No telephone poles, no roads other than dirt paths, no buildings yet, no airplanes flying overhead to blow it for this look of Eden. And the air was clean, no smoke or pollutants floating on any of the horizons. Where on earth had they found such a place?

And then she saw the three airobuses, sitting on a paved landing pad, and what looked like a winding road leading up the mountain. They were too close to the mountain to see the town of Sha-Ka-Ra, which sat halfway up it, or so she was told.

"Are we going to walk up it?" she asked.

"My father has arranged transportation."

"Where?"

He took her hand and led her around the airobus that had been blocking a bit of the view. A small herd of hataari were now visible, about forty of them standing placidly off to the side of the pad. Some of the warriors were already mounting them; others standing there showed her just how big the beasts were, when their heads were barely a foot above the animals' backs, which meant those backs had to be as high off the ground as Brittany was tall. They were shaggy-haired, most of them black, a few brown, one tan, but all with white manes and tails that nearly reached the ground. Thin legs, extra-wide bodies, too wide to be horses-perhaps what prehistoric horses might have looked like? But even that was pushing it. They were like horses, but nothing like horses.

They were so funny-looking with their long shaggy coats, she started to laugh. They had to be made-up, Clydesdale horses probably-didn't they get that tall? But someone's imagination had really gone wild in the creation of their costumes. The padding for the extra-wide trunks was a weird touch; it just made them look silly.

"What amuses you?" Dalden asked as he led her to one of the hataar and tossed her up on its back.

The suddenness of being on top of one of those things ended her amusement. There was no saddle, just a blanket covering its back and a harness contraption with reins and a post for gripping, which she did now while Dalden mounted behind her.

"Sure," she said, disgruntled. "Don't give me a chance to find the zipper on this costume."

His arms came around her, pulled her back against him. That easily did she relax and put aside her brief annoyance. He didn't ask her to explain, though if he were for real, he wouldn't have understood her remark. Martha did.

"I'm disappointed in you, doll," came the voice at her hip.

"You know you're reaching now, grabbing at crumbs to explain away the obvious."

"Your obvious is so far-fetched, it's gone beyond silly now. If anyone's disappointed, I am. I expected better after such meticulous details on your spaceship."

"Hasn't it occurred to you that there's no choice in the matter of what's real? Yes, they are visually silly-looking. I've seen the animals you have in comparison that are sleek and beautiful. Not every world is so lucky in their beasts of burden. Believe it or not some worlds have hataar-like creatures even more silly-looking than these."

"Sure, and I own a fantastic bridge I'll be glad to sell you."

"This habit you have of saying things you do not mean must end, kerima."

Brittany stiffened at Dalden's serious tone, but she caught her breath when Martha said, "Heads up, girl. He's home now and starting to sound like a warrior."

Brittany swung around to give Dalden a hard look. "What'd she mean by that?" No answer from him. "Martha, why'd you make warrior sound like a bad name?" No answer from that quarter, either, which caused her temper to erupt. "Damnit upside and down, don't you people dare spring any surprises on me at this late date! Have I fallen in love with a man who's only shown me half of himself? Is the other half some monster I'm going to hate?"

Dalden's expression softened, probably because she'd just admitted she loved him for the first time. She hadn't meant to own up to that yet. She didn't want it laid on the table if the end of the "project" wasn't going to be to her liking. But it was too late to take it back. She did love him-at least, she loved the man she'd come to know. But who was that? A man pretending to be an alien? A man so brainwashed he really believed he was an alien? Or a real alien who'd restrained his alien tendencies up until now, but now that he was home was going to release them? Just why were these people called barbarians?

Her barbarian put his hand to her cheek to draw her mouth to his. His kiss was soft, so tender. One of the things she loved so much about him was that despite his incredible size and strength, he was always so gentle with her. He wasn't a barbarian. No way in hell.

« ^ »

IT HAD BEEN A LONG TIME SINCE BRITTANY HAD BEEN SO embarrassed that all she wanted to do was hide her face. Dalden was almost purring with satisfaction. He'd managed to distract her so thoroughly she forgot what they'd been arguing all bout, forgot that she should be watching things around her, forgot she was on the back of an animal and other people were riding along beside them.

He was proud that he could do that to her. He'd turned that sweet kiss into a raging inferno of passion-at least on her part. She'd turned all the way around to face him, her legs spread and laying over his, clinging to him, devouring him, lost in the moment…

Until Martha's voice intruded dryly, "I could have sworn you were interested in architecture."

Kodos, riding next to them, was chuckling at Brittany. Shanelle, on the other side riding double with Falon, rolled her eyes at her. Thank heavens their parents were sharing an hataar up ahead and hadn't noticed, or her mortification would have been absolute.

She hissed at Dalden, "If I thought that was deliberate, you'd be in big trouble."

He was seriously amused, if his grin was an indication. "Define big trouble."

"For starters," she said, stabbing a finger against his wide chest, "never speaking to you again."

"That would not be allowed," he said simply.

"Would not-!" she choked, unable to finish. "To paraphrase Martha, wanna bet? And don't think you can tease your way around it. They don't come much more stubborn than an Irish American, which I happen to be. Stubborn is often our middle name."

"I thought your middle name was Tomboy."

"Oh, cute, real cute. Pretend you don't know what the hell I'm talking about."

He disagreed. "You are telling me it is your nature to be stubborn. This is the nature of most women, so warriors expect it and find it amusing."

"Why amusing?"

"Because it is not a thing women succeed at very well-here."

"You might want to readjust that statement a little bit to include, until now."

He chuckled, then hugged her, then explained why he was suddenly so pleased with her responses. "You-and Martha-insist that you are different because you were not born here, but truly, kerima, your reaction to an unwanted lesson is no different from that of a Sha-Ka'ani woman."

She pushed out of his arms, narrowed her eyes on him. "Lesson? just what were you trying to teach me there? That if I do or say something you don't like, you'll embarrass the hell out of me?''

"It was not meant to embarrass you."

"Then what was I meant to feel?"

"Exactly what you did feel."

What she'd felt was raw passion and a desire to make love with him right then and there. "I don't get it."

He didn't respond, which managed to infuriate her enough to say, "Martha, you and I are going to have a long talk before the end of the day, and you're coming clean this time."