Chapter 17

Theiraos, despite the persistence of rebellion and policies other realms blanch at, has always retained access to the echelons of power. They play as though they might consider changing values after their children study abroad, and this works as well as toothless politicians prefer. Those children generally become enmeshed in the system, and their foreign friends then help them uphold it.

Probably that makes it more infuriating for those who truly don't want the status quo. But the very possibility of having peers around the world in different specialties who could all learn from each other! Of course Serenthuar would never allow their students to be educated elsewhere.

After all, what if people really can change?

The Theiraosian rebels stripped them of their spell pads and pens first and immobilized their fingers behind their backs to prevent them from spellcasting easily.

They took her cloak, too, given how many spells Vhann had embedded into it, which wrenched at Liris. She knew her expression hadn't revealed her, but Vhannor still murmured in her ear before they were separated so they couldn't collaborate, "I can make you a new one."

He was right, and impossibly sweet. It was just a thing. But it was hers, and she had so little that had come to matter.

Liris and Vhannor still walked, but since the party never stopped, their feet couldn't help them on that front either.

Yet, anyway.

That was all, though, and Liris surmised these rebels, despite their rejection of the law, did not consider themselves villains. Well, and small wonder—their government's policies were amazingly awful. Rebelling here might not be safe, but it wasn't in any way irrational. That seemed like something she ought to be able to use, and yet, they were—now, anyway—on opposing sides. Liris wondered what they'd failed to understand.

Or what she had.

As the rebels led them to their destination, Chaeheen leafed through Liris' spell pad, not Vhannor's, presumably to familiarize herself with the abilities of this unknown threat. Liris was torn between a feeling of obscure violation—it wasn't all that different than Serenthuar springing a surprise test, but maybe that was the problem—and vicious pride as the leader's visage darkened as she read.

Chaeheen glanced over, and Liris returned the look archly as if to say, That's right. Vhannor's not the only one you need to watch out for.

Through the window of soldiers in his separately guarded bubble, Vhannor's lips twitched, and Liris shrugged back at him. If she was going to lose the advantage of surprise, she didn't mind being appreciated.

She wasn't going to wait for Chaeheen to finish drawing conclusions, though.

She trusted Vhannor, but she had waited enough without acting for a lifetime. She never would again.

Liris surveyed the people around her, considered openings. Lots of serious countenances, which was flattering but not useful. Hmm. "I don't know much about Theiraos," she tried.

Most of the people surrounding her ignored this sally, but one responded wryly, "We do know you're Serenthuar-trained."

Got one. That was a start.

"Yes," Liris agreed easily, "which is how you know I've never been anywhere, because you'd have known about it. I do of course know that your government is full of more corrupt shitheads than is even standard for a government—" Snorts from two of her captors. "—but I thought you were freedom fighters."

"We are," the same person replied mildly.

"Working for demons?" Liris continued lightly, like this was an amusing intellectual exercise and not of profound importance. "Taking orders from a foreign caster? How do you figure that ends with you having more freedom and not less?"

They said, "When we reach the end of journeys and are called to witness, the balance of our souls may be determined. But not before."

The cadence was practiced. This was memorized—and, in fact, a passage Liris thought she recognized. The dialect was different, but that sounded like an old holy book.

"Are you a priest?" she asked in some surprise.

They smiled. "You don't think a person of faith can be a rebel?"

"You are only the second priest of my acquaintance," Liris said, "but if the current trend continues, I will have to begin assuming that all priests must be in the business of undermining the powerful for the sake of their charges."

She'd been aiming for a laugh there, but the priest nodded thoughtfully. "There is some truth to that, I think. At least among those of us devoted to serving faithfully, be that our gods or our callings or our flocks. In Theiraos, the government is unwilling to bear any checks or challenges at all. You are not likely to meet many priests here, but those of us who remain are all rebels of necessity."

Far easier for a person under duress to betray their faith than to keep it.

The priest was waiting expectantly for a response, and finally Liris said, "I understand both sides of that dilemma better than I'd like. But it seems to me that very dedication should make you more resistant to demons, not less, so clearly I don't understand something."

"Ah." The priest nodded. "Serenthuar must do most of its training with books. I imagine what you're missing is the consideration of people's lives. Not in a distant, top-down view of numbers, but what it means to live."

Liris hadn't really expected them to have an answer to that.

She closed her eyes; breathed. Opened them: listened.

"Before the Sundering," they said, "Theiraos was, geographically, much larger. As were most realms. We had miles of coast along an ocean. The paintings that survive from those days will break your heart with the clear beauty of them, particularly contrasted with the viscous residue that coats anyone who passes through our cities now. And those cities are the only way most people can live it all."

"I am from Serenthuar," Liris said impatiently. "You don't have to convince me that the Sundering had consequences. But Theiraos, like every other realm that has ever existed, had bad governments before that, too."

"So it did," the priest said. "So it may again. But in this age, we are unprecedentedly constrained by our borders. When guarding a single portal is all it takes to trap your citizens, we too easily become hostages. The very land that sustained us has been sundered from us. In any age, as you say, there has always been difficulty, injustice. But once, we were not constrained in these ways. People had more options. They could leave. They could try their hand at other ways of living and doing and being."

"Could they truly? What was once an accident of geographical constraint is now an accident of magical constraint," Liris pointed out. "Redistributed differently, I grant you, but it was never fair to begin with."

"But what if it could be?"

That wasn't the priest. Liris glanced in the other direction, where Chaeheen had shouldered in among her guard-circle.

"What if," the priest said softly, "we could save all our people in this lifetime from the cages they're confined in? What if we could give them not all the choices in the world, but more of them, freer of constraints? Is that an idea you can understand?"

Liris' mouth opened; shut.

"Your problem," the leader said fervently, snapping Liris' spell pad closed, "is that you dream too small. On our current path, the rebels will fail, and Theiraos will stamp out its own people's spirits for generations. We have to be willing to take bold action, or we'll fail our people. We have to be willing to dream of a new and better world in order to create it."

Liris understood that Jadrhun hadn't had to work to convince these people at all. They had done the work for him.

"Some risks," she said, "are worth taking. And some costs are too high."

Chaeheen's passionate expression closed. "And you don't get to decide that for us." She jerked her head at the priest. "Stop talking to her now. She won't see."

The awful part was, she did. They believed they were as right as Liris did, that they were fighting to save lives. Liris understood now how they remained on different sides, and she didn't know how to bridge that.

Or rather, she might, and Chaeheen did too, which was why she'd just shut the priest down.

If they couldn't communicate, they couldn't tell Liris any more she might be able to find a way to use.

She hoped that theory comforted Chaeheen, but only because it might recover Liris some element of surprise after all.

The rebels brought them to a fascinating connected system of caverns shaped by people in ages past. Liris would have loved to explore them under any circumstance, but under this one there was no possibility Chaeheen would allow it.

She bit back her disappointment. Maybe she would have a chance again someday, in caves whose secrecy wasn't a matter of survival.

Liris imagined exploring a cave system with Vhannor with no urgency, just for fun, and had to shake her head rapidly to dispel the image. The unlikelihood she'd ever have that kind of freedom hurt too much to contemplate.

Eventually they were left alone—but, unexpectedly, together—in a cell encased with spell protections, the first of which was that any tampering from inside would register an alert. The cell was lined with harder stone than the caves were naturally made of on all sides but one, where a grid of interlocking metal rods served as window, door, and wall. Nothing that could easily be carved into. She wasn't sure who could be listening, so planning an escape out loud was unwise.

There were nonverbal languages they could communicate with, however.

Liris ran through a mental repertory. The light was dim, so she went and sat next to Vhannor and took his hand, then painstakingly tapped out against his palm, Why did they leave us together?

And as a distraction in case, aloud, she asked, "So. Since we can't do anything else, is now a good time for sex?"

Vhannor snorted. "I doubt the guard went that far, and I'm not into voyeurism. Besides, I'm old enough to want a bed."

Liris sighed dramatically.

And all the while he replied: Few places can hold a caster like us. Liris felt a thrill of satisfaction that he'd understood immediately. Chaeheen can't be sure how much you can do without me. Avoid communicating like this as much as possible, so no one will realize in time. I've worked with Chaeheen before. There will be a listening spell somewhere.

Liris subsided. She wasn't sure yet how they'd be getting out, but Vhannor reclaimed his hand to snake an arm around behind her, gathering her into his side. She leaned into him, noting he didn't seem tense at all for a person on an urgent mission who'd been captured by a competent team.

With anyone else, she'd have been suspicious. With Vhannor, she assumed that meant he had a plan, and he'd read her in when he could.

Maybe Liris wouldn't ever get her cavern adventure with him, but she'd revel in this unexpected certainty with all the time she had.

She let out a breath, releasing her tight focus, letting her thoughts wander until Vhannor asked her softly, "What are you thinking about?"

Did he really have to ask? "Understanding," Liris said. "Connections."

His head turned slightly, though not far, since she was using his shoulder as a pillow. "I admit I thought you would have some thoughts on... captivity. Traps. Given your history."

"Understanding what they're trying to accomplish and why makes more of a difference than I expected," Liris admitted. "Normally the ‘how' is most evident to me. I suppose that's backwards from most people."

"You never do look at things quite the way people expect," Vhannor agreed dryly.

"Neither does Jadrhun," Liris said. "Could he be right?"

"No." His voice was firm.

Liris waved her free hand. "Bear with me. Hypothetically, could it be possible to restore the world to what it was before the Sundering, and we're expending all this effort to thwart the first step toward restoring cosmic justice?"

"Hypothetically, it's impossible to know for sure—for anyone to know for sure—which is exactly the problem," Vhannor said. "Jadrhun has no way to test what he wants to do, which means he's willing to risk actual lives for the possibility of success. What cost would be acceptable to justify that, to qualify as ‘right'? What number of lives is low enough to make it worth the risk?"

None, of course none. Liris frowned, poking at this from another angle, testing her own conviction and gods, what a relief to know she could test herself against him. "Success would mean saving lives though, wouldn't it? Don't we risk our lives to save people?"

"We choose to," Vhannor said. "No one has consented to what Jadrhun's trying to do."

"Some governments have," Liris pointed out. "We can say all we like that people might not agree with that decision, but governments make decisions for their people as a whole. That's what they do."

"That's a false equivalence, and you know it's a false equivalence. If governments, particularly the more democratic ones, believed they were doing what was best and responsible, they'd be attempting to leverage it for political gain, not hiding it from their own people."

"They might. If they didn't think people would understand, or would object—"

"Exactly."

"You've told me before that one advantage of your position is you don't have to get approval from people who are short-sighted or might make your work more difficult. "

"Risking people's lives should be difficult," Vhannor said. "It should require thought and thorough examination. Governments have a responsibility to their people, and if that's what were going on here, they would make arrangements for their people to evacuate in case Jadrhun is wrong. The only people present during this gargantuan experiment would be fully informed volunteers. They would be trained in possible contingency plans, contingency plans would exist, and if the government wasn't doing a sufficient job to look out for their interests, people would be aware enough to protest and demand better. But there is no regulation, because there is no attempt to look out for actual, living people. That's why, even if what Jadrhun believes is theoretically possible, he and his plans are still in the wrong."

Liris was quiet for a moment. All true, and yet—the pieces of the pattern were coming together for her, finally, late. Jadrhun had wanted to do something that mattered. He'd been, for many intents and purposes, alone, and no one would help him.

All of a piece. The what, the why.

"What about the people who were lost in the Sundering?" Liris asked. "Did anyone look out for them?"

Vhannor's arm around her tightened slightly, and there was a note of frustration in his voice when he said, "You think Jadrhun has convinced himself he's justified in doing whatever it takes, because otherwise rules might prevent him? Rules should prevent him."

"No, I agree," Liris said. She squeezed him gently, hoping that was enough to communicate she wasn't actually trying to make Jadrhun's case. Always a risk of misunderstanding—on both sides—what a hypothetical question really meant. "I just... have some sympathy for having big ideas and believing you can do something, and systems preventing you from even trying."

"That's not the same either," Vhannor growled. "Serenthuar limited you, but Jadrhun is going to kill people."

"I know," Liris said. "But I bet he would think it feels the same."

Vhannor thudded his head back against the stone wall. His tone was exasperated. "You're trying to understand him? It won't help you convince him to change, Liris. That spell has already been cast."

"You know, now that I know how dispelling works, that idiom seems much stranger than it used to."

Vhannor looked at her seriously. "Don't lighten this. You don't have to empathize with someone who's trying to hurt you."

"Is it possible to convince a person they should want to change if you can't empathize with them? No, sorry, let me say this clearly: that's not actually what I'm trying to do. I'm not planning to try to change Jadrhun's mind, or mine."

"Then what?"

"If I can understand what drives him to make his choices, I might be able to predict them faster. If I understand the patterns of his thinking, maybe I will more easily understand the patterns of his spells. If I understand what he's trying to accomplish, and why, I'm in a better position to understand how, and in so doing how to stop him. If I understand the differences between where we draw our lines, I'm more able to identify those differences, to adapt to his methods on the fly, because he won't give me time to stop and think it through. So I'm doing my thinking in advance. I can understand exactly why and how he is wrong, so when I am put on the spot I can focus on acting, not thinking."

"You're using this time to prepare." Vhannor managed to sound at once amused and relieved and like he wanted to punch the stone wall.

"If Serenthuar trained me in one thing," Liris said dryly, "it's how to prepare my mind for stressful situations."

The door of their cell swung outward.

Liris stared at it, perplexed. That she had not been prepared for.

Vhannor appeared to have expected it, though, as he pulled her to her feet, motioned her for silence, and strode out as if they were just going about their normal business.

The priest waited in the hallway. They faced their spell pad out for the two of them to see—a variant of the spell they'd used to pass undetected in Tellianghu's halls.

At Vhannor's nod, the priest cast it, and said, "The protections of this place won't register anything amiss with my spellcraft. I'll return your pads to you once we're outside. Follow me."

"I have questions," Liris said.

"You listened to me earlier," the priest said, "so I listened to you."

"That's it? You're betraying your people just because—"

The priest whirled, and the look they turned on Liris was so fierce she froze. "I betray nothing," they whispered furiously. "If we are willing to sacrifice everything, we cannot be the change we need. We need great change, but that demands greater consideration. Not shortcuts from the outside."

"Chaeheen won't understand that," Vhannor said.

They turned back to the front; not a disagreement, exactly. "She's tired of all the suffering. But I think she will. Nevertheless, her soul is my responsibility. Your responsibility clearly lies elsewhere."

"Wait," Liris said.

"No," the priest and Vhannor said together.

She rolled her eyes, not actually slowing down as she pointed an accusing finger at Vhannor. "That was your whole plan? For me to speak my mind honestly and hope someone's mind could be changed who would let us out, rather than our having to break out?"

"‘Whole' is not quite the word," he said evasively, which she took to mean it was voiding close to it.

And then she'd gone off on sympathizing with Jadrhun—that's why he'd been getting frustrated. "Vhannor! Why didn't you stop me?!"

"Because I can't expect people to make good decisions if they don't have all the information."

Liris glared at him. "Are you an imposter?"

His glance back at her was full of dark humor. "Maybe I'm coming around to the idea that if you had more information, you'd be more likely to make decisions that don't give me heart attacks."

She fought back a smile. "I wouldn't count on it."

Wryly, Vhannor said, "I don't."

Ha.

Then he continued more quietly, "You're always going to leap. I just have to hope that I can be a source of safety for you that doesn't smother you. So that you'll remember—and want—to come back."

Her throat tightened. "I will," she whispered.

Vhannor smiled at her fleetingly, clearly not believing her. Like he wanted to, but didn't quite.

Liris didn't know how to explain the bone-deep sense of certainty she'd had with him this whole adventure that she could count on him no matter what; the sense of certainty when he stopped her that he was only doing so to enable her to do more when it mattered. Not to trap her; never to limit her.

"Be quiet for a minute, if you wouldn't mind," the priest said idly, like they hadn't just been privy to an extremely private exchange. Liris flushed slightly, even though Vhannor had started it. They came to a stop just inside a back exit to the cave. "I need to concentrate on this patch of spells, and then you'll be all set. Your belongings are over there."

So they were. Liris tried to occupy herself throwing her cloak back on first, something in her easing at its return. She pursed her lips against the need to erupt at Vhannor how badly she wanted to come back to him after every adventure, during every adventure, when he poked her.

She glanced down, saw that he was holding something that hadn't been in his pack, that somehow the rebels who'd searched them hadn't managed to take off of him.

He pressed it into her hand.

It was a small disc: metal. Maybe that was why they hadn't taken it from him—it was difficult to engrave.

It was engraved, though, and abruptly Liris remembered their conversation so soon after they'd met—gods, only weeks ago?—how he'd explained love tokens to her. A common gift. One she'd promised not to scorn.

This was no spell, though, nor a cheap trinket. Her breath caught.

In as many languages as the small, simple circle could hold, it read, Love and adventure, together forever.

Liris couldn't make out Vhannor's expression, backlit as he was against the waning light outside. The tears blurring her vision didn't help matters. She wasn't sure whether to curse or thank him for waiting until a moment she wasn't supposed to say anything to hand it to her.

He'd kept it with him the whole time.

"That's it," the priest announced, handing them each their spell pads and, miraculously, their skimmers. Liris clutched hers convulsively, a lifeline. "You're free to go."

No.

"Wait," Liris said more firmly.

Vhannor was already moving, tossing her pack to her. "We should put as much distance between us and here as we can before someone notices we're not where we should be."

"The last time I waited to talk to you about our feelings I learned there's no sense waiting for a hypothetical ‘right' time, and I should never assume it can wait."

Vhannor didn't pretend not to remember what she was talking about—firestorm, provoking a Forgotten priest, memorable stuff—but he didn't stop moving. "I'm not sure that's exactly the right lesson to take from that."

Liris planted her feet. "Vhannor. I want to stand by you all my days, I mean to have as many as I can seize, and you clearly still doubt me. So right now, would you feel more secure about me if we got married?"

Thatstopped him in his tracks. Vhannor turned to stare at her, jaw actually dropped. He tried to speak and just sputtered.

Liris pointed. "We have a priest right here."

The priest stared at her, very nearly as agog as Vhannor, but with increasing amusement.

"We can't just get married," Vhannor said, his voice sounding strangled.

"You could," the priest put in, their eyes twinkling, "though it would have to be very quick."

"Do you not want to marry me?" Liris asked. "Just to clarify."

His face turned very red.

She murmured to the priest, "That's an encouraging color, right?"

"On the Lord of Embhullor, after being proposed to? Oh, certainly."

Vhannor threw up his hands, bowed to the priest, and then grabbed Liris' hand. "We are not talking about this here. Let's go."

"Blessings on your journey together," the priest called lightly. Vhannor made a rude gesture over his shoulder, and Liris heard them snickering before she and Vhannor had cast their augment spells and flown out of earshot.

However, days of drilling Liris on magic lore meant she could now easily navigate the skimmer and press him on a conversation at the same time.

"Are you mad at me?" she asked, beginning to worry slightly that she'd misstepped in a different way.

Vhannor looked at her, rubbed his eyes, looked at her again. "You'd think by now I'd be used to you never thinking in a way I think you will," Vhannor managed.

"Not what I asked. Not an answer to any of what I asked."

"No, I'm not mad. I do wish you had... brought this up privately."

"Oh," Liris said, waving the love token in his face, "like you gave me this privately?"

His jaw set. "That wasn't intended to obligate you."

"I don't know how many more ways I can find to tell you," Liris growled, "that I am in favor of being obligated. Do you want to marry me or don't you?"

"That's not the point."

"It's a lot of the point! If you don't want to, you could at least say so—"

"Stop."

Liris took him at his word and slowed immediately, casting around for a threat.

She turned back to Vhannor just in time for him to catch her and kiss her so fiercely Liris felt like her entire being was spell-augmented.

Soaring in more ways than one.

When they finally separated, Vhannor still held her face in his hands, looking deep into her eyes with all that intensity she loved and said hoarsely, "I want to marry you, Liris. More than almost anything. You never need to doubt that."

Liris took a deep, shaky breath. "Okay, then—"

"But haphazardly? No."

Her eyebrows lifted. "Not even married by a rebel while we're on a secret mission? I thought that was romantic."

"No," Vhannor growled. He leaned back, putting space between them. "I'm sorry. We have to keep moving. I just—"

"I'm willing to be stopped for kisses," Liris said, "especially such... clarifying ones. Though maybe less implication of imminent attack next time?"

She picked up speed again, not really sure what was going on between them anymore, and moments later Vhannor was flying alongside her.

"We haven't talked about what either of us would want in a ceremony, let alone a marriage, but you deserve more than a wedding on the side of the road," Vhannor told her. "You deserve a public wedding where it is clear to everyone—and especially you—that you deserve more than being hidden away, that I am honored and awed to be seen to stand with you."

Oh. "Also romantic," Liris allowed, "but I don't need that from you. Or—well, I got that at the ball in Tellianghu, didn't I?"

"Where we were there under false pretenses, letting everyone wonder what our relationship was? No, no you did not."

"You were willing to present me as your partner," Liris said. "That was enough. And it's sweet of you to want wonders for me, but that's not what I care about here."

"It's not just that," Vhannor said. "I don't want you to feel pressured—"

"Oh gods, not this again, Vhann—"

"—by time. There's so much happening now. You don't want a ball, fine, but you should get to have a wedding whichever way you want it, with your choices unconstrained."

Hmm. "And if what I want is quickly on the side of the road?"

Vhannor reddened again, but his voice was firm. "Then we'll find another rebel priest."

"Not like that one."

"Later," he growled, "once we've talked about what we both want, because marriage should not be a surprise."

Liris narrowed her eyes. "Just because I'm inexperienced doesn't mean I don't know what I want."

"That's not what I meant."

"There are few other ways to take it," Liris said. "Because if it's not that I don't know what I want, then if you're not sure about me and need more time—"

"That's not it."

"—to accept that I am sure about you, that really truly is fine, Vhannor. I don't want to push you into something you're not sure of any more than you'd want that for me. But let's be clear: any delay isn't for my sake."

She watched him search for words. "It's... not just the wedding. It's marriage. It's what life you want for yourself, and what I want, and what it would mean for us. My duty has always been my whole life, and I am trying to make space for more, but it will never not be important to me."

"I know that, Vhannor," Liris said. "From the first day we met, I've known that. And I told you then I wanted more, and that hasn't changed. Love and adventure, together forever? That sounds perfect."

He sucked in a breath, swallowed. Managed: "Liris, I don't want to trap you in my duty."

Liris smiled and reached out a hand. She loved this man to pieces, even if he was particularly dense on this point. "It's not a trap if I choose it for myself, Vhann. And I could only ever choose a course for my life that matters to me. That's who I am."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Opened them, and matched her speed exactly, placing his hand on hers. Perfectly in sync.

"Yes," he said, and now his eyes were shining with tears. "Yes, it is."

Void it, if she kept looking at him she was going to cry again, or injure them both by yanking him into a kiss, but she couldn't look away.

"I don't know what you thought I meant when I told you I would stay with you," Liris said. "Did this really never occur to you?"

Vhannor winced. "If you think I haven't been overanalyzing that for weeks, you don't know me as well as I think you do. I just... you're sure. You would really give me this. I believe you, and yet—"

Okay, she could look away long enough to roll her eyes. "I'm not a gift, or an asset, any more than you are. I'm a person."

"Your love is a gift."

"Well, you already have that, marriage or no marriage," Liris said, then turned back to him fiercely. "I can't promise to not die. But I can promise if there is any way in the universe to live and stay by your side, I will do everything in my power to find it, and I won't give up. So. Will you marry me?"

"Oh, I will marry you." His gaze heated up; Liris' breath quickened. "When we get through this, I will do more than that."

When, not if. "Oh? And what comes after marriage?"

Vhannor grinned at her. "You'll find out."

Liris felt her skin warming even as she said, "I'm fairly certain we don't have to wait for marriage for that."

His grin widened. "Very true. However, rushed on the side of the road without even a bed is not what you deserve for that either."

"This is very much a you thing again," Liris said.

"I also deserve better than to have to rush through everything I've imagined with you."

"Surely we both deserve a preview, at least," Liris murmured. "Keeping morale up, you know."

"I'll see what I can do to raise your expectations," Vhannor said.

"Not to put too fine a point on it, but I was raised in near-seclusion and don't have any expectations for you to disappoint?"

Vhannor nodded. "I know. That's part of what I mean. You deserve to have expectations. Of me, of the world. Of your life. I don't think you'll change your mind about me once we have sex—gods, I hope not—but nevertheless. You had so many years of so few options, I want you to know what you want and choose it for yourself. I want you to be happy, Liris."

If she weren't hurtling to her possible death right now, she wasn't sure she could be happier.

"So," she said, "that's a no to in-case-we're-about-to-die-and-never-get-another-chance sex, then?"

Liris was worried for a moment he'd take that the wrong way and think she was planning on dying again, but he murmured, "Still with such low expectations of me. You think you'd be satisfied with only the time we have left to the border?"

Liris blinked. "Oh, I had expected too little. I'd been thinking one night, not marathon traveling sex. You're right, but also you've been holding out on the sex spells."

Vhannor struggled not to laugh. "Yes. We'll need all our strength for the battle ahead."

Liris sighed. "Added incentives to live, then."

He lost his battle and laughed out loud, and Liris joined him, and soon both of them were laughing too hard to continue flying for a little while.

When Vhannor kissed her again, Liris tried to hold onto this moment, focusing on every detail of sensation, trying not to think about how few she might have left.

She was with him, saving the world. That was everything she wanted.

But just a taste, and she'd grown greedy. She wanted everything without limit. Forever.

If she could grasp it.