Абрахам Меррит - Dwellers in the Mirage

Two days they were gone—but they had found the pack. They brought word of peace between the Ayjir and the Little People. As for me—

Dwayanu the Deliverer had come even as the prophecy had promised… had come and freed them from the ancient doom…and had gone back as was his right to that place from which, answering the prophecy, he had come…and had taken with him Evalie as was also his right. Sri had spread the tale.

And next morning when the light showed that the sun had risen over the peaks that girdled the Valley of the Mirage, we set forth—Evalie like a slim boy beside me.

We climbed until we were within the green mists. And here we bade farewell, Sri clinging to Evalie, kissing her hands and feet, weeping. And Dara clasped my shoulders:

"You will come back to us, Dwayanu? We will be waiting!"

It was like the echo of the Uighur captain's voice—long and long ago…

I turned and began to climb, Evalie following. I thought that so might Euridice have followed her lover up from the Land of Shades in another long and long ago.

The figures of Sri and the watching women became dim. They were hidden under the green mists…

I felt the bitter cold touch my face. I caught Evalie up in my arms—and climbed up and on—and staggered at last out into the sun–lit warmth of the slopes beyond the pit of the precipices.

The day dawned when we had won the long, hard fight for Evalie's life. Not easily was the grip of the Mirage loosed. We turned our faces to the South and set our feet upon the Southward trail.

And yet…

Ai! Lur—Witch–woman! I see you lying there, smiling with lips grown tender—the—white wolf's head upon your breast! And Dwayanu still lives within me!