Gilla held the spoon to his lips he opened his mouth obediently. / could do this myself, he thought, but he realized that feeding him fulfilled some need of Gilla's own. The hot liquid soothed his throat, and his body seemed to absorb the moisture like a sponge.

'That's enough for now,' said Gilla, taking it away.

'It was very good.' Lalo looked at her face, wondering how he had ever seen anything but the goddess there. Then he frowned. 'I was painting a picture, Gilla. What happened to it?'

She nodded towards the corner. 'It's over there. Do you want to see?' Before he could stop her she had gone to pick up the painting and brought it to him, leaning it against the wall.

He stared at it, reading it as he had read Gilla's face a moment ago, and knowing that he would never be able to forget the journey from which he had just returned. It would take some getting used to.

'A self-portrait,' said Gilla meditatively. 'Of course. I didn't really want to look at it before.'

After a moment he cleared his throat, knowing that in this knowledge, at least, they were equals now. 'Well?'

'Well,' she said slowly, 'you must know that this is the way you always look to me.'

Her hand moved to enfold his, and feeling suddenly light-headed. Lalo lay back against the pillows again. His ears were buzzing - no - it was only a fly circling in the middle of the room. He thought a moment, then, feeling a little foolish, glanced down at the piece of paper that still lay on the coverlet.

It was blank. Lalo looked up quickly and saw the fly spiral across to the mirror, for a moment hover there, then buzz purposefully through the window and away.