He continued, “Awir thigo lan takloz…” He hesitated. That didn’t sound right. Alir wasn’t stopping him, though, and he could still feel the peculiar pressure of gathering magic. The spell to summon the goddess Piskor the Generous was almost complete. “Takloz wesfir yu! Your generosity is needed!” he finished. And then he sensed a presence in the room, and he closed his eyes quickly lest he be dazzled by Piskor’s radiance, but there was no burst of light, no increase in pressure, none of the feeling of being somehow both in the World and out of it simultaneously that ordinarily accompanied the presence of a deity. He opened his eyes, unsure whether he would see the empty room, or the majestic beauty of the goddess Piskor. Then he blinked once, and stared. He glanced up at his mistress, but she, too, was staring. Someone had appeared, but he was definitely not Piskor.
