And at night, while the others slept, I stood watch — alone with my thoughts.

The shock of the battles and their aftermath was wearing away. I began to feel what had registered on my conscious mind, but not yet penetrated to my inner self. I saw Lissa’s goodhearted grin as she handled her deadly cargo of explosives, as innocent as a child when she spoke of them and what they could do. And I saw the exultant look on her face, eyes wide and mouth agape with a scream of triumph, as she rushed the enemy with those live grenades in her hands.

I stared up at the stars, glittering coldly in this Ice Age night, and began to realize that Ormazd never intended that these soldiers would survive their battle. They were put here to defeat Ahriman’s people, to annihilate them, and once that task was done, they were meant to self-destruct, to die here in the cold darkness, their purpose accomplished, their value reduced to zero.

“Ormazd,” I muttered to the silent, grave stars, “wherever you are, whoever you are, I offer you this vow: I will find Ahriman for you, and I will kill him if I can. But, in exchange, I am going to take these people to a place where there is no snow, where they can survive and live like decent human beings. And I will do that first, before I seek out Ahriman.”

“You bargain with your creator?”

I turned to see Adena smiling at me. “I can’t leave these people here to die,” I said. “Can you?”

“If it’s necessary,” she said.

“But it’s not. We can take them south, to a land they can live in. I can show them how to survive.”

Her smile broadened. “You have already shown them so much. Their children will create legends about you, Orion. You will become a god yourself. Is that what you want?”

“I want you,” I said, “in a land and a time where we can live together in peace.”

“For how long?”

“For a lifetime,” I replied.

“And then?”

I shrugged. She was not teasing me. Her smile was not one of amusement.

“Orion,” said Adena, “when you can live beyond death, you must try to see further than a single lifetime.”

“But I won’t live beyond my next death.” I knew. “Ormazd won’t revive me once I’ve killed Ahriman.”

Her gray eyes fixed on mine, pulled me to her. “Do you think, my beloved, that I would want to face eternity without you?”

“Then what…”

“I will see that you survive death. And if Ormazd prevents me from doing so, then I will live your one lifetime with you and die with you at the end of it, gladly.”

“I can’t ask you to give up…”

She placed a finger on my lips, silencing me. “You have not asked me. You did not need to ask. I make my own decisions.”

I took her in my arms and kissed her as if we would never be able to touch each other again, as if this night were the last night of the world, as if the stars were blinking out forever.

“Now lead them, Orion my love,” she whispered. “Lead them to a land where they can live in peace.”

The following morning we started our long trek southward, Kedar and the two other wounded forcing us to move slowly across the glittering fields of snow. No animals attacked us. If Ahriman were nearby, he did not show his presence in any way.

We became a band of primitive hunters, stalking game for food and furs. Piece by piece we discarded our useless equipment, replacing laser pistols with wooden spears, plastic armor with the hides of foxes, hares, and mountain goats.

Southward we trekked, away from the snow and ice. Within a week we found an open stream, gurgling toward the southwest, its glacier-fed water as cold as the dark side of the moon. We followed the stream through hilly, wooded country. The snow grew thinner on the ground, the sun brighter, the air warmer.

One of the wounded died, and we buried her in the bank of that unnamed stream. Kedar grew stronger, though, and we made better time despite his limp.

At last we entered a land of softly rolling hills, covered with grass, teeming with game. Trees tossed their leafy branches in the warm breeze. Huge, lumbering beasts trumpeted at us from the undulating horizon — mammoths, I guessed, from their size and their trunks.

I had no idea where we were, but we found a large, dry cave and made it our own. The ten of us had become quite skilled at survival by now. The men set off to catch meat; the women began gathering shoots and berries from the plants that grew in profusion all around us.

“We can stay here awhile,” I said as I started a fire. “This might be a good place to stay.”

Adena sat beside me and stared into the crackling flames. The sun was low in the west and the heat from the fire felt good, comforting.

“Now you can begin to search for Ahriman again,” she said, without turning her head from the flames.

I nodded wordlessly.

“Do you think he’s far from here?” she asked.

“No. He’s near us, I’m sure. He still wants to exterminate us. He hasn’t given up, not yet.”

“When will you leave?”

I squinted up at the setting sun. Thick clouds were gathering in the sky, turning the sunset into a blaze of reds and golds and violets.

“Tomorrow,” I answered, “unless there’s a storm.”

Adena smiled and leaned her head against my shoulder. “I’ll pray for rain.”

CHAPTER 41

It did begin to rain. As darkness fell and the men came straggling back to the cave, a strong wind arose and thunder boomed across the sky. Kedar, the last of the hunters to return, limped sullenly into the cave, wet to the skin, his hair plastered down over his head, grumbling to himself.

As we feasted on rabbit and woodchuck, the men began talking about the bigger game they had seen farther downstream — antelope and bison, from the sound of their descriptions. And, of course, there were mammoths and horses and all sorts of other animals abounding in this Ice Age landscape. I told them as much about them as I could, knowing that I would be leaving them soon.

“And there are wolves out there, too,” said Kedar. “I saw a pair of them as I was heading back, in the rain.”

“There must be bears, too.”

“They won’t bother us here in this cave as long as we have a good fire going,” I said.

“Unless the brutes control them.”

“There’s only one brute left,” I said to them as we sat around the fire. Their faces, lit by the flickering flames, were smeared with dirt and dinner. “And I’m going after him, as soon as the storm ends.”

For a moment no one said a word. Then Kedar began to talk about going out after antelope.

I glanced at Adena and let them make their plans. Already they were more concerned with their bellies than with continuing their war.

The storm grew in fury as the night wore on, its raging wind slashing into the cave, driving raw wet coldness and rain that nearly drenched our fire. We grabbed up burning firebrands and moved farther back into the cave, beyond the reach of the rain.

Thunder racked the night, and lightning flashed out in the darkness. The others tried to sleep on the cold rock floor, but something kept me staring out into the night, into the storm.

Ahriman, I realized. He is here. He is reaching for us. This is his storm, his doing.

Adena was stretched out on the ground, sound asleep. I smiled at her, my sleeping goddess who had taken on human form. Her breath was slow and regular, her beautiful face even more exquisite in repose. I wondered how she could make the transition to being so completely human. I wondered how Ahriman could make the transition to being superhuman.

He must have started life just like any other of his kind. Even now, here in this time and place, he had shown no evidence of superhuman powers. In other eras he had whisked himself — and me — through space-time as easily as a man steps through an open doorway. How did he acquire those powers?