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less than two paces away, and Dirk freed an arm to take Talia’s nearer hand in his own.
    Kris thought he’d never seen a human face look so exactly like a stunned ox’s.
    * * * *
    Talia met the incredible blue of Dirk’s eyes with a shock. It felt very much as if she’d been struck by lightning. She came near to trembling when their hands touched, but managed to hold to her self-control by a thin thread and smiled at him with lips that felt oddly stiff.
    “Welcome home, Talia.” That was all he said—which was just as well. The sound of his voice and the feeling of his eyes on her made her long to fling herself at him. She found herself staring at him, unable to respond.
     
    She looked a great deal different than he remembered; leaner, as if she’d been fine-tempered and fine-honed. She was more controlled—certainly more mature. Was there a sadness about her that hadn’t been there before? Was it some pain that had thinned her face?
    When he’d taken her hand, it had seemed as if something—he wasn’t sure what—had passed between them; but if she’d felt it, too, she gave no sign.
    When she’d smiled at him, and her eyes had warmed with that smile, he’d thought his heart was going to stop.
    The dreams he’d had of her all these months, the obsession—he’d figured they’d pop like soap bubbles when confronted with the reality. He’d been wrong. The reality only strengthened the obsession. He held her hand that trembled very slightly in his own, and longed with all his heart for Kris’ silver tongue.
     
    They stood frozen in that position for so long that Kris thought with concealed glee that they were likely to remain there forever unless he broke their concentration.
    “Come on, partner.” He slapped Dirk’s back heartily and remounted Tantris.
    Dirk jumped in startlement as if someone had blown a trumpet in his ear, then grinned sheepishly.
    “If we don’t get moving, we’re going to miss supper— and I can’t tell you how many times I dreamed of one of Mero’s meals on the road!”
    “Is that all you missed? Food? I might have known. Poor abused brother, did Talia make you eat your own cooking?”
    “Worse—” Kris said, grinning at her, “—she made me eat hers! ” He winked at her and punched Dirk’s arm lightly.
    When Kris broke the trance he was in, Dirk dropped Talia’s hand as if it had burned him. When Talia turned a gaze full of gratitude on Kris, presumably for the interruption, Dirk felt a surge of something unpleasantly like jealousy at the thanks in her eyes. When Kris included her in the banter, Dirk wished that it had been his idea, not Kris’.
    “Beast,” she told Kris, making a face at him.
    “Hungry beast.”
    “He’s right though, much as I hate to agree with him,” she said softly, turning to Dirk, and he suppressed a shiver—her voice had improved and deepened; it played little arpeggios on his backbone. “If we don’t hurry, you will be too late. It doesn’t matter too much to me—I’m used to sneaking bread and cheese from Mero—but it’s very unkind to keep you standing here. Will you ride up with us?”
    He laughed to cover the hesitation in his voice. “You’d have to tie me up to keep me from coming with you.”
    He and Kris remounted with a creak of leather, and they rode with Talia between them; that gave Dirk all the excuse he needed to rest his eyes on her. She gazed straight ahead or at Rolan’s ears except when she was answering one or the other of them. Dirk wasn’t sure whether he should be piqued or pleased. She wasn’t favoring either of them with a lot more attention than the other, but he began to wish very strongly that she’d look at him a little more frequently than she was.
    A dreadful fear was starting to creep into his heart. She had spent the past year and a half largely in Kris’ company. What if—
    He began scrutinizing Kris’ conduct, since Talia’s was giving him no clues. It seemed to confirm his fears.