"Then why not give it?"
"Why—?" The throaty laughter rippled. "Because they desire me does not mean I want them, Earthling. I seek a man of blood and iron as well as passion—a champion to aid me against Zenaor."
In spite of himself, Craig smiled thinly. "Some might call that a tribute. To me, it seems left-handed."
Vydys frowned, ever so slightly. "I do not understand you, alien. Would it be such punishment to sit beside me, ruling Lysor?" And then, eager again: "For we can do it, with your valor and the weapon they say you received from the one called Tumek."
"The weapon—!"
"Yes. A crystal, to win power even over the Xumarian ourobos my spies say Zenaor plans to use against the Baemae. You have it, do you not?"
She drew closer as she spoke. Her hands slid over him, touched the jewel-case where it lay flat against his body. Before he could stop her, she had it out and open.
"So—! This is the thing! A pretty bauble...."
Craig didn't answer.