He chuckled. “So fierce.” His lips brushed her cheek again. “Where did you send him?”

“To the north. It is better that he live with the primitives than with those monsters who have forgotten that civilized cultures cannot be founded on earth soaked with blood.” She drew a deep shaky breath. “We have accomplished so much here. Legend says the homeplace was better but I cannot believe it. Kantalan is-” She paused, searching for a word. “Ra.”

“Now, your humorless priests really would consider that blaspheming.” His breath was warm as he laughed softly in her ear. “I think I’m jealous. I don’t want you to be thinking of Kantalan while I’m holding you like this.” His arm tightened around her. “And I’d like you to tell me you love me again. Will you do that, Sayan?”

“Why should you doubt it? After what-”

He could feel sudden tension stiffen the muscles of her spine. “What’s wrong?” His own body tautened in response, his gaze searching the streets below for some unknown danger.

Sayan realized he hadn’t felt the trembling beneath their feet, yet it was far stronger than the tremor she had noticed earlier. Her gaze fled to the Sun Child’s peak framed against the moonlit sky. Nothing. No sign of even a whiff of smoke issuing from the mouth of the volcano. Not yet. They still had time.

She turned in his arms and buried her cheek against the warm smoothness of his naked shoulder. “Please go. Please leave me, Dalkar.”

“Be quiet.” His voice was rough as his fingers tangled in her shining dark mane as he tilted her head back to gaze into her eyes. For once there was no laughter in his own eyes. They were direct and grave and so loving, she felt as if Ra had flooded the night with sunlight. Her entire being was floating on that stream of light. “I don’t know anything about your visions or your gods. All I know is what we have together. I could no more leave you now than I could change what I feel for you. Do you understand?”