| listen to the wine rattle inside him, you realize he is dying. Not possible. He is human, but nevertheless. This must be a gambit, a new stratagem in the game. You are -- you say. Enough, the Stranger retorts. Let's drink. His coughs intensify in violence, the gasp preceding each cough growing longer and longer, as if he is struggling for his last bit of oxygen. You have so many unanswered questions, everything in this life has been distilled to the moonlike face before you. But it would be such a surrender of pride to ask him now. Paralyzed, you can only watch as the Stranger lies down by the fire, muttering Stop fussing, stop fussing, the last drops of wine coursing down his chin. What now? you ask yourself. What happens if he goes, and does not return? Like a child, you are seized with the  | Lin Page 20 desire to flee, even as the Stranger reaches out to pat your shoulder. I remember when I was a young man, the Stranger says. His lips barely move -- the words are issuing forth from his throat, like a command-ment. I was always alone on nights like this, and it was good. You could hear the Heavens opening up, you could see the grass flash with the lightning, like it was all bursting with elec-tricity. And then I would see you run through this valley, never stopping, so fast that not even the rain could touch you. These were in the days when kings desired your flesh, your blood, when people knew about such things. So you always ran, and then when you turned to attack, and your hunters cowered at the sight of you, this giant magnificent thing in the rain … ***  | |
