“Right, ” she interrupted hastily. “All right, you are different. Maybe all you Heralds are. That doesn’t make what I do any less valid. The rest of the world isn’t like you. And if there are going to be people out there making war on other people, don’t you think it’s a good idea for some of those people to at least follow a code of ethics? Not ‘honor, ’ but something you can pin down and be sure of, something with the same rules for everybody. That’s what we’re doing. And if we do it for money, so be it. At least someone is doing it at all. ”

She looked back up, to see he was smiling, ruefully. “You have a point, ” he said, with a sigh. “Kero, that wasn’t why I came here—”

Before she knew what she was doing, she had responded to that smile, to the invitation in his eyes, and was locked in a mutual embrace with him.

Part of her was in terror. This was real-too real. Eldan’s arms felt too solid; his body too warm against hers. I’m going crazy, I must be! Being alone—

But the rest of her welcomed his embrace, the warmth of his lips on her forehead. The only intimate human touch she had—

Even if it wasn’t real.

“I didn’t want to argue with you, ” he said in her ear. “I am worried about you. You’re trying to do too much. You take to much on yourself. And you bottle up your own feelings, never let anything out. You’re going to destroy yourself this way—you can’t be everything to everyone.”

“I thought you said you didn’t come here to argue with me, ” she heard herself saying. “Keep that up and you’ll start another one. ”

“Oh, Kero, ” he shook his head, and she looked up into his eyes. “Kero, what am I going to do with you?”

“You might try—”

He stopped the words with a kiss, a kiss that led to more kisses, and then to something more intimate than mere kisses—

Hands warm on skin, illusory clothing vanishing as they touched each other in wonder and pleasure and joy—

“Blessed Agnira!”

Kero woke up with a start, and the moment she was actually awake, she began to shake with terror.

The wine hadn’t worked. The dreams were back, more vivid than ever, and the wine hadn’t helped. This one-it had been real Too real, too close to home. Part of her had wanted it, that was the worst thing; part of her had welcomed not only the dream, but the fantasy lovemaking.

She flung off the light blanket, and sat up on the edge of the cot, shaking. I’m going mad. I’m truly going mad. It’s all been too much for me.