Painfully, the Vulcan opened his eyes, staring through the red haze of fever to study the face which was poised less than an inch from his own. For a moment, he could almost believe her. And he knew now that he didfind her compelling, mentally stimulating … physically intriguing. And yet, logic dictated that those feelings were present simply because of his own shameful condition. He took a deep breath, letting the pain take him.

"I do not … do not know you," he lied to himself.

"Then you will," Thea promised. "And perhaps one day you may be able to forgive me for saving your life in this manner." Her words drifted away as she leaned down to kiss the parched lips, placing her hand once again on the side of his face. As the link deepened, however, she could no longer hold herself in the role of savior. She succumbed to hisneeds, histhoughts, hisdesires. "I have almost forgiven you for the incident with the cloaking device," she whispered. "Perhaps you can be as generous someday."

Unable to deny the raging inferno in body and mind, Spock slumped weakly into enemy arms. If he was to live, he told himself, this may be his sole alternative. But … even if he could forgive Thea, he did not know if he could ever forgive himselffor the imperative of pon farrwhich left no choice but to respond.

Clenching his mind tightly, he turned to the time phantom, trying not to let the salty fever-tears slip free.

Chapter Twenty-one

THE OVERVIEW OF the palace was no less spectacular than the Vulcan had expected; and though he found himself still anxious and nervous in Thea's presence, he knew that she was the sole reason he had survived. As the T'Favaroncircled low over the palace, he glanced down at the high stone walls and glowing force fields; inside the gates, row upon row of Romulan soldiers stood at attention, preparing to herald their Praetor's return.

As the T'Favaronfinally entered the landing pattern, Spock surveyed the various entrances to the huge quadrangle, mentally choreographing every possible escape. But even with the electrified iron bars which covered all doors leading into the palace itself, he suspected his main problem would be in finding his way to the outside at all. The palace was a maze of corridors, designed to be impassable by anyone who hadn't spent a lifetime learning the routes, secret passages and dead ends. But nonetheless, as he glanced at Thea, he realized he had one distinct advantage. Through the tenuous link with the Romulan, he could discern certain facts—among them what route she would take herself in the event she ever found it necessary to flee the palace walls.

As the ship touched down, engines purring to silence, Sarela rose from the command chair, exchanging glances with Thea before rising from the console. "Commander Tavor signals that the armies await inspection, my Lady," she said presently, "and that all is well within the palace."

Thea nodded, then turned to inspect the ceremonial robes which the Vulcan now wore. Her head tilted curiously as she stared into the dark, faceless entity behind the veils.

"An impressive sight, Spock," she said nonchalantly, feeling the now-constant resistance to the link as he rose to his feet and accompanied her to the surface doors. McCoy, S'Parva, and the rest of the slaves and advisers followed close behind.

Not surprised by the Vulcan's continuing silence, Thea smiled. "Since the Praetor acquires many new slaves, your being seen with Sarela and myself will not appear unusual to the soldiers. Should anyone question you, simply state that we are newly captured possessions." She paused, tone sobering. "Walk quickly through the soldiers, acknowledge no one other than the army's officers. Once we are safely inside the palace, Tavor will see to your safety personally."

"Tavor?" the Vulcan questioned, remembering the name.

"The head of the army," Thea explained. "He knows my plans well—and he will know who you really are. We contacted him from the Ravonlong before we came aboard your starship; and he has agreed to protect you from men such as Tazol." She shook her head gently. "But do not permit yourself to believe he will follow your orders over mine simply because you wear the robes. The army follows hiscommands; and should you be foolish enough to attempt to wield the power of your attire, you will not live long enough to bid farewell to your two friends."

The Vulcan straightened, muscles taut. "If I am injured," he stated logically, "your plans are ruined. And since it is obvious in your mind that you have no intention of ever releasing me or these two officers, I see no logical reason to proceed."

But a light came to Thea's eyes as she continued to study the hardened figure before her. "There isone thing which will hold your tongue forever in place if necessary," she reminded the Vulcan. "Your own blood still surges with hopes of accomplishing the impossible. You cannot deny that your mind houses some plan to defeat me. Your heritage and your honor will keep you alive long enough to do what must be done—for you cannot deny that you have stolen part of the truth from my own mind."

"Now wait a minute!" McCoy interrupted, taking a step forward. "I thought you said we were going to be released once this harebrained scheme of yours was finished!"

Turning to meet the accusing eyes, Thea inclined her head in acknowledgment. "And you trusted the word of a Romulan?" she asked pointedly. "Surely you realize that I cannot permit you to take proof of my true identity back to your Alliance. Even if peace results from this, there will always be those among my people who will not willingly abide by it. And while that may be true in anycase, I must know that I have the freedom to move among the people of the Empire without my identity being discovered."

McCoy's face reddened with anger. "Then what's the point?" he demanded. "If you come charging into the Alliance, kidnap two starship officers and demandto make peace—but still hold us hostage for the rest of our lives—what makes you think anyone's going to believe your promises? The Alliance won't sign a treaty as long as you're holding us here against our will!"

"Perhaps not," Thea acknowledged, "but that is a chance I must take. If it becomes necessary to barter flesh with your Alliance, your presence will be a useful wedge. And even your officials will understand that returning the three of you would be a risk which the Praetor cannot take. The Alliance will make peace for the galaxy, Doctor. Three starship crewmembers will be considered a price well-paid."

McCoy remained silent, too stunned to reply. He forced himself to remember that Spock had a plan, forced himself to remember there was something more important to fight for. If the Vulcan was successful in re-creating that other timeline, it would all be rendered academic. And the tapes the Vulcan had stolen from the Ravonhad proven it possible. But as he stood there studying the robed and hooded figure, he couldn't help wondering what had really happened between Spock and Thea … if the Vulcan had made some unspoken bargain with the devil.

Once Spock and his party were ushered to separate quarters, Thea made her way down the long maze of corridors which would lead to Tavor's private office. Gargoyle eyes stared down with hollow smiles from the high stone ceiling, and thin streams of smoke poured from the nostrils of dragon-headed statues which lined the private corridor.