Irresistible Forces

'Ah, Vyrl, no, I didn't mean that.' She sounded as if she wanted to hide under a few boulders herself. 'I'm sorry. I'm bungling this terribly.'

'No. Don't say that.' He struggled to smile. 'It's all right.'

So they sat on their rock, gazing at the plains, trying somehow, someway, to find a common ground.

3

Gusts of wind tried to knock Vyrl off the castle wall. In the light of the two moons, which were both in the sky tonight, he climbed down from his window, hanging on to cracks in the stone. Despite the wind, sweat dribbled down his neck. He had on too many clothes, not only those he had worn earlier today when he met Devon but also a sweater and thicker boots. He had rolled up his cloak and tied it onto his pack, which he wore on his back. Altogether it made him hot, heavy, and clumsy. Even worse, it would make it harder to run if anyone saw him.

Finally his feet touched ground. He hunkered by the wall, hiding behind a cluster of bubble stalks in the garden. Then he checked his palmtop. The silvery sheet unrolled in his hand and lit up with holos, showing the house security system. Nothing had changed since he had turned off the alarms that guarded his room. It hadn't been difficult; the system was meant to keep prowlers out, not hold him inside.

Vyrl reset the system to hide his activities, then tucked the palmtop back into his pack and stood up, scanning the area.

He took off at a steady lope, headed for the starport.

Vyrl clung to the windowsill, praying he didn't fall and smash himself on the gravel two stories below. A night-triller sang in the distance, its musical call echoed by another triller farther away.

'Come on,' he muttered, scraping his fingernails over the recalcitrant window. 'Open, you bog-boil.'

With a protesting screech, the window abruptly swung inward. Vyrl froze. Gods, he was going to look stupid if someone caught him hanging here on the wall of a private home in the middle of the night. It had taken him longer than he expected to finish his business at the starport; it meant he hadn't reached here until well after midnight had passed in Lyshriol's twenty-eight hour day.

Mercifully, no one seemed to be out. This late at night, few people wandered these high, twisting lanes of Dalvador. No one came storming out of the house, and no one yelled from any other house to find out what was going on.

When the trillers began singing again, Vyrl breathed out in relief. He nudged the window wide open, grateful it made no more noise, and peered into the shadows beyond.

Moonlight silvered the room below. The cozy chamber looked as he remembered it, though years had passed since he had last been here. The bed was just below him, but even the screeching window hadn't awakened its occupant. Vyrl grinned. Lily had always slept like a rock; he had long suspected it had something to do with her rock-headed stubborn nature.

He let himself down into the room, gripping the sill as he slid lower. Then his feet touched the bed. Exhaling, he knelt next to the slumbering Lily, his head bent while he caught his breath. She murmured, turning restlessly. This time the surge in his pulse had nothing to do with a fear of being caught. He wanted to touch her, but he held back, having no idea how she would react when she discovered him kneeling in her bed.

Lily rolled onto her back and sighed, her eyes slowly opening. For a long moment she simply stared at him, her gaze fogged with sleep. Then she said, 'Vyrl?' She sounded as drowsy as she looked, warm and snuggled in her nest of blankets. The embroidered flowers on her white nightgown gleamed in the moonlight.

'It's me,' Vyrl said. For some reason the temperature in the room seemed to be rising. How different Lily made him feel, compared to the enigmatic, cool General Majda.

Her lips curved in the teasing smile she always used with him. 'You're a terribly misbehaved fellow, to climb in my window. I must yell and make a great fuss.'

'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,