If I Pay Thee Not In Gold

• Chapter 16

Xylina wrestled with her thoughts and her doubts all the next day, and the day after. Ware did not approach her once in all that time, except in Faro's company. In that, he showed extraordinary sensitivity, for she was able to keep up a calm front with him when there were others present, but she might not have been able to do so had he approached her alone. The men did not seem to notice her preoccupation, or if they did, perhaps they put it down to the fact that she was tired from purely physical exertion. Pattée, too, found the walking fatiguing, so that it was easy for the men to dismiss Xylina's distraction as that. It helped that the terrain they crossed required little in the way of thought, and that the men had no real need of leadership at the moment, for all her attention was focused inward.

No one spoke to her unless it was absolutely necessary, a precaution urged by Ware, who feared that voices would carry for some distance out on these plains. She could have been completely alone, out in the sea of grass, and the "solitude" helped her concentration. Nothing threatened them, and there was nothing much to distract her, so she was able to examine everything as dispassionately as was possible under the circumstances. And although it was difficult to set her emotions aside and try to consider every aspect to the situation, she had long practice in reducing a problem to its component parts and dealing with them one at a time. That discipline helped her here, as well.

So much time for concentration enabled her to set her thoughts and strengthen her resolve before she approached Ware a second time. She made certain that she had weighed all her options, and there were many. She did not want him to be able to say that she had not considered every possible aspect and complication before she decided on a course of action.

For after all, whatever decision she made, it would be for life.

One possibility was simply to go on as before. She might even be able to say with complete justification that her debt had been discharged; she had, after all, offered Ware what he wanted. That he had not accepted had no real bearing on the situation as read that way. She could be considered legally free of the debt, since he had not immediately accepted her offer-although she would not herself, in all honor, consider herself free. Still, there were those who would.

But the fact was that she could pretend that none of this had happened-that she had not even made her offer. She could complete this quest and discharge her debt with true gold, just as she had always planned. And she would be free of him, and of this disturbing emotion of love.

Well, no. She would never really be free of it. She would always want him, and knowing that he wanted her would be sheerest torture. She could never really spend the rest of her life alone. Not now.

The next alternative was to wait, as he said, until they got back to Mazonia and he could hunt for a suitable male. If they waited until they returned home, and together they could scour the slave-markets, looking for someone with a compatible personality....

But that did not seem practical. It did seem very, very cold-blooded; as if they were looking for a pet dog, or a nice goose to roast. So what else was there?

He had made some hints, once or twice, that there might be a man he had already considered for such a-liaison. Perhaps he did not realize that he had let such a thing slip, but Xylina had heard the tone of his voice, and she had a shrewd notion what it meant. After all, although Ware was male, he must have had a great deal of experience in knowing what "Wara" would find attractive; really, in many ways, these things would be the same for either of his aspects, incubus or succubus. In some ways he might always be looking for potential mates, on the chance that he would be able to find a matching pair.

And unless she was greatly mistaken, Ware had said that he not only was born in this region, but that he continued to visit. Putting two and two together was no great feat... the man surely existed, and must be alive and living in this very realm.

And that was what finally decided her. As Ware was no doubt already aware, the chance of finding a "matching male" for Xylina was very slim. The chances of finding two such were much smaller. Why take a chance that there might be another of sufficient intelligence and independence?

She decided at that moment that if such a man already existed, Ware must go to see if he could persuade that man to join them. Or rather-Wara must. That night, she made some pretense of bringing him something as he stood his watch, and once they were out of earshot of the other men, she put her proposal to him. Or rather, her supposition that this mysterious "perfect" male existed and was in this very realm.

She walked alongside him under the stars, keeping her voice pitched low so that it would not carry. The night air was cool, and insects sang in the grasses all around them. It would be a perfect night to share their love for the first time-if what she had guessed proved to be the truth. "The other night, you kept starting to say something about a-a man for Wara, and stopped before you got very far," she said, feeling her skin turning so hot she was surprised she didn't glow like a fire-coal. Now that she had come to this point, she was rather surprised at how embarrassed she felt about it all. "What was it that you didn't say? Is there a man you were thinking of somewhere out here? In this realm? I know you said before that you were born here and that you visited here fairly often; it seemed to me that if you were here a great deal you might have found this-this man who is a match for your succubus side."

He did not reply for a long moment, but when he did, his voice was full of surprise. "Just when I think that I know all there is about you, Xylina, you amaze me again. I had not thought I had revealed that. Either I am far more transparent than I had thought, or you are more observant. On the whole, I am inclined to think it is the latter."

"Well?" she persisted, now feeling her very ears afire. "Is there such a man? And is he within reasonable distance of us? Would he consent to join us?"

Another long silence, while off in the distance some sort of dog-pack howled at the full moon above them. It was a very mournful sound, and it made the hair on the back of her neck rise.

"Yes, there is someone who might be suitable," he said at last. "I have known him for several years, and he knows what I am, and my dual nature. People in this realm are more familiar with what a demon is, and what their natures are. He is a close friend, or as close a friend as a demon may have and not be a lover. And I think he may have considered this kind of a liaison himself, with me. The last time I saw him, he said something that was half in jest and half in earnest-that while he loved me as a dear male friend, he could love me better as a female friend, and he would not be loathe to do so."

Xylina digested that for a moment. "That sounds promising," she ventured. "In fact, that sounds better than I had thought. Is he far from here? Could you reach him by foot-travel?"

"Several days' journey and all in the wrong direction," Ware said ruefully. "Although I will grant you that I can probably dematerialize and steal some kind of mount before I have to go too far afoot. But there are other considerations. For one thing, I have not seen him for over a year. Many things could have changed in his life. He could have changed his mind. He could have found a mortal he loved and married. He could even have died; this is a violent realm, and that is quite likely, in fact. He was not the oldest son, but the oldest might have died, forcing him to consider the family before he considers his own desires."

"But if none of these have happened-what prevents you from offering him what you offered me?" she replied, stiffly. It was very difficult for her even to say the words, yet she did not want Ware to know that. She did not want to share him. She knew that. But if sharing him was the only way she could have him, then she would.

"Nothing," Ware admitted. "Nothing. Only..."

"Then go and find him, Ware!" she said, keeping herself from shouting by an act of great self-discipline. "Go and find him and bring him back here! Why should we wait forever to find a male, when there is one that you already want right here? That makes no sense at all!"

"I will have to first love you," he warned. "I will have to make the change, then go to him in female form, or he might not believe the offer is genuine. It will take time- even if I dematerialize, I cannot fly, I must move as any ordinary being can, even if I can steal a mount-it would still be better to wait until we have returned home, and we can look in the slave markets together. Such a male would be subservient to you, and a male from this realm never would be. You might not find him to your liking, even though he is to mine."

But now she burned with a deeper emotion than embarrassment. "No," she said firmly. "I may die tomorrow-or the next day, or on the way back. Perhaps you are immortal, but I am not, and I do not wish to waste a single hour. And I do wish to have your love before another hour is over! Share love with me now, and go and find this man of yours-"

"Thesius," Ware interjected. "His name is Thesius. And he is very, very like you." He smiled. "Just as stubborn and willful."

"This Thesius of yours, then." She raised her head and looked at him, challengingly. If he was going to call her "stubborn" and "willful," he was going to find out just how stubborn she really was! "If you have not changed your mind, then I will be in my tent. And Faro will not be there; I will send him elsewhere, so you need not fear betraying our secret even to him."

Without waiting for a reply, she turned and walked back to her tent, her back stiff, and her neck aching with the tension she tried not to show. He said nothing; she reached the circle of the camp and eventually the door of her tent without knowing whether he would come to her.

But she unbraided her hair, conjured jasmine scent and soft, silken sheets, and waited for him by the light of a single glowstone, aching with need and anticipation. She felt as tight as a bowstring, and jumped at every little sound, thinking that he had come. Half the time she burned for him, certain that he was going to arrive at any moment, and half the time she was quite sure that he was not going to come at all.

But in the end, he appeared with no sound whatsoever, materializing just as he had in her tiny office so many months ago. He was simply there, standing beside her bed of soft pillowy shapes and silken sheets, staring down at her with his own need naked in his eyes. Very discreet of him, she thought absently. And then, as he sank down beside her, there was no room for thought at all.

Xylina woke as the sun peeked over the horizon, and the first birds began to sing out in the grasslands. The red light of dawn was not what woke her; it was the stirring of the body in the bed beside her. But as was her habit since beginning this quest, she woke instantly, and so he-no,she -was not able to slip out without her knowing. In fact, she had not even awakened when Xylina herself woke.

Her eyes widened with amazement, as the lovely eyes opened and looked deeply into hers from beneath a tangled tumble of shoulder-length black hair.

"So," said a gentle, husky soprano voice, a voice with just a hint of chagrin in it, "you have caught me in my other guise. I had not intended for you to see this just yet."

It was quite obvious why Ware had not even bothered to mention the possibility of assuming a masculine disguise when discussing how his alternate form must vanish. Tales of women posing as men to infiltrate the enemy were legion among the Mazonites, but this woman could never pull such a ruse off with any kind of success-not unless the men in question were blind and never touched her. There would be no way in which Wara could be disguised as a man. She was, in every way, a dark, exotic copy of Xylina; full-breasted, small-waisted, with long, slender legs, a sinuous curve of spine and hip, and a graceful neck that could bring only the adjective "swan-like" to mind. If Xylina had not known that this was Ware, she would never have guessed it-although she would have assumed that Wara was some land of relative. If demons had relatives. The eyes remained the same, the strange, wine-red eyes with their golden flecks-looking at her with wry amusement from a feminized version of Ware's face. But no amount of binding or padding was going to make the succubus look like Ware.

"So I see," Xylina replied, and chuckled a little, despite her disappointment at discovering that some miracle had not saved them from their plight. "You are really quite pretty as a girl. Although the Mazonites wouldnot approve of the way you look, I fear."

"No more than they approve of you, Xylina," Wara said, tossing her hair back, and smiling. "You and I could have been born sisters; we are certainly a match in looks." She laughed as if at some secret joke, and then let Xylina in on it. "If circumstances were different, and we were not in such haste-or if you were not the woman I love, but some friend-I could wish that you and I could stay this way for at least a little time. We could cut quite a figure among the swains of the Lgondian city-state, for instance." Her eyes twinkled with flirtatious amusement. "It would be great sport, and a kind I think you might enjoy, once you got used to it. In fact, we would, between the two of us, break every male heart in the city."

"Well I, for one, am glad we are not going to remain in this awkward set of circumstances," Xylina replied with a touch of acidity. "After last night, and sharing my bed with you, I have to say that I prefer to see Wara as little as possible!"

Wara tossed her head back and laughed throatily, and Xylina found herself oddly liking the demon all the more for being female. It was, as Wara had said, rather like having an unexpected sister-she had sometimes wished for such a sister, in the long-gone days of her childhood. Wara was as attractive in her own way as Ware was. In fact, she could not imagine how any mere male could resist the succubus.

But she would rather have Ware, she thought stubbornly. No matter how attractive Wara was, she wanted and needed Ware. And the sooner he returned, the better pleased she would be.

"I can understand that completely," Wara replied, "and I sympathize. So, I suspect that I had better go, before you either murder me with impatience, or Faro comes to see who is whispering to you in your tent."

Xylina nodded, and impulsively leaned over to kiss Wara. "Return to me quickly," she said, blushing.

Wara nodded, then winked. "And male ," she said, before she faded out.

And once again, Xylina was alone.

She told the others that Ware was scouting ahead; she was not certain that they believed her when she made up some tale about his going in dematerialized form to try to find some kind of help for them among people he knew here, but they seemed to accept his absence as unquestioningly as they had his presence, and that was all that mattered. So long as no one suspected what had really happened, it did not matter what the men thought of Ware's absence. Even if they suspected that he had deserted, his return would eventually disabuse them of that notion.

She felt horribly alone and uncertain once he was gone, although she did her best not to show it. For the first time she was without Ware's advice, and she had not realized until that moment how much she had come to depend on that advice. It was something she was going to have to adapt to, and quickly.

But more, much more than she had come to depend on his advice, she realized she had come to depend on his company. That was far harder to adapt to. The men were useless when it came to conversation; they might well be very intelligent and have varied interests, but they clearly felt inhibited in her presence. Faro was no substitute, for his conversation was limited when it came to discussing anything having to do with the Mazonites. He hated them so much that there was nothing he could find that was admirable about them.

And that was a pity, for although the Mazonites had many faults, they also had many virtues, particularly when it came to martial matters. Ware had been able to advise her on how best to handle the men-who were, after all, trained in the Mazonite-army way of doing things when it came to any kind of organized defenses and moving in hostile territory. As one of the men had once said, dryly, there were three ways of doing things: "the right way, the wrong way, and the army way." When Ware had advised her to deviate from the things that were ingrained in their thinking, he had also been able to give her the best way to explain the situation to them in terms that they would understand and agree with. Faro, who had not had Mazonite military training at all, could not. His training had been for the arena, a rather different matter. Arena fighters were always single, trusting no one. She had found that, on the whole, it was better to explain things to the men and then give them their orders; it made it seem as if she was being something other than arbitrary. Perhaps that would not have worked in the army, but this was not the army, and she was not a trained commander.

Still, she managed to muddle through, finding ways to explain why they were camping in low areas rather than on the high ground, and why it was best for the scouts to keep below the level of the grass when checking over the top of a ridge. She made some mistakes-but they managed to pass an entire week, and come out of the grasslands into more wooded country.

They also managed to avoid some obvious trouble- three separate sets of armed men, all looking for something. Xylina did not want to take the chance that these hunters might be hunting for her and her men.

They were all strange in one way or another. One of the sets was mounted on horses, one on bizarre lizard-like creatures, and one set of men rode on wheeled carts that propelled themselves across the grasslands by some kind of magic. It was the third set she feared the most, for she could not tell what kind of weapons they bore-they carried things that might have been crossbows and spears, but were of no make she recognized. Perhaps only Ware would have known what such weaponry could do, but she was not going to find out the hard way.

Her nights were tortured, filled with longing; her body ached with needs newly-discovered. And deep in the lonely darkness, she found herself wondering if Ware was ever going to return. Perhaps he had deserted. Perhaps this Thesius had found a mate-and had offered Ware a place in that household. Perhaps he had found a woman among Thesius's people who suited him better than Xylina. After all, his first mate had been from these folk.

Finally they made their first camp under cover of trees. And it was there that Ware found them.

She was tending to the dinner, under the direction of Horn, when she heard the sentry challenge someone and heard a longed-for, heartbreakingly familiar voice answering. She managed to keep from revealing everything that had happened between them by not impulsively jumping to her feet and flinging herself at him. That would have been incredibly stupid as well as obvious. Just at the moment, although she didn't particularly care that the Queen might find out about all this, she had another consideration. This was something that had occurred to her in one of the few moments that she was certain Ware would return. If the men discovered that she was a demon-lover, they might refuse to follow her. That would not only doom the expedition, it would doom her as well, unless this Thesius, if Ware returned with him, could be persuaded to bring her to his people.

So she waited until Horn's exclamation of greeting told her that Ware was in sight before looking up with a smile she hoped would not be read too clearly by any of the men. It was a smile of welcome, warm and happy, but not too warm, and not too promising. Ware and his escort came threading their way out of the shadows beneath the trees, and into the circle of light from the fire.

Ware looked-as he always looked, with the sole exception that he was dressed in better clothing than he had worn since the mage-storm. Even at the worst of times, he had never seemed tired or stressed for very long. But there was one surprise. He was leading a string of seven horses, each of them with a pack up behind the saddle. Beside him was another man, a stranger, who led seven more. Was this-?

"Xylina, this is my old friend Thesius," Ware said carefully. Carefully enough that she knew, instantly, that she was expected to read between the lines. "Everything was exactly as I had hoped, and he agreed to help us, and to come with us to guide us, all the way home if need be."

The man moved further into the light-and Xylina bit her lip. He was nothing like a Mazonite male. Now she realized why Ware had thought she might have trouble with that particular concept. There was nothing subservient about him; he gazed at her directly and proudly, exactly as another Mazonite would have, and she knew that he was going to judge her as a peer, and not as a mistress.

She stood up, slowly, very conscious of the fact that her hair was coming undone, that she was sweaty from the long walk and had not had a chance to bathe, that her nails had dirt under them, and that there was soot on the side of her nose from the fire. The stranger was more than immaculately well-groomed and impeccably, though strangely, attired-he was physically perfect.

He was as blond as she, with large, gray eyes, a chiseled face, and a slender but muscular build, like that of a dancer or runner. From his clothing and the jewels on the hilt of his sword and ornamenting his collar, he was wealthy as well. He watched her, measuringly, and she flushed. Her automatic reaction, which she stifled, was to punish him for insolence. Never in her life had a mere man looked at her that way. But this was no "mere" man, it was a free man, and therein lay the difference. Not a freedman; that was another distinction that had suddenly become critical. This was something she was going to have to keep in mind.

She pulled herself up to her full height, and looked him straight in the eye. "I am the leader of this expedition," she said proudly, matching him glance for glance. "Thank you for agreeing to help us."

He replied in some unknown tongue; Ware translated for both of them. "Thesius says to tell you that he was pleased to be able to aid his old friend in whatever way possible."

I can well imagine, she thought, unable to suppress a twinge of jealousy. Obviously, they had already shared love, since Ware was Ware , and not Wara. It occurred to her also that this Thesius could pass for her very own brother; they shared the same hair-color, the same body-type, and given Ware's exacting standards, he was probably well-spoken and well-educated. He might even be of some kind of noble birth.

Had Ware chosen her because she looked like Thesius? she wondered. Was he amused by the fact that they could be siblings? Was it really Thesius he had wanted all along, and was she only the means to get this man?

"We don't have a great deal, as I am sure Ware has told you," she said, trying to cover her uncomfortable thoughts as well as she could. "The mage-storm destroyed most of our supplies, but you are welcome to share our poor meal."

Ware translated, and again the man spoke. "He is simply saying what I was going to tell you," Ware said. "That he has brought mounts and supplies for us, and that he thanks you for your ready hospitality. He also-ah-says that he brought some gifts especially for you, clothing and things, and that if you would like to make use of them..." Ware's voice trailed off, somewhat embarrassed. "He's trying to be kind, Xylina. He is not intending to insult you, but you do look as if-"

"As if I've been walking across the hills for several days without a bath or a change of clothing; thank you, Ware, I was quite aware of that," she replied sharply, then took a deep breath and softened her tone, although she could not bring herself to apologize. "Tell him that I appreciate his generosity and that I would be very glad to get out of these things and into something clean."

The man smiled when Ware translated, and Ware dropped his eyes, though from embarrassment or amusement, Xylina could not say. "Thesius says that your things are on the last horse in his string, and that someone of my age and experience should have found a more graceful way of telling you of his gifts."

"You can tell him that I agree!" she snapped, considerably irritated now as well as embarrassed-but she also went straight to the indicated horse and availed herself of the clean clothing she found in its pack. It was not, as she had feared, a completely impractical dress-some kind of fancy, long-skirted robe unsuitable for travel or fighting. It was, in fact, a slightly feminized version of the trousers and shirt that Thesius himself wore, right down to the jeweled collar-studs.

Now they really would look like brother and sister, she thought, with dismay. But she took the clothing anyway, and leaving Horn in charge of the meal, went off to conjure herself soap and water to make herself presentable.

When she returned, the others had already started the meal without her. To her continued chagrin, Thesius fit comfortably in with the rest of the men, despite a lack of common language. When she rejoined them, taking her place as unobtrusively as possible, she could not help but notice an exchange of glances between Ware and Thesius, glances that said more than words. And although she put on a cheerful face, her resentment-and yes, jealousy-smoldered just below the surface.

That resentment and jealousy did not abate as they drew nearer their goal, aided considerably by the horses that Thesius had brought with him. Whenever she looked at Thesius, instead of remembering what she and Ware had shared the night before, she kept recalling that Wara had risen immediately from her bed and gone to him. She kept wondering how much Ware cared for her, and how much he cared because she looked like Thesius. She knew that he had to do it, because Wara could not afford to show her face by day, but her emotion refused to be reconciled. Whenever he left her bed, she tortured herself with doubts; whenever he came back she felt guilty about doubting him. She tried to drown both emotions in passion, and did not succeed. One night, after persuading him to return when he had made the change back to male, she sent him shuttling back and forth for half the night-and it did not help that Thesius seemed perfectly capable of keeping up with her in this undeclared contest.

Faro had it all figured out, of course, and one of the few things helping her to keep a civil "public" face on all of this was his tacit protection of all three of them from discovery.

When she asked him how he had known, he simply shrugged; she could only assume that Ware must have told him about the changing-and that in itself was a cause for resentment, since Ware seemed to be trusting everyone with this "secret nature" of his, and yet he had not trusted her until she forced the revelation out of him.

Things could not have gone on in this way much longer-but the fates had some other surprise in store for them: one that made such trivialities superfluous.

The woodlands gave way to a flat country, hot and humid, covered with scrub plants and bordered on one side by a salt sea of some kind with a flat, soft sand beach. There was not a great deal of shade, and all the vegetation was bent in a perpetual slant away from the coast. Xylina did not like the look of this country; aside from the fact that it was the most boring place she'd yet seen, it was too open, and there were no good places for defense. There weren't even hills to vary the countryside, they were plagued by swarms of biting insects which made the horses miserable, and the sticky heat made all of them irritable.

The insects were particularly hard on the horses, and nothing seemed to keep them off. Xylina tried to conjure repulsive oil, but it repulsed the horses more than the flies. As a result, they were paying more attention to their restive mounts and the fetid heat than to keeping quiet and to "blending" with their surroundings-and that was when an entirely new enemy struck.

A huge metallic-black creature, droning like some kind of giant insect, swooped down out of the sun straight at their column. As the thing plunged down to within a wagons length of Xylina, she saw that it had a rider that was guiding its motions. It actually did them no harm-

But it spooked the horses, who began to rear and shy, their eyes rolling wildly.

The men and Pattée were unused to riding, and lost all control of the beasts. The monster rose into the sky again, turned, and came back for a second pass. That was when the horses panicked completely, and bolted, bucking and kicking.

Xylina, Faro, Ware, and Thesius managed to keep their horses running in the same direction, but the same was not true of the rest. Most of the men were thrown immediately; some clung to the backs of animals that ran blindly for whatever direction the monster was not .

Xylina clung to the reins and saddle of her horse, trying, not to stop it, but to keep it going in the same direction as Ware's-and fortunately, Faro was doing the same. She looked back over her shoulder just once-and that was when she realized that the best thing she could do would be to keep her frightened animal running.

For the monster in the air was herding those horses that still had men riding them; herding them towards the beach, where they would quickly tire, trying to gallop in the surf and soft sand. And as for the men who had been thrown-there were strangers dressed in brown uniforms, armed, and helmeted, who were rounding them up and making them prisoners. There were many more of these strangers than there were of Xylina's men, and she realized that the most she could hope for would be to escape without being captured herself.

Thesius looked back as well, and he must have made the same conclusion, for he suddenly began urging his horse to greater speed, and took over the lead from Ware. Since he seemed to know where he was going, Xylina tried to get her horse to follow his. It was quite willing, and she concentrated on clinging to her saddle.

The strangers who were taking the others prisoner did not seem inclined to follow. They disappeared into the distance, and the bushes and scrubby trees intervened.

The horses galloped until their flanks streamed foamy sweat and their breath came in huge, painful gasps. Thesius pulled his horse up to a walk; the rest slowed completely on their own. He spoke quickly and quietly to Ware, pointing in the direction of the mist that signaled a change in realms that lay just on the horizon, and Ware nodded, then turned to Xylina.

"Thesius recognized those soldiers; they are slavers, and they are not likely to follow us this far, for they are only concerned with gathering as many slaves as they can with as little effort as possible. They will be satisfied with the men and horses that they have captured, and let us escape."

Xylina pushed her sodden hair back from her forehead. She was nearly as tired as her poor horse, for it had taken all her strength to stay with him on the wild ride. "I am about to say something that might sound very callous-" she replied, hesitantly. "Are these people known for mistreatment of those they take?"

Ware questioned Thesius, who only shook his head. Xylina sighed. "Then I see no point in risking ourselves to free the men, since they are merely going from one set of mistresses to another."

Faro looked troubled. "You're not going to try to help them?"

She turned to him, hoping that he would understand this. "Faro, I am very sorry, but there are many more of those slave-catchers than there are of us-and I am not certain that my diminished ability to conjure is going to make that much of a difference in a case like this."

Faro shrugged. "Maybe you have a valid point, little mistress. The men might even be better off; who knows? They are certainly used to being enslaved."

Thesius listened avidly as Ware translated all this for him in an undertone, and he nodded vigorously when Faro concluded. He gabbled something else; Ware managed a dry chuckle.

"He said that most of them will likely be recruited to take slaves themselves, since they are versed in the use of arms-or they will become caravan guards for the slave-takers. Even Pattée evidently has skills they will value. So really, their roles are likely to take a reversal for the better, since they will find themselves to be the masters over women taken as slaves."

Xylina gave Thesius a black look for that little remark, but said nothing about it. Instead she asked Ware, "What was that he said when he pointed to the next realm?'

"That this is where the crystal shard is, and that the slavers will not follow us in there." Ware did not elaborate on that, and Xylina wondered if there had been more said than Ware had mentioned.

"Then let us go there as quickly as we can," Xylina said flatly.

Ware gave her a measuring look, and Thesius said something. This time Ware translated without being asked.

"He wants to know if you are certain that you wish to continue."

She gave that question sober consideration, as the sun burned down on them, and the horses plodded onward towards the border. The thought crossed her mind-as it had many times-that the Queen had certainly set herself up in a situation in which Adria could not lose and Xylina could not "win." Ware had told her, many times, that Xylina was the only Mazonite likely to make this mission a success; the Queen wanted this shard desperately, for it was her path, not only to immortality, but to immortal youth and to undefeatable power. If Xylina brought it back, the Queen would have all those things, and Xylina would no longer be any kind of threat.

And if Xylina died in the attempt, she would still be no threat. The Queen simply had to send her out, and wait, like a spider in her web. This mission was a stroke of genius, for the purposes of the Queen.

Even if Xylina turned back at any point, the Queen would win-since Xylina would still owe her debt to Ware, and the crown guarantee of that debt was contingent on Xylina's return with the shard . Xylina would face the same threats as before she left-give in to Ware (which would take her out of the running for the throne), go into debtors prison, or face exile. One of those options had already been fulfilled.

And now, there was really no way in which Xylina could possibly retreat. With all of her men and resources gone but Faro, Ware, and Thesius, it would be suicide to recross all that dangerous territory. It might not even be the same: deadly new lands might have take the place of those they had struggled through. Only one thing would make return possible: if Xylina possessed the shard, for its possession would magnify her own powers.

So, hopeless as the situation looked, she might as well go on. It was certainly no more hopeless than going back.

"Yes," she said flatly. "Let us go on."

As they crossed the misty border, the land changed abruptly, as it nearly always did. This time the sea remained, but instead of a land as flat as the back of her hand, hot, and oppressively humid, the countryside became mountainous, washed with a brisk, cool breeze, and with high cliffs facing the sea. The drop in temperature and humidity made her spirits rise, and the clouds of stinging flies that had bitten them and their horses with blithe impartiality deserted them. The tired horses raised their heads, and exhibited a little more energy. Faro looked less dour. Even the air, scented with pine, seemed livelier.

The horses were on another road: this time, a kind of well-defined track through the mountains. By the time they were ready to stop for the night, Ware looked about and told her that they were within striking distance of the shard-for once again, a realm had changed since a member of their party had last visited it. This time, the border between the realms had moved closer to the area where the shard was being kept.

Thesius located a cave for them to use as a shelter, rather than having Xylina conjure tents. He and Ware both seemed anxious that she not perform her conjurations so near the shard, and she was inclined to go along with that. It might well be that the inhabitants of this realm had some way of knowing when magic was being practiced, and there was no point in warning them. She hoped that prohibition would not be needed when actually taking the shard, or she would be in serious trouble.

All of them retained some of their journey-food; Xylina had suggested that they divide it up among all the men rather than keeping it together with Horn, and now she was glad she had done so. If Horn had kept the food, they would be now be spending a very hungry night.

So they built a conventional fire, with wood that Faro and Thesius gathered, and settled down to eat and confer. A vent at the back of the cave drew off the smoke from their fire, and the cave screened it from outside eyes, so they were relatively safe and quite cozy.

"Now," Ware said, after their initial hunger-pangs had been satisfied. "Here is what I know. The people who guard the crystal are quite well aware of its nature, and they also know that eventually the Mazonites will desire it. They are determined to guard it, for they fear correctly that possession of the shard will make the Mazonites more powerful. They fear that if your Queen has it, she will use its powers to enlarge the borders of Mazonia, by extending the area in which the magics that prevail are Mazonite conjuration and those used by demons."

Xylina nodded; Thesius did, too. That made her wonder if the young man understood more of her language than he had let on. Still, that did not matter at the moment-

Except that she was very glad that she had not said many of the things that had been on the tip of her tongue. At best, he would have formed a very unflattering opinion of her. At worst, she would have looked like a jealous fool.

"They keep it under heavy guard in a cave-not too surprising, since the folk this realm live in caves, and their philosophy is to make as little mark on the land as may be." Ware shrugged as she gave him an incredulous look. "This is their way; I do not pick quarrels with other folks' philosophies. Here is the problem: I can not take the shard, for it can only be handled by a mortal. Thesius and Faro may not touch it, for it will kill a man-recall that it 'wants' to be taken to the great crystal in Mazonia, and the only way for it to get there is to be taken by a woman."

Xylina nodded. "I remember that. So this magic has a kind of intelligence. Well, that means that I am the only person who can actually retrieve it. But since these people must know this, I would assume that they will be specifically watching for a woman, which will make it very hard for me to approach it."

Ware and Thesius both indicated agreement; Thesius looked pleased. "We can do reconnaissance, though, we men," Faro spoke up from the other side of the fire where he was arranging a pallet made of pine boughs for himself, "As men, we would be under no suspicion."

"That was my thought exactly," Ware said. "Two of us should go-two should remain. Xylina will have to remain, of course-"

"And I will stay with her," Faro replied. But Ware shook his head.

"No, for Thesius has been here before, and they might recognize him," Ware said, by way of explanation. "You are a stranger, and if they recognize me as a demon, they will know that I am no threat to the shard. And, to be brutally frank, Faro, you are a much better fighter than Thesius. If there is some kind of incident, you are more likely to be able to fight your way free than Thesius will."

Xylina cast a startled glance at the young man, who grimaced, then shrugged. Apparently this was true.

Now that she thought about it, she realized that she never had seen him use that sword he carried. "If that is the case, then I am afraid Ware is right," she said to Faro. "You are one of the best fighters I have ever seen, and I rather doubt that I am likely to get into any great trouble, hidden away in a cave while you two go off to scout the territory."

Faro flushed with pleasure at her praise. "If that is your will," was all he said, but she felt that he thought she had made the right decision.

"How long will this take?" she asked, assuming that it would be less than a day.

"A week, perhaps a little more," Ware replied with an offhand gesture. "Less than nothing compared to all the time it took to get here."

A week? More? Xylina hid her dismay, since she had already agreed to the plan, but she was considerably less than pleased. A week all alone with this-this man. A week without Ware.

On the other hand, if she was to be without Ware's company, so was he. Suddenly the prospect was not totally without its charms.

"Very well," she said. Then, with a meaningful look at Ware, she added, "In that case, we had best go to bed-and get some rest."

Faro rolled his eyes up heavenward, and Thesius did not-quite-hide a smirk. Ware only sighed.

It was quite a lively night.

As birds first greeted die dawn light, Faro and Ware set off on their journey. Thesius and Xylina watched them go, side by side, yet quite, quite separate. Finally, long after they were out of sight, she turned back into the cave. She was not looking forward to a week spent in this man's company: a silent week, since he could not even converse with her.

But then Thesius surprised her. "I have-" he began from behind her, and she whirled to face him, eyes wide with shock. He stood silhouetted against the light for a moment, then came down to the cave floor beside her.

"You can speak my-?" she asked, not completely pleased with this development.

"I have," he said carefully, "been learning. Your tongue, with the help of Wara."

I'll just bet you have, she thought cynically, and yet she could not help but be a little curious about him. After all, they were both Ware's lovers-and they knew nothing about each other. They had both made a lifelong commitment to their beloved, which meant to each other as well. It would be too much-far too much!-to say they were friends; still-

"I suppose we really ought to start talking," she said aloud, with a lifted brow. "Since I am going to have you around for the rest of my life."

He stiffened a little at her slightly imperious tone. "The opposite, I would have said. That I must learn to tolerate you. Not easy, that."

It was her turn to stiffen with resentment. Not easy to tolerate her? How dared he?

But the next moment, she realized precisely how he dared. He was not a slave. He was under no rules of behavior. They were complete equals.

And she did not like it at all.

But she was going to have to get used to it.

She sighed and shook her head. "Then we can begin by sharing the chores," she said aloud. "You know this place, and I do not.You find things to eat.I find wood."

He frowned. "Stronger, I-" he objected.

"You are physically stronger; I am magically stronger," she countered. "Since when does that have anything to do with collecting wood for a fire? There's no point in dragging entire trees in here!"

He looked rebellious, but nodded, grudgingly. She picked up a strap to carry the wood with, and left, without waiting to see what he would do.

When she returned, he was not there-which meant, she supposed, that he must be out looking for edibles or hunting. She made several trips-by now she had a good idea of how much wood a fire could burn over the course of a day and a night, and she was not minded to give him an opportunity to scoff if the wood ran out before daybreak. It was a pity that she could not risk conjuring wood-but it was far better to be safe. At least this was giving her conjuration an extended rest, which was a relief after the extremely heavy use of her magic during their journey.

When she thought she had gathered enough and a little to spare, she paused for a drink of clear water from the stream outside the cave, and to take a rest. She had pushed herself considerably, physically, working much harder at the wood-gathering than she really had needed to.

Because she was, by the fates, going to impress that independent, imperious creature, she realized. Against his will, if she had to! Huh. He would probably return with a handful of inedible mushrooms and a mess of weeds, and think he should be praised.

But when he did come back, shortly after noon, it was with the saddlebags from both their horses bulging at the seams. When he disgorged their contents, she had to admit to being impressed.

He had found edible tree-seeds, a double-handful of hard, tart berries, fresh watercress, some shelf-like fungi that smelled so delicious that her mouth watered, and four fat, ugly roots that he promised-via a few words and pantomime-would be very tasty when roasted in the ashes of the fire. She was almost ashamed to hand him the last of the hard journey-bread for lunch, although he did raise a surprised eyebrow at the amount of wood she had collected.

"Horses now," he said firmly, when they had gnawed their way through the rock-like biscuits. She sighed, but agreed.

They had stabled the horses in the rear of the cave, and that meant that the horses had left what horses always produced. Faro had gone to the trouble of dumping dry leaves and pine needles back there, which at least would make it easier to clean up. But still...

"Share horses?" she asked, more than half expecting an argument, and an insistence that she should be the one to do the cleaning. But, with a shrug of resignation, he nodded.

Together they cleaned the stabling area and left more of the bedding material for the horses to stand in. She started to haul the used bedding just out of smelling-range, but he shook his head, and gestured her to follow him. Admittedly curious, she did so-and found that he was dumping it all in another, smaller cave nearby. After a moment of thought, she saw that this made sense; if they threw the used bedding down the cave mouth, it would not be out in the open to attract insects and advertise their presence.

He indicated that he wished to water the horses while she pulled up grass to feed them. And while the former task seemed a great deal easier than the latter-

She didn't know anything-about the stupid beasts, she admitted to herself. He did. If they over-gorged themselves on water or tried to drown themselves, she wouldn't know what to do. So she agreed without an argument, which seemed to surprise him.

After that, they had nothing to do except improve their rather primitive beds and cook their dinner. Since he seemed to know what to do about food, she let him deal with the latter while she made up the former with something a bit softer than branches.

But long before true night fell, the tasks ran out and they found themselves facing each other over the fire, with no idea of what to say.

By now, Xylina's initial resentment had become a certain grudging fascination. One thing was sure: Thesius was a handsome young man, and on looks alone, she could see why Ware-Wara-had chosen him. But his actions this day had proven that there was something more there than mere looks, and now she was curious. She knew that the demon would not have chosen an ordinary man, any more than he had chosen an ordinary woman. Appearance was only part of it.

"What are you?" she asked. And at his puzzled frown, she elaborated. "What do you do in your home? What is your family?"

His expression of confusion faded, and he actually smiled slightly. "My family rulers are," he said-which confirmed her suspicion. He was a prince, or something similar. She nodded, and encouraged him to go on.

By the time they were both tired and ready to sleep, she had learned a hundred times as much about him as she had already known-which, admittedly, was not a great deal. His family was of some land of nobility or landowners; they were certainly very wealthy, and commanded what must have been a small kingdom of traders. This, of course, was how Ware had come to know him, since the demons were great traders themselves. Thesius was, however, a very junior child-she was a little confused as to how junior, but got the impression that there were more than a dozen siblings ahead of him, and a half-dozen younger than he. As a result, his "share" of the family wealth was fairly small, and his aspirations to power minimal. She gathered that he had welcomed Wara's proposition, because he truly loved Ware as a friend, so it was easy to make that love into something physical for Wara. Also because this would give him an opportunity to escape a stultifying and increasingly boring life at home. The fourteen horses he had brought with him were, in fact, his "dowry." He was used to wealth, but it was no this wealth.

She let him know (feeling a little cynical) that if they did make it back to Mazonia, he would not lack for wealth, since Ware was quite rich in his own right. But somewhat to her surprise, he made it quite clear that it did not matter. That he would have been perfectly willing to share a cave with Wara.

She thought that she surprised him a time or two, as he in his turn questioned her. For one thing, he was startled to learn that her origins, at least, were in a family almost as privileged as his own. For another, he was amazed to find out how well educated she was. She got the impression that he had thought she was little better than a peasant, and that Ware had chosen her mainly because she was so physically beautiful and intelligent, though unlettered.

He expressed sympathy, which seemed to be quite genuine, when she revealed that her mother was dead. She expressed envy, which was genuine, when he told her about his parents, and that the family was very much like the ideal of Mazonite families, save only that authority and responsibility were shared between father and mother.

By then, they were both exhausted, and ready for sleep; it seemed a positive note to end on, and Xylina, at least, retired to her much-more-comfortable bed feeling as if she might actually be able to live with this man without wanting to kill him once a day.

By the second day, she began to see some of what Ware saw in the man; by the third, she had acknowledged that their similarities went more than skin-deep. They were not only similar in looks and intelligence, they were similar in status and attitude. By the time she went to sleep on the night of the third day, she and Thesius were friends.

So things remained on the succeeding days; Thesius' command of the Mazonite tongue improved out of all recognition, and she actually began to learn his odd language. That opened the way to further communications, and she picked up something about his land as she taught him about Mazonia. Both of them assumed that Mazonia would be the end of their journey; it was, after all, Ware's home. It made sense to go there, rather than somewhere else.

She could certainly see why Thesius had been so eager to leave his home. The passions that drove his family, for increased trade and increased territory, were things she had seen in successful Mazonites and had never understood. And the customs! The Mazonites had at least one positive thing going for them, even Thesius agreed: they tried to keep pomp and senseless, ancient customs to a minimum. But Thesius' people made a fetish of ceremony.

He had confessed to a feeling of profound relief when he rode out of the tiny kingdom of Copera, and she could not blame him. Every moment of his time had been hedged about with some custom or other-most of which had no real meaning any more.

When he woke, he must immediately rise and go to the window to recite a child's rhyme to the rising sun. Then he would be given a "breakfast" consisting of a single slice of bread, a spoonful of jam, and a sprig of herb. He must fold the bread in half, crosswise, and eat it from one of the two longer points, then take the herb sprig and leave it precisely in the middle of the plate. Then recite yet another verse.

For every action of the day, there was a verse. For putting on clothing, for taking it off. For eating and for drinking. For greeting and departing. For seeing sunny weather or clouds. Food must be eaten in a certain order, clothing donned in a certain order, the body bathed in a certain order. Floors must always be swept from right to left. And so on, until the verses of retirement and sleep.

The customs of the court were even worse.

"I could never live there," she declared. He nodded in complete agreement.

"We are more slaves to our customs than you women have ever made your men," he replied, and she had to agree with him.

Finally, she made him a pledge: one that she had never expected to make to any man. That there would be neither mistress nor slave within the walls of their home. They would have to play the game for the sake of peace outside those walls, but it would be a game. And never, outside those walls, would she use the game to hurt or humiliate any man, much less the men that she knew and cared for.

She had changed; she knew that now. Men had never been faceless automata to her, but now she could see them as human and as equal as she herself was. She would never be able to go back to thinking of them as something less.

But then, something unexpected happened. From understanding why Thesius was desirable to Wara, she progressed until she became attracted to him.

Then she found him more than merely attractive. Of course she concealed her feeling, knowing it to be illicit. But it tormented her at night, in much the way her longing for Ware had, before she had finally capitulated.

The week passed, and still Ware and Faro did not return.

A week and a day. The attraction was stronger than ever. She found herself watching him covertly, thinking about that dancer's body. Wondering if he was as skilled in using that body as Ware was. She caught herself getting careless when it was her turn to wash, taking longer than she should, so that he might return on schedule and catch an accidental glimpse of her torso. Would she impress him as much as Wara had? She condemned herself, for she had never been a tease, but in the boredom her fancy ran rampant.

She found herself facing another question: what if Ware and Faro had been captured or killed? What if she and Thesius were on their own?

As the days stretched on, coming nearer to two weeks than one, she finally voiced that fear.

And Thesius was forced to admit that he, too, had been thinking of just that, and suffering shameful feelings. And she caught him watching her, covertly, with speculation in his eyes.

What had been a long, anxiety filled day became worse. Just about sunset, the weather turned. A high, cold wind came up, bringing with it clouds and rain. By the time the last light had left the sky, the rain had turned to sleet-and their clothing and few blankets were totally inadequate.

They layered on item after item, and still the cold penetrated to make them shiver. The wind kept stealing the heat from the fire, blowing straight into the cave and carrying the heat away through the vent that had been taking the smoke. They sat across from one another, shivering miserably, as the bitter cold penetrated into their bones.

She wanted to conjure warm blankets, but Thesius was clearly terrified that this would pinpoint their location to the enemy. "They always watch near the border," he said. "Always." So she shivered until she began to feel sick.

Finally Thesius looked across the fire into her eyes, and gestured. "There is no point in this," he said. "If we are together, we may as well share these blankets and the heat of our bodies, such as it is."

That made perfect sense, and at that moment, all she could think of was the prospect of getting warm. The very memory of warmth felt years away. She made her way around the fire, and joined him, adding her coverings to his, and clasping her body against his.

The difference was immediate. Warmth pooled between them; she relaxed and closed her eyes, feeling it ease the aches and tension from the cold.

For a long, long time, all she was aware of was the warmth, the blessed, blessed warmth. But then Thesius's arms tightened involuntarily around her, and she was aware of a different kind of warmth entirely. They were clothed, but that could so readily change. They were already so close, and there was such heat between them.

Her eyes flew open, and met his. There was no mistaking the need, and the passion, in his face.

It would be so easy ... so very easy. They shared so much, had so much in common-

"Maybe-just one kiss," she whispered. "That couldn't do any harm," he agreed huskily. Their faces slowly came together. They were so similar, in their backgrounds and their passion.

And they were both human. Ware would not even be able to protest, for Ware would be no more....

It was that which brought her to her senses, and she saw that he must have remembered the same thing at the same moment. Their lips, almost touching, halted. She shook her head, gently, and he nodded. They both knew that if the kiss did not destroy the demon, what would surely follow it would.

They remained chastely cradled in each others arms for the rest of the night, sharing no more than physical warmth. Finally, after a long, long, time, the wind died, and they slept.

Xylina dreamed she was Wara, clasping Thesius and exciting him to such a pitch of excitement that all of his willpower was crushed by his need. But even in her dream she had caution, and she woke-to find him waking similarly. "I thought you were-" he said, agonized, shuddering.

"I know." She turned her face away and pretended to ignore the desire she knew he suffered. Only in that manner could she suppress her own.

In the morning neither of them spoke about their near-catastrophe, but it was on Xylina's mind and she knew it must be on Thesius's. The air was still brisk and chill, but Xylina generated her warmth with exercise. That exercise also took some of the edge off her desire, although it did not remove it. Only the knowledge of how nearly they had murdered Ware did that.

While she was hauling in more firewood, she heard a hail, and looked up to see Ware and Faro-at last!- approaching up the trail to their cave. They looked tired, but satisfied.

Thesius was nowhere in sight, and Xylina did not want to wait for him. She dropped her firewood and ran, as fast as she could, all the way down the trail to the two returning explorers.

Ware dismounted, giving his horse's reins to Faro, and met her embrace with one of his own, caressing her comfortingly, as if he understood all her conflicting emotions. She did not weep, but she was very near tears.

"Come," he said gently, after a long, long time. "We were not gone all that long-"

"Oh, Ware," Xylina cried, half in laughter, and half in hysteria, "you will never know how glad I am to see you! It has been-the fear, the cold-"

She could not continue, but he seemed to understand everything she could not say.

"But you were true to me, both of you," he whispered comfortingly in her ear, "because otherwise I would not be here."

She could not tell him that this was exactly what she meant, but when she finally pulled away a little and looked into his eyes, she saw that he already knew.

He had known the risk he was taking, and he had trusted them both: trusted their honor, and their strength of spirit. Trusted them more than they had trusted themselves.