a moment later a cat appeared, in full leap, his head down.
Before Charlie could react, that long, razor-sharp center horn gored Tarrys clean through the chest.
Charlie went berserk.
Horror screamed through him as he flew at the cat, digging his knife deep in the creature's throat, ripping through muscle and sinew.
Warm blood spurted from the animal, mixing with the blood that bloomed on Tarrys's gown.
The cat fell, taking Tarrys with it, fully impaled on its horn.
As he reached for her, the second cat appeared, leaping for him.
His fury found an outlet and lent speed to his reflexes as he shoved his knife upward into the attacking cat's jaw, lodging it deep in the animal's skull.
That deadly center horn caught on the fabric of his tunic, but didn't break through.
Close.
Too close.
The cat fell dead at his feet then disappeared a second later, leaving his knife lying, bloody, on the ground.
He snatched the knife and crouched, watching for more cats.
But the green carpet had passed them by and nothing else moved.
Finally he whirled back to Tarrys and knelt beside her, turning her gently onto her back.
The trimor gone, she now lay on a bed of dark pink flowers as if she'd been laid out for burial.
A bloom of blood the size of his palm covered her chest.
And her eyes, those vibrant, violet eyes, stared at nothing, unblinking, her expression frozen in a mask of pain.
A mask of death.
Charlie felt as if he'd been sucker punched, his heart skipping a beat, then racing faster than it had during the attack.
Tarrys was dead.
No.
Not dead.
Paralyzed.
Wasn't she? How in the hell was he supposed to know? Lifting her hand, he pressed it between his own.
Her flesh was warm and damp, the perfection marred by a faint green allover mottling, but that hardly told him anything.
She could still be dead.
The thought went through him like a blade.
She'd saved his life.
If he'd come upon this scenario alone, it would be him lying on that bed of flowers.
And he would be dead.
"Can you hear me, eaglet?" No response, but he hadn't really expected one.
"I should have asked you how long the paralysis lasts.
Or, hell, if there's something I need to do to bring you out of it."
This place was filled with magic.
What if the poison wasn't a toxin so much as a curse? What if she was like Sleeping Beauty or something? Charlie stared at her, at those lips parted with pain.
What did he have to lose? It wasn't like kissing her was any kind of hardship.
He leaned over and pressed his lips to hers.
Her scent filled his nostrils.
Even totally unresponsive, she moved him, the feel of her damp mouth beneath his stirring something warm and exciting inside him.
When she didn't respond, he pulled back and studied her, searching her eyes.
"It was worth a try," he said with a shrug.
Something flickered in her eyes.
He squeezed her hand.
"You're aware, aren't you? You know I just kissed you.
Great.
Now I really feel like an idiot.
You know Sleeping Beauty, right? Probably not.
Hell.
She was awakened with a kiss.
I thought it might work, though heaven knows I'm no Prince Charming."
He was only digging himself deeper.
"Right.
Anyway..." Releasing her hand, he stood and surveyed the surrounding area, looking for anything else that might come after them.
Those trimors were going to give him nightmares.
Comfortable that there was no imminent danger of the corporeal kind, he knelt once more beside Tarrys and took her hand again.
Still warm, thank God.
"Are you in pain?" As he stared into her eyes, he felt sure the answer was no.
She wasn't in pain.
Her eyes, for all that they weren't moving, were amazingly expressive.
"Will you recover?" Again, he thought the answer was yes.
"Good.
I'll wait for you."
Now, he clearly saw distress.
"What? You think I'm leaving you like this? Not a chance."
He stretched out his legs and got comfortable, a sound of relief escaping his throat.
It felt good to be off his feet.
"You know, eaglet, if it turns out you're really dead and I just think I see emotions in your eyes, I'm going to feel like a real fool."
But watching her eyes, he grinned.
"Except now you're laughing at me."
He lay down beside her, watching a pair of the green-and- white-striped snakes fly across the golden dome as he pulled her slender hand against his chest.
"I'm glad you came, Tarrys.
It's a hard thing to admit, but I'd be dead if you hadn't."
He squeezed her hand, then rubbed her warm, soft skin with his thumb.
"Sorry for pushing so hard.
I thought you'd give up, but you've got the stamina of