The duke scowled, glancing to the side, probably at the women, then nodded reluctantly. “He shall go. After all, he knows very little.”
Desiree’s voice cried out with delight, and the other women cheered with her. Cort felt massive relief, then remembered and frowned at Dirk and Gar. What had they hidden from him?
Nothing, he realized. He had heard them talking openly about the Hollow Hill, but hadn’t understood a word of it.
“Thank heaven for that,” Dirk sighed. “You wouldn’t mind if we go as far as the portal to tell him good-bye, would you?”
The duke eyed him suspiciously, but said, “I see no harm in that—though I warn you, it will only delay your long sleep for the half of an hour.”
“I’ll take every minute I can get!” Dirk said. “Up, then, and out!” the duke slashed an arm toward the stairway.
Desiree ran up to take Cort’s arm, babbling with excitement. “You are saved, then! Luck is with us! You would find me not at all attractive in twenty years, for you would still be as young as you are now! ”
“I will always find you to be beautiful,” Cort said fervently.
Desiree blushed and lowered her gaze. “In twenty years I will be … more bulky, and my face will have its first few faint lines.”
“You’ll still be graceful, and as beautiful as all the songbirds of the skies together—no, far more beautiful!”
They went up the stairs, with Cort heaping compliments on Desiree, and with her drinking them in, flashing him occasional looks that heated his blood. When they came to the airlock, and the duke pressed the patch that made the outer hatch swing open, Desiree pulled back on Cort’s arm, pleading with the duke. “May I not keep him an hour longer?” The glance she gave Cort made it clear what she wanted to do with that hour, and weakened his knees.
“If this coil with his friends had not risen, I would have said yes,” the duke said severely, “but since it has, we must bid him good-bye on the instant!”
“But when shall I hold him again?” Desiree wailed.
“On Midsummer’s Eve. You may catch him up in our rout, as we journey to Rondel’s Hill,” the duke snapped.
Desiree cried out with delight and flung her arms around Cort’s neck. He folded her in his arms, savoring the feel of her body against his for a minute, before she stepped away and said, “On Midsummer’s Eve, be waiting in this meadow, near the pathway into the wood!”
“I shall,” Cort promised with all his heart. “He must go now,” the duke said testily. Desiree held tight to Cort’s arm, protesting, “But he should not go alone!”
“No, he certainly shouldn’t,” Dirk said, and stamped on the foot of the man holding his right arm.
The Fair Man howled, hopping back and letting go. Dirk drove his left elbow into the belly of the man holding his left arm, then spun away, lashing out a kick at the Fair Man who sprang to bar his way.
Gar leaped backward and swung his arms forward, slamming his two captors into one another. He kicked their feet out from under them.
The duke roared with anger and drew his sword. Dirk’s foot caught his opponent in the belly, and he leaped over the falling body, sprinting toward the portal. “Out, Cort! Quickly!”
The duke’s sword flicked out at Dirk, but he was too late, only managing to rip the back of his tunic as he dove out the door. Cursing, the duke spun to lunge at Gar. The big man twisted aside, grunting as the swordpoint grazed his hip, then swung a backhanded fist at the duke’s hand. Something cracked; the duke howled, dropping his sword. Gar caught it as he plunged through the portal.
He landed rolling and came to his feet to see Dirk and Cort sprinting for the woods ten yards ahead of him. He started after them, thundering down the slope of the hill.
Cort’s heart raced as he ran, wondering why he was in such a hurry to leave the hill that held all he had ever desired. But loyalty won over love; Desiree was safe, after all, but Dirk and Gar were not.
A thunderclap split the air behind him. He ran all the harder, not daring to look back. What magic were the Fair Folk using against them now? He dodged and weaved frantically, trying to be completely unpredictable—and must have succeeded, for a bright ray sizzled past him on his right, setting the grass afire. Shouts of rage echoed behind him with more flashes of light.
Then, somehow, he was in among the trees with Dirk still beside him. Dirk dropped behind, and Cort led the way, pelting down the path until the trees grew so thick that he couldn’t see ahead anymore and had to halt, leaning against a tree and breathing like a bellows.
Something light and bright flitted between the trees. Cort straightened, hand on his sword, but a warm body flung itself into his arms, and moist full lips found his. He stood stiff a moment in sheer surprise, then melted to wrap his arms around her, for it was Desiree whom he held.
Finally he had to breathe. He leaned away from her, still gazing down into those wondrous, lustrous eyes—and saw Gar looming over them. His gaze leaped up to the giant. “How did you manage to come here so quickly?”
“Long legs,” Gar answered, but Cort wondered why he wasn’t panting as Dirk was. Of course, Cort was breathing hard, too, but for a different reason.
“You are safe for a few moments here,” Desiree told them. “They won’t use their light rays within the wood for fear of fire, and they’ll go slowly for fear of ambush.”
“You ran past them all to guard me!”
Desiree lowered her gaze. “They wouldn’t have dared shoot if I had stepped between you and them, but I had other reasons in mind.” She turned her face up again, but Gar coughed discreetly, and Dirk said, “I don’t think we have quite that long.”
Cort’s military sense came to the fore. He stepped away from Desiree, but held tightly to her hand. “I can’t believe we won a fight against Fair Folk—but that means our lives are forfeit, for they can’t have us going about among our fellow mortals bragging!”
“I fear he speaks truth,” Desiree said, huge eyes glowing in the gloom. “The Fair Folk will never rest now until they have tracked you down and slain you.” She spun, throwing her arms around Cort and pressing her head to his chest. “O my love, I am so horribly afraid for you! I shall plead on your behalf, but the duke is so enraged, and the Fair Men so jealous, that I doubt they shall heed me at all!”
Cort lifted her chin and gazed into her eyes. “Even if they slay me for this night’s joy, it’ll have been worth it ten times over.”
Desiree seemed to melt in his arms at the same time that she covered his mouth with her own for a long, long kiss—so long, in fact, that Gar finally had to lay a hand on the shoulder of each and part them, saying, “Enough, or the Fair Folk will be upon us before you two come up for air.”
“Don’t worry,” Cort told him, “I’ve just learned how to breathe while I kiss.” He started to lower his head again.
But Gar hauled him bodily away from Desiree. “You know, they’re not going to be terribly pleased with her, either, if they catch her kissing you just now.”
But Desiree lifted her head, looked about her, and said, “The gloom has lightened!”
Gar glanced around, realizing that he could actually make out individual tree trunks. “Is that good?”
“Yes! The false dawn is always our signal to go back inside the Hill! The Fair Folk have no liking for daylight.”
“That sounds like the beautiful people of my own ancestral asteroid,” Gar said, “though I suspect the reasons differ. Your folk aren’t afraid the sun will burn them, are they?”
“In fact, they are,” Desiree said. “Our skins are so fair that any sunlight at all will give us a painful burn in less than an hour. We only dare go abroad in daylight liberally smeared with an ointment that defeats the sun’s rays, and even then with broad-brimmed hats and full clothing.”