“Lily!” His whisper came out fierce. “Your father would kill me.”
“You better hide, then.” Her voice had an unexpected tremor.
With a start, Vyrl realized she wasn’t her usual teasing self. She was shaking! In all the years he had known Lily, he had seen her laughing, mischievous, glowering, joyous, annoyed, teasing, and earnest, but she had never been afraid of him.
Vyrl lowered his mental barriers, unsure, but trusting that her thoughts wouldn’t hurt him. As her mood permeated his mind, he realized she feared he would leave her forever, disappearing from her life, lost to rumors he had to marry an off-world queen. His crawling in her window didn’t frighten her; she trusted him the same way he trusted her.
He touched her cheek. “It’s been a long time.”
She folded her fingers around his with that new, charming shyness of hers. “Too long.”
Vyrl sighed, his memories rushing in. When he and Lily had been small children, they had often curled here in a pile on her bed. Then one day her parents and his had told them that they could no longer take naps together. Now Vyrl felt as if he were returning home, but with full knowledge of why their parents hadn’t wanted them together this way. They had been right. If he were Lily’s father, he would take a sharpened farm implement to any youth climbing in her window late at night.
But he wasn’t her father, he was the boy—no, the man—who dreamed of her every day. He stretched out next to her, still wearing his backpack and sweater, and pulled her into his arms. A jolt went through him, ten times stronger than the shiver Devon had evoked. Nor did this fade. It leapt like fire on oil.
“You make me crazy,” he whispered, fighting the urge to put his hands everywhere on her. He pressed his lips against her cheek. “You torment my nights.”
She slid her arms around him. “But I’ve done nothing, good sir.” Instead of offering sympathy for his travails, she sounded inordinately pleased by his declaration of unrequited passion.
Vyrl caressed her face, pushing aside her disarrayed curls. He found her lips with his and held her close, losing himself in her tenderness. He savored their kiss all the more for having so painfully labored to accept, these last two days, that he could never hold her again. She parted her lips, her embrace tightening, her body fitted against his, her touch uncertain but so very, very fine.
With reluctance, Vyrl lifted his head. She smiled, her big eyes luminous in the shadows. Ah, but he could lie here forever, lost in her arms. That was the problem, though. If he didn’t stop now, his plan would fail because he would end up staying the entire night. He and Lily would be found in the morning, thoroughly shocking her parents and his. Everyone would hush up his scandalous behavior, and his parents would probably lock him up in his tower room until he was safely married to Devon.
As Vyrl drew away, Lily made a low protest. He swallowed, even more aroused by her sweet, guileless desire. Determined to control himself, he sat up. She regarded him, puzzled and hurt, while he took her hands and drew her into a sitting position. The covers fell away from her body, revealing the soft sleep-gown that outlined her figure.
Vyrl’s concentration flew out the window. With a valiant effort, he tore his gaze away from her curves and made himself focus on her face. “Lily Opaline, I have an important matter to discuss with you.”
“And what might that be?” Although she tried for a mischievous smile, she looked more scared than playful.
He took a deep breath. “I’m running away.”
Her tremulous smile vanished. “Vyrl, no! Don’t go.” Softly, she said, “Please don’t leave. Even if you have to marry that—that person, at least we can be friends.”
Vyrl couldn’t imagine being “friends” with Lily. It would cut out his heart. Nor did Lily understand; to marry Devon, he would leave Lyshriol and go live in some palace with a staff of hundreds, which he would be expected to manage while his wife attended her military duties.
“Lily, we can’t be friends,” he said firmly. He forced out the words. “General Majda, the woman who came from the sky—the leaders of my mother’s people say I must marry her. My parents agree.”
A tear ran down her cheek. “Don’t say good-bye this way.” Her mischief had vanished. “I can’t bear it.”
“Don’t cry.” He wiped his knuckles across her cheek, smearing her tears. Then he went deep in himself, calling up his courage, and spoke the words he had come to say. “I want you to run away with me.”
For a long moment she didn’t react, not in her face, her posture, or even her mood. Then her emotions flooded over him. He couldn’t sort it all out, but two responses came through strong and clear: She both feared and hoped he meant what he said.
“It’s true.” He could hardly believe that he had actually asked her. “Come with me.”
“But we can’t.” She drew his hands together and held them as if they were a treasure. “Your parents will bring us home. With their magics, they will easily find us.”
Vyrl had long ago given up trying to convince his friends that technology had nothing to do with magic. “I know they can find us. But I have a…well, a—a solution.”
“Solution?” Her emotions were clearer now: apprehension that she would lose him; uncertainty in how he felt about her compared to the mysterious adult who had trespassed in their midst; a desire for him that she didn’t fully understand; and the shyness that came with that desire, a self-conscious recognition of Vyrl’s masculinity, an awareness she had hidden this past year by tormenting him with mischief.
Emboldened, he plunged ahead before he lost his courage. “By the time they find us, we will be married.” Then he stopped, terrified. What if she refused him? He would die of shame, curl up into a ball the size of a bubble pod and blow away on the wind, never to be heard of again.
Lily stared at him. Then she gave an uneasy laugh. “You’re teasing me.”
“I’m not.” Vyrl raised her hands and pressed his lips against her knuckles. He spoke with all the persuasion he could muster. “Be my wife, Lily. You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted, the only one I ever will. Say yes.” He had gone too far to turn back now. “Tell me you will marry me. Tonight.”
She let go of his hands and covered her cheeks with her own. When she said nothing, he added, “I would court you, but we haven’t time, I’m afraid. You have to decide now.”
Instead of accepting or refusing him, she just lowered her hands. He could no longer catch individual emotions in the tumult of her thoughts. Why wouldn’t she speak? Had he offended her? Maybe he had been a fool, presuming where he had no place. Chagrined, he felt his face heating.
“You’re always so impatient,” she chided, her voice quavering behind her bravado. “This is worse than the time you pushed me into the lake.”
“You would have taken the entire summer to jump if I hadn’t pushed you.” His voice softened. “Be brave now, Lily. Say yes. We may never have another chance. Everyone is busy arranging my marriage. General Majda needs heirs and she’s thirty-eight, so she can’t wait much longer.”
Lily’s face changed slowly, her expression unlike any she had shown him before. No imp this, no child. This Lily looked…older. When she spoke, her voice caught. “Then, Havyrl Valdoria, I—I would be honored to marry you.”
Yes! She had said yes! He wanted to shout her answer to the sky, and he would have if it hadn’t meant her father would come thundering in here, threatening to skewer him for invading his daughter’s bedroom. He took her hands again and spoke in a low, intense voice. “I will make you a good husband, I swear it.”
Despite her best intentions to look somber, naughtiness crept into her voice. “But how do I know? You must give me a sample.” She put her arms around his neck and tilted her pretty face to his. “Unless you’re afraid to kiss me…”
He grinned, rubbing his hands along her back. “I’m not afraid, you rascal. But we have to leave. We need to cross the Backbone Mountains tonight and find a Bard in Rillia
to marry us. If we ask one in the Dalvador Plains, he will probably recognize me and refuse to do the ceremony without talking to our parents. But I look at least two years older than I am, Lily, and that’s old enough for us to marry without parental consent. If we go to the Rillian Vales, we can have it done.” Vyrl didn’t care that in the interstellar culture of his mother’s people, he was many, many years away from the age of majority. On Lyshriol, he was almost an adult.
Lily nodded, her eyes glimmering. “Then let us go.”
The war-lyrine raced across the plains, thrilling in its speed, releasing its pent-up energy much as Vyrl did when he ran through the endless grasses. Unlike the graceful, slender lyrine he had shown Devon yesterday, this powerful animal had a massive build and a violet coat, almost black in the moonlight. Its muscles rippled as it ran. The Dalvador Plains spread everywhere, an ocean of translucent reeds blued by the moonlight, as if enchanted. Behind them, the village of Dalvador dwindled in the plains; ahead, still a ride of a few hours, the Backbone Mountains speared into the sky.
Vyrl sat astride the lyrine with Lily in front of him, his arms around her waist, his hands gripped on the reins. The Lavender Moon rode high in the sky, bathing them in violet radiance and drawing glints of light from the lyrine’s horns. The crescent of the Blue Moon hung above the horizon.
Moonglaze had the full liquid gait of a well-bred lyrine, his muscles bioengineered to even out his motions, making his run so smooth that Vyrl and Lily could speak in full sentences even with their mount racing across the plains. Vyrl’s mother had expressed surprise to his father at the poetic names his people gave their war mounts but it made sense to Vyrl, who had been raised on Lyshriol. His mother’s people seemed overly pragmatic to him.
Leaning against Vyrl, Lily pulled her cloak tight. “I’ve never ridden on such a glorious animal before.”
“I’m not surprised. The great stallions like Moonglaze let few people touch them.” Vyrl didn’t want to think what his father would do when he found out his son had absconded with his best war-lyrine. But Moonglaze had always taken to Vyrl, and tonight he needed the animal’s strength.
Moonglaze had gone to “war” only a few times; conflicts on Lyshriol were minor, more like arguments than combat. But beyond this simple world, an interstellar civilization teemed with life and violence, caught in a world-slagging war that most people here could never comprehend. Vyrl knew that to survive, his mother’s people needed military leaders much as Devon and Althor.
Vyrl had no wish to fight; he wanted only to raise crops and babies with Lily. Although his father had trained him in the use of a sword and bow, he seemed content with Vyrl’s preference for farming, certainly the most prevalent lifestyle in Dalvador. However, Vyrl was the only farmer here who wanted a doctorate in agriculture. He could do it without leaving home, as a virtual student, if he could just buckle down to his studies. Lily would help in that; she always seemed to settle him.
As Devon’s consort, he could earn as many doctorates as he wanted. And then? Skolian nobility didn’t farm. He might like research; he didn’t really know. But it wasn’t his dream. He had no grievance with Devon; she seemed an honorable person. Even so, he could never imagine life in the Imperial Court. She wanted the innocent farm boy, but if she took him away from the land and life he loved, it would destroy him.
If he hadn’t loved another woman, perhaps he could have accepted the arranged marriage. It would have given him a great gift, freeing him to pursue a life he had never dared imagine could be his. He loved to dance and had trained all his life, but only in private where no one except his family and off-world teachers knew. It wasn’t accepted among people here that men dance, not under any circumstances, not even at festivals.
It didn’t matter. Without this woman in his arms, his life would be infinitely poorer. By the time their parents learned what he and Lily had done, it would be too late; they would have consummated their marriage. Their wedding would be public knowledge. Devon could no longer wed him even if his parents annulled his union.
Vyrl pulled Lily close, and she settled against him. He knew he had made the right choice in asking her to marry him.
He just hoped it didn’t cause an interstellar crisis.
Snow pummeled Vyrl and Lily as they rode through the mountain storm, an unexpected tempest after the clear weather down in the plains. He kept his arms and cloak protectively around Lily. His backpack, their most valuable possession right now, was securely lashed in the travel bags Moonglaze carried.
“—there!” The wind caught Lily’s voice and tore it away from his ears.
He leaned his head over hers. “What?”
“Need shelter…we could be…” Gales stole the rest of her words.
“Be what?”
“Hurt,” Lily said.
Vyrl clenched the reins. Inside his gloves, his fingers had gone numb. Had he brought his love out here only to lose her to the fury of a blue storm? No! He would never let it happen. He would die first—yes, he would—before he allowed anything to hurt Lily. Not that he was sure how his dying would help matters, but that was how he felt.
Lily was right, though; if they didn’t locate shelter, they could find themselves in serious trouble. He couldn’t see much of anything. Moonglaze’s head was barely more than a shadow in the swirling flurries. The lyrine had slowed to a walk, stepping carefully along the trail.
“—down,” Lily was saying. “We’re probably safer on foot.”
“Yes, I think so.” Vyrl reined in the lyrine and dismounted, then steadied Lily as she slid down next to him. Clutching the reins, he put his arm around her shoulders. Darkness whirled around them and wind ripped at their cloaks. His teeth chattered with cold.
Their best hope was probably to take refuge within the clumps of boulders that dotted the meadows on either side of the trail, if they could find some. He took a cautious step, drawing Lily through the swirling storm, almost blind in the darkness. Moonglaze followed, crowding them, his body too close.
“Don’t do that,” Vyrl muttered at the lyrine.
“He wants to protect us,” Lily said.
Vyrl swallowed, recognizing she spoke the truth. What if his rash decision to run away ended in tragedy? Steeling his resolve, he took another step into the icy dark. “I can’t see a blasted thing.”
She spoke with reassurance. “We’ll manage. We’ve been through worse.”
“That’s true.” He said it to comfort her. Although he had experienced bad weather up here before, he had been part of a well-equipped caravan then. They had simply set up enviro-tents and sat out the weather in comfort. Right now he had nothing but his palmtop; his already stuffed pack hadn’t had room for much else. The palmtop could do little more than tell him they were in trouble, which wasn’t exactly a great revelation.
Lily tugged on his arm. “Over here!”
He squinted into the darkness. “You see something?”
She pulled his hand forward until it hit rock. “This.”
Vyrl frowned. The trail had no outcroppings this close to the road. “It shouldn’t be here.”
“I think we’re farther along than we realized.”
His hope surged. “The cliffs above the meadows have caves.”
“Little ones, but that’s enough.”
He groped along the wall with one hand, drawing Lily and Moonglaze with him, all of them faltering through the storm, their progress slow. Snow dusted Vyrl’s eyelashes, making it hard to see, and he shivered constantly despite his heavy cloak. He had checked the forecast twice that afternoon. It had predicted chill weather in the mountains, yes, but it had also claimed the night would be calm, with only a dusting of snow.
Suddenly he stumbled into an open space. He regained his balance with ease, never losing hold of Lily or the reins. Mercifully, the storm had quit tearing at them. He drew in a ragged breath, his first full one since they had dismounted.
“You did it!” Lily hugged him hard, as if he
had just performed a great feat instead of lurching about in the dark like a dolt. He smiled, his heart warming even if his body felt half-frozen.
When he pulled her close, he felt her shaking. “It’s all right,” he said. “I think I know this place.” He drew her farther into the cave, waving his hand in front of them. The lyrine moved at his side, a large presence in the dark.
His knuckles hit a wall with painful force. “Ah!” Grimacing, he shook his hand. “I found the back.”
Lily’s cloak rustled as she felt the wall. “We can wait out the storm here.”
“Yes.” Vyrl reached around for the lyrine, with no success. Dropping his hand, he brushed its back. “Hey! Moonglaze is lying down.” Although it wasn’t unheard of for a lyrine, it was unusual enough to startle Vyrl.
Lily turned in the small space. “Are you well, Moon?” The lyrine nickered to her.
“He made a wall for us,” she said. “He’s going to sleep that way, I think.”
“He’s warming the cave.” Although Vyrl still felt cold, he was no longer shivering. He scratched the base of Moonglaze’s horn. Although lyrine would let people ride them, the animals rarely showed much affinity for humans, especially the great beasts like Moonglaze. In rare instances, a war-lyrine would decide it liked a particular human, though Vyrl had never figured out what made them choose a person. He wondered if the Ruby Empire biologists had tried to breed loyalty into them, but it either hadn’t fully taken or else millennia of genetic drift had changed its manifestation. Whatever the reason, he was glad Moonglaze accepted his company and seemed to approve of Lily.
Lily put her palms against Vyrl’s chest. In the darkness he could just make out the pale oval of her face. “Do you think the snow will trap us here?” Her voice quavered.
“Don’t be afraid.” He curled his gloved fingers around hers. “If this is the place I think, it’s under a shelf sticking out from the cliff. It would be almost impossible for snow to block our way out.”