Fayth forced her eyes open, found herself staring into a handsome face. It was scarred and furred with whiskers, but still quite beautiful and comfortingly familiar. Her throbbing arm was pressed between their bodies. She clutched at him with her good hand. "Please don't let them get me. Please." The effort was too much and she closed her eyes, her fingers slipping from his leather jack.

His voice cut through the encroaching darkness. "I won't."

"Promise me."

"I promise."

She somehow knew this man would not break a promise and so allowed herself to drift, relieved to let him handle it now. It was too much, worrying about Ridley and trying to remember where she was and who this man was that held her. The motion of the horse, however, was too violent to allow for thought, and soon she was moaning, holding herself stiff to contain the pain. Her entire world centered on the pulsing in her arm.

The man was breathing hard. Fayth's cheek rested against his chest and it heaved with effort.

"We've got to stop," the man yelled.

"Can't," someone else called back.

"It's too much for... him."

"Then leave him. He's dead already."

The movement stopped. "There's a cave not far. I'm going there."

"d.a.m.n it, Alex, at least take him to Gealach. There's women there to tend him. He's not worth getting killed over."

"He'll die before we get there. Send Davie back with supplies."

The horse was moving again. Alex. Alex. The other man had addressed her protector as Alex. She did know an Alex, of that she was certain. The name brought forth the image of dark hair and eyes, of arms embracing her. Tales of princes and fair maidens, living in far-off moon towers. The scent of leather and sweat and whisky. Yes, she knew him well. This comforted her and she stopped struggling for clear thought. He would take care of her.

She was jostled about some more, then she realized faintly they were no longer on the horse. He carried her, an arm under her knees, another curled under her back, cradling her against his chest. Cold, damp air enveloped her. She shivered, though her skin was on fire. He laid her down and his arms slipped away.

"No." She reached blindly for him, her eyes wrenching open. She caught his arm, but her fingers were weak and awkward and slipped away.

He didn't leave. He knelt beside her. "I'll be back."

"Don't go," she said. Her voice was thin and raspy, her breath hot across dry lips.

"I must fetch water. I'll only be gone a moment-"

"No!"

He hesitated, then sat beside her, taking her hand. "I'm here, la.s.s. I'll not leave."

"You didn't leave me back there. They told you to."

He said nothing. Her burning eyes watered but she kept them open, gazing at him. Everything was so woolly in her head, so confusing. But he had stayed with her and that was her anchor. He understood what she did not. He would see to everything. That was enough for her.

They were in a dark place, but light originated from somewhere she couldn't determine. Enough light to see his face. Dark, reddish hair hung loose, sliding over his shoulders. His eyes were dark blue, deep as midnight. His jaw was shadowed with whiskers. His eyes were on her as well, studying her face. The thick reddish lashes fell. He pressed his eyes closed and sighed deeply, as if exhausted.

There was a flush to his skin. She untangled her fingers from his and touched him. The moment her hand pressed against his skin, his eyes sprang open. Her fingers were pale against his face. She'd expected his skin to be cool, soothing against her hot palm, but he was as hot as she was.

"You're ill?" she said.

He shook his head. "It's nothing."

There was something she had to tell him but she couldn't recall what. Something he'd done... or she'd done. She couldn't remember. His hand covered hers, holding it against his cheek.

"Davie'd better get here quick."

"Davie...?"

"Aye, the healer. Remember?"

She should remember and she tried... Davie... Davie...? She shook her head.

He frowned, concerned. "Let me get you water. It will cool the fever." He took her hand from his cheek and tried to lay it across her belly, but she wouldn't let go, tangling her fingers with his. He clasped her hand between both of his and leaned down, so his face was close to hers. "Listen to me, Fayth. I will be right back. I vow it."

She thought she might cry for fear of being alone in this strange, confusing place.

His hands tightened almost painfully on hers. "I've never known you to be a coward, la.s.s. Dinna start now. I need your strength."

The tears and the desperation receded. Yes, he did know her. She could be strong for him. She nodded her head, licking her dry and cracking lips. "I won't be afraid-so long as you come back."

"Nothing could keep me from you."

His eyes transfixed her, she couldn't look away. He stayed that way, gazing down at her. She waited for him to leave, but he didn't. One hand came up, the fingers brushed across her forehead, pushed the cap off her head. Then he leaned forward and pressed a lingering kiss against her hot skin.

The air left her. She squeezed his hand, wanting him to kiss her again. She knew this. His smell, his touch. That's how she knew him. Her prince in the moon tower. They'd kissed. Did that make her a fair maiden? He started to draw away, but she turned her head, lifted her neck slightly, her lips brushing the corner of his mouth.

"Kiss me," she whispered, her hand squeezing, her eyes begging.

"You're not well," he whispered, so close she felt his breath caress her. "You know not what you're saying."

"I know you," she said. "I know this."

He drew back enough to search her eyes. "The fever has clouded your mind."

"Perhaps it has clouded yours."

One corner of his mouth tilted, but he did not kiss her.

"If I die-"

"You'll not die," he said fiercely, and lowered his head, his lips brushing hers, gently. She touched his face again and he deepened the kiss, his hand sliding beneath her head, his fingers hot against her neck. Yes, yes, she knew his taste, his feel. Craved it. He must be her husband, or her lover. Her moon prince.

Her tongue darted out, stroking his bottom lip. He groaned, but the sound was swallowed by their mouths, joined in a kiss so deep it touched something inside her, set it to quivering. She gripped his hair, urging him closer, but he pulled away, gently prying her fingers loose.

"I'd better get that water," he said hoa.r.s.ely, "afore we both turn to ash."

Alex's hands shook as he fumbled with the laces securing his water skin to Bear's saddle. After carrying Fayth for the past two hours his shoulder throbbed. His head was beginning to ache in time with his shoulder. He pressed his forehead against Bear's withers, trying to collect his thoughts. After a moment he worked at the laces again, finally freeing the water skin. It was nearly empty. He needed more water-now-before he was beyond such simple tasks as fetching water. He prayed Davie would return soon. He had not thought his wound would fester, had thought it was mending and so had refused the healer's attempts to fuss with it.