A bag for bread, and a bag for beef,

heard them stumbling up the slope, for he had managed to burrow his way in behind the overhanging snowdrift that sealed off the space beneath a projecting ledge just above the rim of the gully. An almost perfect place of concealment, but his leg betrayed him: in the probing light of his torch Andrea's sharp eyes caught the tiny trickle of blood seeping darkly through the surface of the snow. He was already unconscious when they uncovered him, from cold or exhaustion or the agony of his shattered leg: probably from all three. Back in the cave again, Mallory tried to pour some ouzothe fiery, breath-catching local spiritdown Ste vens's throat. He had a vague suspicion that this might be dangerousor perhaps it was only dangerous in cases of shock, his memory was confused on that pointbut it seemed better than nothing. Stevens gagged, spluttered and coughed most of it back up again, but some at least stayed down. With Andrea's help Mallory tightened the loosened splints on the leg, staunched the oozing blood, and spread below and above the boy every dry covering he could find in the cave. Then he sat back tiredly and fished out a cigarette from his waterproof case. There was nothing more he could do until Dusty Miller returned with Panayis from the village. He was pretty sure that there was nothing that Dusty could do for Stevens either. There was nothing anybody could do for him. Already Louki had a fire burning near the mouth of the cave, the old, tinder-dry wood blazing up in a fierce, crackling blaze with hardly a wisp of smoke. Almost at once its warmth began to spread throughout the cave, and the three men edged gratefully nearer. From half a dozen points in the roof thin, steadily-increasing streams of water from the melting snows above began to splash down on the gravelly floor beneath: with these, and with the heat of the blaze, the ground was soon a quagmire. But, especially to Mallory and Andrea, these discomforts were a small price to pay for the privilege of being warm for the first time in over thirty hours. Mallory felt the glow seep through him like a benison, felt his entire body relax, his eyelids grow heavy and drowsy. Back propped against the wall, he was just drifting off to sleep, still smoking that first cigarette, when there was a gust of wind, a sudden chilling flurry of snow and Brown was inside the cave, wearily slipping the transmitter straps from his shoulders. Lugubrious as ever, his tired eyes lit up momentarily at the sight of the fire. Blue-faced and shuddering with coldno joke, Mallory thought digital camera that uses mini cdr grimly, squatting motionless for half an hour on that bleak and frozen hillsidehe hunched down silently by the fire, dragged out the inevitable cigarette and gazed moodily into the flames, oblivious alike of the clouds of steam that almost immediately enveloped him, of the acrid smell of his singeing clothes. He looked utterly despondent. Mallory reached for a bottle, poured out some of the heated retsimomainland wine heavily reinforced with resinand passed it across to Brown. "Chuck it straight down the hatch," Mallory advised. "That way you won't taste it." He prodded the transmitter with his foot and looked up at Brown again. "No dice this time either?" "Raised them no bother, sir." Brown grimaced at the sticky sweetness of the wine. "Reception was first classboth here and in Cairo." "You got through!" Mallory sat up, leaned forward eagerly. "And were they pleased to hear from their wandering boys to-night?" "They didn't say. The first thing they told me was to shut up and stay that way." Brown poked moodily at the fire with a steaming boot. "Don't ask me how, sir, but they've been tipped off that enough equipment for two or three small monitoring stations has been sent here in the past fortnight." Mallory swore. "Monitoring stations! That's damned handy, that is!" He thought briefly of the fugitive, nomad existence these same monitoring stations had compelled Andrea and himself to lead in the White Mountains of Crete. "Dammit, Casey, on an island like this, the size of a soup plate, they can pin-point us with their eyes shut!" "Aye, they can that, sir," Brown nodded heavily. "Have you heard anything of these stations, Louki?' Mallory asked. "Nothing, Major; nothing." Louki shrugged. "I am afraid I do not even know what you are talking about." "I don't suppose so. Not that it mattersit's too late now. Let's have the rest of the good news, Casey." "That's about it, sir. No sending for meby order. Restricted to code abbreviationsaffirmative, negative, repetitive, wilco and such-like. Continuous sending only in emergency or when concealment's impossible anyway." "Like from the condemned cell in these ducky little dungeons in Navarone," Mallory murmured. "I died with my boots on, ma." "With all respects, sir, that's not funny," Brown said morosely. "Their invasion fleetmainly caiques and

Robin Hood took his mantle from 's back,

side, you! Who is this?" "You need not fear from him," Mallory said quietly. "He is one of us but he is terribly injured. He is dying." "We will see," the officer said tightly. "Move to the back of the cave!" He waited until the three men had stepped over Stevens, changed his automatic rifle for a pistol, dropped to his knees and advanced slowly, torch in one hand, gun in the other, well below the line of fire of the two soldiers who advanced unbidden at his heels. There was an inevitability, a cold professionalism about it all that made Mallory's heart sink. Abruptly the officer reached out his gun-hand, tore the covers off the boy. A shuddering tremor shook the whole body, his head rolied from side to side as he moaned in unconscious agony. The officer bent quickly over him, the hard, clean lines of the face, the fair hair beneath the hood high-lit in the beam of his own torch. A quick look at Stevens's pain-twisted, emaciated features, a glance at the shattered leg, a brief, distasteful wrinkling of the nose as he caught the foul stench of the gangrene, and he had hunched back on his heels, gently replacing the covers over the sick boy. "You speak the truth," he said softly. "We are not barbarians. I have no quarrel with a dying man. Leave him there." He rose to his feet, walked slowly backwards. "The rest of you outside." The snow had stopped altogether, Mallory saw, and stars were beginning to twinkle in the clearing sky. The wind, too, had fallen away and was perceptibly warmer. Most of the snow would be gone by midday, Mallory guessed. Carelessly, incuriously, he looked around him. There was no sign of Casey Brown. Inevitably Mallory's hopes began to rise. Petty Officer Brown's recommendation for this operation had come from the very top. Two rows of ribbons to which he was entitled but never wore bespoke his gallantry, he had a formidable reputation as a guerrilla fighterand he had had an automatic rifle in his hand. If he were somewhere out there. . . . Almost as 'if he had divined his hopes, the German smashed them at a word. "You wonder where your sentry is, perhaps?" he asked mockingly. "Never fear, Englishman, he is not far from here, asleep at his post. Very sound asleep, I'm afraid." "You've killed him?" Mallory's hands clenched until his palms ached. The other shrugged his shoulder in vast indifference. "I really couldn't say. It was all too easy. One of my men lay in the gully and moaned. A masterly performancereally pitiablehe almost had panasonic lumix digital cameras me convinced. Like a fool your man came to investigate. I had another man waiting above, the barrel of his rifle in his hand. A very effective club, I assure you. . . ." Slowly Mallory unclenched his fists and stared bleakly down the gully. Of course Casey would fall for that, he was bound to after what had happened earlier in the night. He wasn't going to make a fool of himself again, cry "wolf" twice in succession: inevitably, he had gone to check first. Suddenly the thought occurred to Mallory that maybe Casey Brown had heard something earlier on, but the thought vanished as soon as it had come. Panayis did not look like the man to make a mistake: and Andrea never made a mistake; Mallory turned back to the officer again. "Well, where do we go from here?" "Margaritha, and very shortly. But one thing first." The German, his own height to an inch, stood squarely in front of him, levelled revolver at waist height, switched-off torch dangling loosely from his right hand. "Just a little thing, Englishman. Where are the explosives?" He almost spat the words out. "Explosives?" Mallory furrowed his brow in perplexity. "What explosives?" be asked blankly, then staggered and fell to the ground as the heavy torch swept round in a vicious half-circle, caught him flush on the side of the face. Dizzily he shook his head and climbed slowly to his feet again. "The explosives." The torch was balanced in the hand again, the voice silky and gentle. "I asked you where they were." "I don't know what you are talking about." Mallory spat out a broken tooth, wiped some blood off his smashed lips. "Is this the way the Germans treat their prisoners?" he asked contemptuously. "Shut up!" Again the torch lashed out. Mallory was waiting for it, rode the blow as best he could: even so the torch caught him heavily high up on the cheekbone, just below the temple, stunning him with its jarring impact. Seconds passed, then he pushed himself slowly off the snow, the whole side of his face afire with agony, his vision blurred and unfocused. "We fight a clean war!" The officer was breathing heavily, in barely controlled fury. "We fight by the Geneva Conventions. But these are for soldiers, not for murdering spies" "We are no spies!" Mallory interrupted. He felt as if his head was coming apart. "Then where are your uniforms?" the officer demanded. "Spies, I

"The first loud blast that he did blow,

operator as comfortably as our sledge did that night. It took us no more than five minutes to reach the cabin, and in three more minutes we were on our way again. They were a busy three minutes. Jackstraw lit the oil stove, oil lamp and Colman pressure lamp, while Joss and I put the injured man on a collapsible cot before the stove, worked him into my sleeping-bag, slid in half a dozen heat padswaterproof pads containing a chemical which gave off heat when water was addedplaced a rolled up blanket under his neck to keep the back of his head off the cot, and zipped the sleeping-bag shut. I had surgical instruments enough to do what had to be done, but it had to wait: not so much because we had others still to rescue, urgent enough though that was, but the man lying at our feet, so still, so ashen-faced, was suffering so severely from shock and exposure that to touch him would have been to kill him: I was astonished that he had managed to survive even this long. I told the stewardess to make some coffee, gave her the necessary instructions, and then we left her and the big young man together: the girl heating a pan over a pile of meta tablets, the young man staring incredulously into a mirror as he kneaded a frost-bitten cheek and chin with one hand, and with another held a cold compress to a frozen ear. We took with us the warm clothes we had lent them, some rolls of bandages, and left. Ten minutes later we were back inside the plane. Despite its insulation, the temperature inside the main cabin had already dropped at least thirty degrees and almost everyone was shivering with the cold, one or two beating their arms to keep themselves warm. Even the Dixie colonel was looking very subdued. The elderly lady, fur coat tightly wrapped around her, looked at her watch and smiled. "Twenty minutes, exactly. You are very prompt, young man." "We try to be of service." I dumped the pile of clothes I was carrying on a seat, nodded at them and the contents of a gunny sack Joss and Jackstraw were emptying. "Share these out between you and be as quick as you can. I want you to get out at oncemy two friends here will take you back. Perhaps one of you will be kind enough to remain behind." I looked to where the young girl still sat alone in her back seat, still holding her left forearm in her hand. "I'll need some help to fix this young lady up." "Fix her up?" It was the expensive young woman in the expensive furs speaking for the first time. Her voice was expensive as the rest of her hp digital camera service website and made me want to reach for a hairbrush. "Why? What on earth is the mattef with her?" "Her collar-bone is broken," I said shortly. "Collar-bone broken?" The elderly lady was on her feet, her face a nice mixture of concern and indignation. "And she's been sitting there alone all this timewhy didn't you tell us, you silly man?" "I forgot," I replied mildly. "Besides, what good would it have done?" I looked down at the girl in the mink coat. Goodness only knew that I didn't particularly want her, but the injured girl had struck me as being almost painfully shy, and I was sure she'd prefer to have one of her own sex around. "Would you like to give me a hand?" She stared at me, a cold surprised stare that would have been normal enough had I made some outrageous or improper request, but before she could answer the elderly lady broke in again. "I'll stay behind. I'd love to help." "Well" I began doubtfully, but she interrupted immediately. "Well yourself. What's the matter? Think I'm too old, hey?" "No, no, of course not," I protested. "A fluent liar, but a gallant one." She grinned. "Come on, we're wasting this valuable time you're always so concerned about." We brought the girl into the first of the rear seats, where there was plenty of space between that and the first of the rearward facing front seats, and had just worked her coat off when Joss called me. "We're off now, sir. Back in twenty minutes." As the door closed behind the last of them and I broke open a roll of bandage, the old lady looked quizzically at me. "Know what you're doing, young man?" "More or less. I'm a doctor." "Doctor, hey?" She looked at me with open suspicion, and what with my bulky, oil-streaked and smelly furs, not to mention the fact that I hadn't shaved for three days, I suppose there was justification enough for it. "You sure?" "Sure I'm sure," I said irritably. "What do you expect me to dowhip my medical degree out from under this parka or just wear round my neck a brass plate giving my consulting hours?" "We'll get along, young

That thy heart could forget,

Killashandra decided to approach her problem in a direct fashion. Altering her direction, she intercepted the two men. Youve had your natter, she began, mimicking Keralaws throaty drawl and speech pattern, now enjoy. Angels a good island for feasting. She flung one garland on Corish, the other about Lars Dahls neck, making her smile as seductive as possible. Before they could respond, though neither removed her flowers, she linked her arms in theirs and propelled them toward the pit, grinning from one to the other, daring them to break away. Corish shrugged, smiled tolerantly down at her, accepting her impudence. Lars Dahl, however, covered her hand on his arm and, just then, their thighs brushed and she lurched against him, abruptly aware of receiving an intense shock. Startled, she glanced up at Lars Dahl, his face illuminated by the pit fires, his lazy smile appreciating the contact shock they had both felt. His long fingers curled tightly around hers with a hint of possessiveness. His blue eyes sparkled as his gaze challenged her. His arm fastened hers to his smooth warm waist as Killashandra candidly returned his glance. He sidestepped suddenly, pulling Killashandra with him so that she had to drop Corishs arm. Ive certainly done enough talking, he said, grinning more broadly at the success of his maneuver and maneuvering. Corish find yourself another one. Youre mine, arent you, Sunny? Corish gave a slightly contemptuous snort but continued on while Lars Dahl stopped, swinging Killashandra into a strong embrace, his hands caressing her back, settling into her waist to hold her firmly against him as he bent his head. The flowers were crushed between them, their fragrance spilling into her senses. With an inadvertent gesture of acceptance, Killashandras hands slid up his bare warm chest, her fingers caressing the velvet skin, taking note of the strong pectoral muscles, the column of his throat. His lips tasted salty, but firm, parting hers as he settled his mouth against her, and once again the shock of their contact was almost like crystal. Hungrily Killashandra surrendered to his deft kiss, trying to meld her body against the strong, lean length of him. She altered her arms, stroking the silky skin of his hard-muscled back, all her senses involved in this simple act. They parted slightly, his hands still caressing her, one hand on the bare skin beneath her shirt as she gently stroked his shoulders, breathless and unable to leave his supporting arms. If his embrace had begun as minolta xt digital camera perfunctory, it wasnt now. There was about his grasp a sense of astonishment, wonder, and discovery. I must know your name, he said softly, tipping her chin up to look into her eyes. Carrigana, she managed to remember to say. Why have I never seen you before? You have, she said with a rich, suggestive chuckle, amused by her own presumption, but you are always too busy with deep thoughts to see what you look at. I am all eyes now Carrigana. A slight tremor in his soft tone sent one through her body, as his hands renewed their grip, encouraging her body to conform to his. Part of her mind recognized the sincerity in his voice while another section wondered how she could make the most of this encounter. All of her didnt care what else happened to either of them if they could just enjoy this one evening. She was so hungry it had been months since shed made love. Not yet, sweet Sunny, not yet, he said determinedly but gently disengaging himself. Weve the whole night before us, and his low voice lilted with promise. Youll know I cannot absent myself so soon. And well both be the stronger after a good meal his laughter rippled with sensuality for our dalliance. She let herself be swung again to his side, his arm tucking hers against his ribs, his warm hand stroking hers as he guided her to the barbecue pits. She had no argument against his so firm decision. Although she murmured understanding, she seethed with abruptly interrupted sensations, forcing herself to an outward amity. Perhaps it was as well, she told herself, as they collected platters from one of the long tables and joined those awaiting slices of roasted meat. Shed need time to recover and buffer herself against the charisma of the man. He was as potent as Lanzecki. And that was the first time shed thought of the Guildmaster in a while! What did Lars mean in saying shed know why he couldnt absent himself so soon? How important was he within the island society, aside from being its first citizen to get into the Conservatory? Then they were in the midst of the eager diners, with Lars exchanging laughing comments, teasing acquaintances, his rich lilting laughter rising above theirs. Yet he kept a firm grip on Killashandra and she tried to compose her expression against the surprise in the womens faces and

"Which name shall be changed anon;

into his arms. Momentarily she lacked the strength to return the embrace but burrowed her head into the curve of his shoulder and neck, inhaling the smell of him, and exhaling into the tears she had kept bottled for the eternity in which they had been parted. Lars swept her up in his arms, and carried her to the chair, where he cradled her, appalled at the wildness of her sobbing and comforting her with kisses, caresses, and strong embracings. That fardling machine that served justice was never told we were emotionally attached, the one piece of information that no one but us would have thought relevant, he said, releasing in talk the tension he had endured all through the process of getting to this point when he would be ready, and able, to meet her again. Then Father found out what had happened and he moved the entire Department to revoke that judgment on the basis of misinterpretation of your psychological response. Poor sweet Sunny, so worried about me she messed us both up. To her surprise, he chuckled. You didnt know that the only reason that disciplinary action was entered against me was the Courts attempt to satisfy what they took to be a suppressed desire for revenge in you. Justice was being served, blind as it was. Father finally reached a human in authority, swore blind to half a dozen psych-units that he himself had hand-fasted us on Angel Island and got the action revoked. Dyou know, that Court Bailiff was a narding construct! No wonder I couldnt move when he grabbed me. Then, when we did understand our rights, Trag had already departed with you. I guess you were pretty upset. At such a massive understatement of fact, she managed to nod, trying not to laugh at the absurdity, but she couldnt stop weeping. It had built up quite a head and it ought to prove conclusively to Lars, if he needed any, just how much she had missed him. She had waited so long to be in his arms, to hear his rich and pleasant tenor voice, and the sort of nonsense he was likely to speak. He could have been speaking gibberish and shed have been content to listen. But he was also telling her the things she would have asked about him, what she needed to know to put some color in the past dreadful year. Then Father, Corish, and I spent two months processing material for the Council. Theach, Brassner, and Erutown had come out with Corish and they got assigned to the Revision Corps until someone in the Council took a closer look at the equations jvc digital video camera cable which Theach was idly calling up on his terminal. Lars smiled tenderly as he delicately blotted tears from her cheeks, then kissed her forehead for such an un-Killashandraish display of sentimentality. So he landed on his feet, as usual. Five more people, including the brewmaster of Gartertown, whom you might remember, he added, tapping her nose as he teased, got out on the next liner and are being resettled. What had worried Nahia and Hauness was what refugees would do once they got off Optheria, but there seems to be a resettlement policy. Not that Optherians have all that many skills to offer the advanced societies. Father and I got drafted to brief the actual Revision Force. You see, right after that infamous hearing, several more agents were sent in to play tourist during the Summer Festival. Good job we left some two-manuals intact. They came back, reporting that they were subjected to blatant subliminal conditioning at public concerts in Ironwood, Bailey, Everton, and Palamo. One thing Father and I emphasized was that the Revision Forces had better wait until after The Festival or theyd have a bankrupt planet as well as a disorganized one. So Optheria got its annual chance to acquire revenue, and Lars grinned with great satisfaction, and the Elders hadnt twigged to the fact that no subliminal messages were going out on either of the big Conservatory organs. Leaving the mainlanders quite willing to accept anything said about them. When weve spare time, Ive got some tapes of the actual landing and the takeover. Four Elders had fatal seizures but Ampris, Torkes, and Pentrom will answer to the Supreme Judiciary for their infamous, felonious, malicious, premeditated, and illegal manipulation of Optherian loyalties. The Revision Forces are well installed now on Optheria He looked out with the unfocused gaze of someone imagining a scene and was briefly sad. He bent to kiss Killashandra again, noting that her tears had abated and her breath was no longer taken in ragged gasps. Why didnt you go with them? Oh, I was given many arguments why I should. Even a rather complimentary commission. Father returned, but I rather thought he wouldnt leave Teradia for long. To my surprise, Corish went, and of course Erutown and Brassner. I had other plans. Killashandra shook her head in sad rebuke. If Id known what you planned to do Her gesture

I gat eels and broo; mother, make my bed soon,

cradled in Andrea's encircling arm, the rain-lashed, bleeding mask of a face lolling grotesquely backwards, forlorn and lifeless with the dead pathos of a broken doll. Seconds later Mallory was up beside them, expertly lashing Stevens's wrists together. He was swearing softly as his numbed hands looped and tightened the rope, softly, bitterly, continuously, but he was quite unaware of this: he was aware only of the broken head that lolled stupidly against his shoulder, of the welling, rain-thinned blood that filmed the upturned face, of the hair above the gashed temple emerging darkly fair as the dye washed slowly out. Inferior bloody boot-blacking, Mallory thought savagely: Jensen shall know of thisit could cost a man's life. And then he became aware of his own thoughts and swore again, stifi more savagely and at 'himself this time, for the utter triviality of what he was thinking. With both hands freeStevens's bound arms were looped round his neck, his body lashed to his ownAndrea took less than thirty seconds to reach the top: if the dragging, one hundred and sixty pound deadweight on his back made any difference to Andrea's climbing speed and power, Mallory couldn't detect it. The man's endurance was fantastic. Once, just once, as Andrea scrambled over the edge of the cliff, the broken leg caught on the rock, and the crucifying torture of it seared through the merciful shell of insensibility, forced a brief shriek of pain from his lips, a hoarse, bubbling whisper of sound all the more horrible for its muted agony. And then Andrea was standing upright and Mallory was behind him, cutting swiftly at the ropes that bound the two together. "Straight into the rocks with him, Andrea, will you?" Mallory whispered. "Wait for us at the first open space you come to." Andrea nodded slowly and without raising his head, his hooded eyes bent over the boy in his arms, like a man sunk in thought. Sunk in thought or listening, and all unawares Mallory, too, found himself looking and listening into the thin, lost moaning of the wind, and there was nothing there, only the lifting, dying threnody and the chill of the rain hardening to an ice-cold sleet. He shivered, without knowing why, and listened again; then he shook himself angrily, turned abruptly towards the cliff face and started reeling in the rope. He had it all up, lying round his feet in a limp and rain-sodden tangle when he remembered about the spike still secured to the foot of the chimney, the hundreds of feet of rope suspended from it. He was too tired and cold camera digital hp m307 review and depressed even to feel exasperated with himself. The sight of Stevens and the knowledge of how it was with the boy had affected him more than he knew. Moodily, almost, he kicked the rope over the side again, slid down the chimney, untied the second rope and sent the spike spinning out into the darkness. Less than ten minutes later, the wetly-coiled ropes over his shoulder, he led Miller and Brown into the dark confusion of the rocks. They found Stevens lying under the lee of a huge boulder, less than a hundred yards inland, in a tiny, cleared space barely the size of a billiard table. An oilskin was spread beneath him on the sodden, gravelly earth, a camouflage cape covered most of his body: it was bitterly cold now, but the rock broke the force of the wind, sheltered the boy from the driving sleet. Andrea looked up as the three men dropped into the hollow and lowered their gear to the ground; already, Mallory could see, Andrea had rolled the trouser up beyond the knee and cut the heavy jack-boot away from the mangled leg. "Sufferin' Christ!" The words, half-oath, half-prayer, were torn involuntarily from Miller: even in the deep gloom the shattered leg looked ghastly. Now he dropped on one knee and stooped low over it. "What a mess!" he murmured slowly. He looked up ov?r his shoulder. "We've gotta do something about that leg, boss, and we've no damned time to lose. This kid's a good candidate for the mortuary." "I know. We've got to save him, Dusty, we've just got to." All at once this had become terribly important to Mallory. He dropped down on his knees. "Let's have a look at him." Impatiently Miller waved him away. "Leave this to me, boss." There was a sureness, a sudden authority in his voice that held Mallory silent. "The medicine pack, quickand undo that tent." "You sure you can handle this?" God knew, Mallory thought, he didn't really doubt himhe was conscious only of gratitude, of a profound relief, but he felt he had to say something. "How are you going" "Look, boss," Miller said quietly. "All my life I've worked with just three thingsmines, tunnels and explosives. They're kinda tricky things, boss. I've seen hundreds of busted arms and legsand fixed most of them myself." He grinned wryly in the darkness. "I was boss myself, thenjust one of my privileges, I reckon." "Good enough!" Mallory clapped him on the shoulder. "He's all

And burbled as it came!

feet. A full stomach was unlikely to improve her understanding of the puzzle, but it wouldnt hinder thought. Corish and Lars Dahl seemed to have succumbed to the enticement as well. In that instant, Killashandra decided to approach her problem in a direct fashion. Altering her direction, she intercepted the two men. Youve had your natter, she began, mimicking Keralaws throaty drawl and speech pattern, now enjoy. Angels a good island for feasting. She flung one garland on Corish, the other about Lars Dahls neck, making her smile as seductive as possible. Before they could respond, though neither removed her flowers, she linked her arms in theirs and propelled them toward the pit, grinning from one to the other, daring them to break away. Corish shrugged, smiled tolerantly down at her, accepting her impudence. Lars Dahl, however, covered her hand on his arm and, just then, their thighs brushed and she lurched against him, abruptly aware of receiving an intense shock. Startled, she glanced up at Lars Dahl, his face illuminated by the pit fires, his lazy smile appreciating the contact shock they had both felt. His long fingers curled tightly around hers with a hint of possessiveness. His blue eyes sparkled as his gaze challenged her. His arm fastened hers to his smooth warm waist as Killashandra candidly returned his glance. He sidestepped suddenly, pulling Killashandra with him so that she had to drop Corishs arm. Ive certainly done enough talking, he said, grinning more broadly at the success of his maneuver and maneuvering. Corish find yourself another one. Youre mine, arent you, Sunny? Corish gave a slightly contemptuous snort but continued on while Lars Dahl stopped, swinging Killashandra into a strong embrace, his hands caressing her back, settling into her waist to hold her firmly against him as he bent his head. The flowers were crushed between them, their fragrance spilling into her senses. With an inadvertent gesture of acceptance, Killashandras hands slid up his bare warm chest, her fingers caressing the velvet skin, taking note of the strong pectoral muscles, the column of his throat. His lips tasted salty, but firm, parting hers as he settled his mouth against her, and once again the shock of their contact was almost like crystal. Hungrily Killashandra surrendered to his deft kiss, trying to meld her body against the strong, lean length of him. She altered her arms, stroking the silky skin of his hard-muscled back, all her senses involved in this simple act. They parted slightly, his hands a630 camera canon digital powershot still caressing her, one hand on the bare skin beneath her shirt as she gently stroked his shoulders, breathless and unable to leave his supporting arms. If his embrace had begun as perfunctory, it wasnt now. There was about his grasp a sense of astonishment, wonder, and discovery. I must know your name, he said softly, tipping her chin up to look into her eyes. Carrigana, she managed to remember to say. Why have I never seen you before? You have, she said with a rich, suggestive chuckle, amused by her own presumption, but you are always too busy with deep thoughts to see what you look at. I am all eyes now Carrigana. A slight tremor in his soft tone sent one through her body, as his hands renewed their grip, encouraging her body to conform to his. Part of her mind recognized the sincerity in his voice while another section wondered how she could make the most of this encounter. All of her didnt care what else happened to either of them if they could just enjoy this one evening. She was so hungry it had been months since shed made love. Not yet, sweet Sunny, not yet, he said determinedly but gently disengaging himself. Weve the whole night before us, and his low voice lilted with promise. Youll know I cannot absent myself so soon. And well both be the stronger after a good meal his laughter rippled with sensuality for our dalliance. She let herself be swung again to his side, his arm tucking hers against his ribs, his warm hand stroking hers as he guided her to the barbecue pits. She had no argument against his so firm decision. Although she murmured understanding, she seethed with abruptly interrupted sensations, forcing herself to an outward amity. Perhaps it was as well, she told herself, as they collected platters from one of the long tables and joined those awaiting slices of roasted meat. Shed need time to recover and buffer herself against the charisma of the man. He was as potent as Lanzecki. And that was the first time shed thought of the Guildmaster in a while! What did Lars mean in saying shed know why he couldnt absent himself so soon? How important was he within the island society, aside from being its first citizen to get into the Conservatory? Then they were in the midst of the eager diners, with Lars exchanging laughing comments, teasing

We feast on good cheer, with wine, ale, and beer,

Why me? The interests of the Heptite Guild are best served by your acceptance. A hint of desperation edged Trags voice. You object to the relationship between Lanzecki and me? She had no way of knowing in what way Trag had adapted to Ballybrans symbiont or in what way he expressed thought that such respect required additional outlets. If jealously prompted Trag to remove a rival No. Trags denial was accompanied by a ripple of his facial muscles. Up till now, he has not allowed personal consideration to interfere with his judgment. How has he done that? Killashandra was genuinely perplexed. Trag was not complaining that Lanzecki had awarded her another valuable assignment. He was perturbed because he hadnt. I dont follow you. Trag stared at her for such a long moment she wondered if the screen had malfunctioned. Even if you just go to Rani, it will not be far enough away or long enough. Lanzecki is long overdue for a field trip, Killashandra Ree. Because of you. Your body is so full of resonance hes been able to delay. But your resonance is not enough. If youre not available, he will be forced to cut crystal again and rejuvenate his body and his symbiont. If you have a real regard for the man, go. Now. Before its too late for him. Killashandra stared back at Trag, trying to absorb the various implications foremost was the realization that Lanzecki was genuinely attached to her. She felt a wave of exultation and tenderness that quite overwhelmed her for a moment. Shed never considered that possibility. Nor its corollary: that Lanzecki would be reluctant to cut crystal because he might forget his attachment. A man whod been in the Guild as long as he had would be subject to considerable memory loss in the Ranges. Had he learned his duties as Guild Master so thoroughly that the knowledge was as ingrained in him as the rules and regulations in a crystal-mad brain like Moksoons? It was not Lanzeckis face that suddenly dominated her thoughts, but the crisscross tracings of old crystal scars on his body, the inexplicable pain that occasionally darkened his eyes. Antonas cryptic admission about singers who could not break crystal thrall echoed in her head. She puzzled at the assortment of impressions and suddenly understood. She sagged against the back and arms of her chair for support. Dully she wondered if Trag and Antona had been in collusion. Would the subject of crystal thrall have come up at that lunch hour even if Rimbol had not arrived? There was little doubt in Killashandras mind that 55mm digital camera lens Antona knew of Lanzeckis circumstances. And she did doubt that the woman knew about their relationship. She also doubted that Trag would mention so personal an aspect of the Guild Masters business. Why couldnt Lanzecki have been just another singer, like herself? Why did he have to be Guild Master and far too valuable, too essential to be placed in jeopardy by unruly affection? Why, the situation has all the trappings of an operatic tragedy! A genuine one-solution tragedy, where hero and heroine both lose out. For she could now admit to herself that she was as deeply attached to Lanzecki as he was to her. She covered her face with both hands, clasping them to cheeks gone chill. She thought of Antonas advice, to put down everything including love Killashandra writhed in her chair. Antona couldnt have known that Killashandra would so shortly be faced with such an emotional decision. Which, Killashandra realized with a flicker of ironic amusement, was one to be as deeply and quickly interred and forgotten as possible. One thing was sure no matter how long the journey to Optheria, it wouldnt be long enough to forget all the wonderful moments she had enjoyed with Lanzecki the man. She squeezed her eyes shut against the pain of encountering him when she returned, and, perhaps, finding no recollection of her in his dark eyes. Nor feel his lips again on her hand Killashandra? Trags voice recalled her to his watching presence on the viewscreen. Now that I know the ramifications of the assignment, Trag, I can hardly refuse it. Her flippant tone was belied by the tears rolling down her cheeks. Do you go with him to break the thrall? she asked when her throat opened enough to speak again. At any other time, she would have counted Trags startled look as a signal of victory. Maybe if she found someone to sing with, she would also find such a passionate and unswerving loyalty. She must remember that. Whens the next shuttle to Shanganagh, Trag? She rubbed her cheeks dry with an urgent impatience. Tell Lanzecki tell him crystal resonance drove me to it. As she spun off her chair, she heard herself give a laugh that verged on the hysterical. Thats no more than the truth, isnt it? Driven by the need just to do something, she began to cram clothes into her carisak. The shuttle leaves in ten minutes, Killashandra Ree. That s great. She struggled to secure the