He was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he plowed right into Kitarak's bulbous abdomen when the tohr-kreen stopped suddenly. He nearly fell over, but managed to catch himself on Kitarak's pack.

"Sorry," he said, blushing. "I wasn't watching where I was going."

"Obviously," Kitarak said. "Fortunately, I have been. We are entering flailer territory, so be on sharp lookout."

"What's a flailer?" Jedra asked.

Kitarak rasped his arms again. "How did you make it this far into the desert on your own? A flailer is a six-legged beast with a hard shell that looks like a rock. When it hears you coming, it positions itself near your path, pulls its legs and head inside its shell, and waits for you to stumble into its backside-excuse me, they seldom find prey that stupid, so flailers wait for their prey to approach and attack when it draws close enough."

Jedra blushed even harder. He hated looking like a fool in front of Kayan, especially now when he thought he might be in love with her.

She didn't seem to notice. "They look like rocks?" she asked. The land around them was littered with reddish-yellow rocks of all sizes, from gravel to ones as tall as Kitarak.

"Yes," said Kitarak. "Just like rocks. And don't let that fool you into thinking they're slow. They're not, and they have claws on all six legs, plus a beak that could rip your fleshy little throats out in a second."

Jedra looked beyond Kitarak. The land ahead looked no different than what they had been traveling through all afternoon: stones as far as the eye could see. What made this particular area so special? He could see no reason why a flailer-if such a beast existed-would prefer the stretch ahead of them to the one behind them. He was about to ask Kitarak how he knew when he thought of another explanation.

Maybe it was all flailer territory around here, and Kitarak had just spotted one. He seemed determined to test Jedra's and Kayan's abilities; maybe this was another trial.

Jedra focused on the path ahead of them. Was anything watching them from out there? Anything dangerous? He concentrated on a waist-high boulder a few hundred feet away. Nothing. Beyond that was a jumble, so he tried nearer to where he stood. How about that big one to the right, or that little one just in front of it? He moved his attention from rock to rock, getting nothing, nothing, nothing-something. And only thirty feet away or so!

He bent down and picked up a fist-sized rock in each hand. "Like that one?" he asked, then he flung one of the rocks over Kitarak's head toward the boulder with personality. The rock glanced off the side of it with a hollow thunk, and the boulder suddenly sprouted legs and a beaklike head on a long neck. It hissed angrily and took a step toward them, but when Jedra threw his second rock and whacked its shell again it backed away.

Kitarak made his rasping noise again. "Don't be too proud of yourself," he said. "It could have attacked us even at this distance."

"Then why did you stop so close to it?" Jedra asked. "You knew it was there."

The tohr-kreen shuffled from foot to foot, his pack squeaking madly. He obviously didn't want to answer. Had he planned to lead them past it and see what they did when it attacked? Jedra didn't like that thought. He picked up another couple of rocks and tossed them toward the flailer, careful not to hit it this time. He just wanted it to know they hadn't forgotten about it. It hissed again, then turned around and lumbered away.

Kitarak bobbed his head in an exaggerated parody of a nod. "Point taken," he said. "I will remember that." He began walking again, making a wide circle around the flailer.

The tohr-kreen was tireless. They stopped for a break only once that afternoon, just long enough to eat a few strips of dried z'tal meat and wash it down with a swallow of water, then didn't stop again until Jedra and Kayan finally called a halt long after sunset.

"We can't go any farther tonight," Kayan gasped, leaning against a rock for support. Jedra felt completely drained as well, worse than after a long convergence with Kayan.

"What?" Kitarak said indignantly. His tall, spiky body stood out in sharp silhouette against the night sky. "Certainly you may rest, but not all night. We have many miles to travel yet."

"We can do it in the morning," Kayan said. "Right now we're cold and tired and we need to sleep. Don't you?"

"Tohr-kreen do not sleep."

"Great. Well, humans do, and so do half-elves. You can stand guard."

Kitarak clicked and rasped in agitation, but it was obvious his traveling companions weren't going to move any more until they had rested. "Very well," he said. "Sleep then." He lowered his pack to the ground, removed the piece of tinkercraft he had recovered from the ruins, and began polishing its tarnished mirrors with a strip of cloth.

Jedra and Kayan found a low spot where a few inches of sand had filled in a hollow in the rock, and after making sure nothing else had claimed it ahead of them, they lay down to sleep. Kayan faced away from Jedra and pressed her back against him. He put his arms around her without prompting this time, even drew her close to him and folded his body alongside hers.

I never thought I'd say this about sleeping on the ground, but this feels wonderful, Kayan mindsent.

It does, Jedra replied.

I could sleep for a week. She paused, then added, Do you trust him to keep watch?

Jedra tried once again to sense any danger from the tohr-kreen, but he felt only the alien presence behind them. It was muted somehow-evidently Kitarak was already preoccupied with cleaning his treasure. When Jedra concentrated he felt an oddness to Kitarak's psionic impression, a sense of something more beneath the surface, but whatever it was, it didn't seem hostile.

I don't feel anything to worry about, Jedra said.

Good. I don't think I could do anything about it now even if you did. She tilted her head back. Good night.

Good night. They kissed. Her soft, warm lips drew all of Jedra's attention, and suddenly he felt himself slipping into convergence with her.

It flooded over them in a sudden rush of sensation, warming and tingling their entire bodies. They were no longer two people kissing; they were the kiss itself, a focus of energy swirling through that point of contact until their entire being existed only where their lips met.

Startled by the intensity of it, they pulled back. The link broke, but not with the devastating letdown of before. A far more primal connection was being forged. They paused with their lips just brushing, feeling each other's breath against their cheeks, tasting the delicious memory of the kiss.

Starlight twinkled in Kayan's eyes. "Wow," she whispered.

Jedra didn't trust himself to speak, not even with his mind. So he kissed her again.

Whether they mindlinked again or not, he couldn't say. There was no sudden transition, no moment of otherness-just an incredible rush of sensation and excitement.

Mmmm, Kayan sent. Just wait until I get you alone.

Jedra opened his eyes and looked at her. That almost sounds like a threat, he said.

She smiled mischievously. Considering what just happened, it might be.

He brushed her hair away from her neck and kissed her there. That's a risk I'd be willing to take.

Mmmm. Me, too. But not tonight. Not when we're already exhausted and with Kitarak watching.

Reluctantly, Jedra said, Yeah, you're probably right. I wish you weren't, though. He sighed and

lowered his head to rest on his arm. Kayan turned away and pressed her back against him again. Sweet dreams, she said. *****

He jerked awake with her snarl still in his ears. Another voice split the night: Kitarak shouting "Yeeahh!" in alarm.