“I have no right,” Draconas conceded. “Except as someone who cares about you. Cares very much.”

Lysira’s colors blurred in confusion. She didn’t know what to say and so she said nothing, and by the time she thought of something, he was gone.

Lysira soared triumphantly into the evening sky. She could have fought Grald or a hundred like him in that moment of happiness. She did not forget her charges and, from her vantage point, she cast an eye on the humans, antlike, in the boat on the river that wound, snakelike, among the trees, and she thought how deceptively serene and peaceful the chaotic world of men looked from this vast distance, up among the stars.

9

MARCUS WOKE WITH A START TO PITCH DARKNESS, NOISY WITH THE songs of frogs and crickets, to find Evelina lying across his feet. He tried to recall what had awakened him, but he’d been so deeply asleep that he couldn’t distinguish dream from reality. He had either heard the swishing sound of something creeping along the shoreline or he’d dreamed it.

He froze, not moving, barely breathing, thinking that if he was quiet, whatever was out there might try to sneak up on him and he’d have the advantage of surprise.

He heard nothing except Evelina, who muttered something and rolled over, causing the boat to rock. He waited a few more moments. He couldn’t wait long, however, for he was afraid that Evelina might wake and inadvertently say or do something that would reveal their hiding place.

Marcus rose up slowly and stealthily. He slid one arm beneath Evelina’s head, and he placed his hand, very gently, over her mouth.

“Evelina,” he said softly.

He expected her to jump and gasp or scream, which was why he had his hand over her mouth. What he did not expect was for her to nibble at his fingers, murmur something unintelligible, and nestle more deeply into his embrace.

“Evelina, wake up,” he said again.

She snuggled closer. Her breath was warm and moist on his hand. “Kiss me,” she whispered.

“Evelina,” he said. “Please . . .”

Her eyelids fluttered. She stretched languorously, arching her back and flexing her arms behind her head. Soft, full parts of her brushed against him. Her lips licked his fingers and the touch of her lips and her body sent desire aching through his body.

“I’m awake,” she said, and her eyes opened.

She gazed at Marcus, then she pushed him back and sat up with a suddenness that set the boat rocking wildly.

“Oh!” she gasped, clutching at her chemise.

“I’m sorry!” he gasped in turn. Drawing back, he felt guilt-ridden and confused. “I didn’t mean ... I was only trying ... I was afraid you might cry out . . .”