"Two weeks?" she whispered.
"You and I are returning to the Blue Grotto. After I get my real personality back—minus my red-hot temper—we will return to Ruuzol."
His hands drew her to him.
"Two weeks is a short honeymoon, but for an old hermit like me it will be an eternity of happiness!"
Their lips met avidly, as the shadows of the departing fliers flickered one by one across their bodies, and disappeared over the horizon.
Across the empty red plains of Ruuzol rolled a tumblie. Xax was going home.
