3.

Loki, too, kept his own counsel. He was jealous of Ishnu, who did not fear death. Loki feared death, because he could not control its outcome, and Loki feared anything he could not control.

Loki was even more jealous of Tanu, for Tanu spoke of controlling energy, and energy meant power. Loki was not conscious of these feelings, but they festered in his soul. If Tanu learned to control the energies that rose from the heart of the world, he would have more power, and this would mean that Loki would have less. This Loki could not abide. Without conscious thought, he determined to stay close to Tanu next cycle, either to thwart his efforts to gain power, or to somehow wrest the power from him.

But that was for next cycle. Now Loki's sacred duty was to complete the records of this cycle for the archives while life was yet in him. Loki's eyes swept slowly over the panorama of graven murals on the walls of the council chamber as he contemplated this task. As always, he was filled with pride at the sweep of history recorded in eternal stone by the work of his clansmen. Other lords had their duties, but none was more important than his, for it was the precious archives, and the murals everywhere that interpreted them, that kept the memories of the race alive while they slept, and made it possible for their culture to be revived with them when they returned once more from the realms of death.

Over the time remaining, Loki and his helpers painstakingly engraved on living rock or plates of enduring gold the final chapters of the history of this cycle. All the details of life, all the social contracts and cultural nuances that established and determined the relative place and merit of every member of the populace, were recorded so nothing would be lost and life could be resumed as before by those who arose next cycle.

Loki's clan had long ago been appointed to this task, partly because by their constitution they remained physically active longer than most of the others when the dream time approached. They made the rounds of the many chambers, collecting final details for the public record from those whose withering bodies were too nearly immobile for them to bring their entries to the archivists. Some they found already rigid with the death sleep. Others they found laboriously using their last energies to complete their personal memoirs, the reminders they would review upon reviving.

Loki himself visited the chamber of Lord Ishnu. He found him already still, lying on his bier, stiffened with the cold sleep of death. He wondered if this time Ishnu might not return, might find the release he often spoke of. Loki looked around the chamber. Such a long time, the dream time. So many things that might occur to keep one from reviving. But his mind retreated from this thought. Whatever might happen to Ishnu could happen to Loki as well, and Loki could not allow himself to contemplate that. A tremor of fear passed over him as he hastened from Ishnu's chamber, but then the discomforting thought quickly faded.

Finally all was done and Loki, weary and alone, body aching from the ever-deepening cold, made a last check of his personal records and laid down himself to let the dream time take him.