“Oh, yes,” Sedric replied. “I think this is the warmest that Relpda has ever been. I never realized how chilled she always felt.” He paused and then added, “It may be hard to get them to move on tomorrow.”

“Perhaps we could take a day here,” Alise suggested. “To chart what we’ve found and explore a bit more.”

Everyone was startled when Mercor opened his eyes and lifted his head. “No. We have gone too slowly and been delayed too often already. Tomorrow we move on. Summer is gone. When the fall rains come down, the river will rise. We need to be in Kelsingra before the rains come again.”

THYMARA CAUGHT HER breath and Tats’s hand in the same instant. “No,” she said. The word came out much more decisively than she actually felt about his touch. She sighed reluctantly as she pulled back from him. The sound he made was much more frustrated.

It was very late at night. The two of them were standing at the stern of the barge, in the relative privacy of the deserted deck and the night. The other keepers were sleeping, some on top of the deckhouse and others in the galley and on the foredeck. She’d agreed to meet him here to “talk,” knowing that that was not at all what either one of them wanted to do. She tried to regret how she tormented both of them by allowing him to touch her, but her blood was still racing with the sensations that his kisses and touch could awaken in her. It was harder to say no to herself than it was to deny him. Their encounters always followed the same pattern. They would talk, and one or the other would give in to the impulse. There would be kisses, followed by touches. And it always ended the same way.

“Why?” he demanded abruptly. “Why do you let me touch you and then make me stop? Do you think it’s funny?”

“No. I just…” She was flustered by the anger and hurt in his voice. She took a breath and opted for honesty. “I love how it feels. I know I shouldn’t let you touch me at all, but…”

“You like it?”

“Of course I do. But—”

“Then let me be with you. Thymara, please. I want you so badly. I know you want me.”

“I’m afraid—”

“I’ll be gentle, I promise. You can trust me.”

“Let me speak. You keep interrupting!”

He pulled back from her without letting go of her. “Fine. Talk then.” His words were brusque, but he didn’t release her from his embrace. He still pressed himself against her thigh, and she could feel the throbbing urgency there. She was the one who disentangled herself and took a step away from him.