“I am. Tell your mother thank you very much for her thoughtfulness,” said Haplo gravely.
Alake smiled, pleased to have pleased him. She was always doing something for him, bringing him food, small gifts, something she’d made herself. . . .
“You have upset your pallet. I will straighten it for you.”
She took a step forward. Haplo was walking toward the lodge entrance. Somehow, the two managed to collide. Before Haplo knew what was happening, soft arms encircled him, soft lips sought his, warmth and fragrance surrounded him.
Haplo’s body reacted before his brain could take control. He was half in the Labyrinth, still. The girl was more a part of his dream than reality. He kissed her hard, fiercely, his passion that of a man, forgetting he held a child. He pressed her close, started to draw her down on his pallet.
Alake gave a faint, scared gasp.
Haplo’s brain took charge, jerked him to his senses.
“Get out!” he ordered, thrusting Alake roughly away from him.
She stood, shivering, in the doorway, staring at him. She’d been unprepared for the ardence of his passion, perhaps unprepared for her own body’s response to what had before been maiden dreams and fantasies. She was frightened of him, frightened of herself. But she had come to know, suddenly, her own power.
“You love me!” she whispered.
“No, I don’t,” Haplo returned harshly.
“You kissed me . . .”
“Alake—” Haplo began, exasperated, then stopped.
He swallowed the cold, callous words he’d been ready to speak. It wouldn’t do to hurt the girl, who would almost assuredly go weeping to her mother. He couldn’t afford to offend the rulers of the Phondrans and, as much as it irritated him to admit it, he didn’t want to hurt Alake. What had happened had been his own damn fault.
“Alake,” he began again, lamely, “I’m too old. I’m not even your race . . .”
“Then what are you? You’re not elven or dwarven . . .”
I belong to people beyond your comprehension, child. A race of demigods, who might stoop to take a mensch for a toy, but would never take one for a wife.
“I can’t explain, Alake. But, you know I’m different. Look at me! Look at the color of my skin. My hair and eyes. And I’m a stranger. You know nothing about me.”
“I know all I need to know,” the girl said softly. “I know that you save my life . . .”
“You saved mine.”
She drew nearer, her eyes warm and glowing. “You are brave, the bravest man I’ve ever known. And handsome. Yes, you are different, but that is what makes you special. And you may be old, but I am old, too, for my years. Boys my own age bore me.”
She reached out for him. Haplo kept his hands at his sides.
“Alake,” he said, able at last to think rationally, saying what he should have said in the first place, “your parents would never approve.”
“They might,” she faltered.
“No.” Haplo shook his head. “They will repeat everything that I have said to you. They would be angry and they would have a right to be angry. You are a royal daughter. Your marriage is very important to your people. You have responsibilities. You must marry a chieftain or a chieftain’s son. I’m nobody, Alake.”
She drooped. Her head bowed, her shoulders shook. Tears glimmered on her lashes. “You kissed me,” she murmured.
“Yes, I couldn’t help myself. You are very beautiful, Alake.”
She lifted her head, looked at him, her heart in her eyes. “There will be a way. You will see. The One will not keep two who love each other apart. No,” she said, raising a hand, “you need have no fear. I understand, and I will not tell my father or my mother. I will say nothing of this to anyone. It will be our secret, until the One shows me how we may be together.”
She gave him a soft, tremulous kiss on his cheek, then turned and fled from his lodge.
Haplo stared after her, frustrated, angry at her, at himself, at the absurd circumstances that had dumped him into this situation. Would she keep her word, say nothing to her parents? He considered going after her, but he had no idea what he’d say. How could he tell her that he hadn’t been kissing her, that he’d been kissing a memory conjured by his surroundings, the hunt, the dream?