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"Well, this certainly is uncomfortable." Durinda stared straight ahead. "It was centuries ago, and I under­stand there were . . . many."

Had the demoness been trying to rekindle an affair? He'd assumed she'd just been kind to help him familiar-ize himself with the place. He'd thought she'd merely enjoyed reminiscing. "It was indeed long ago."

They rode on in onerous silence, but when they reached the rise over the camp, he found a scene that defied description.

In full Sorceri regalia, Sabine appeared to be mut­tering to herself as she shoved people out of her way while storming toward a dragon. The beast was poised to attack a cornered group-with Puck among them.

Drawing his sword as he spurred his horse, Rydstrom charged down the hill toward her. He'd never reach them in time.

When Sabine neared the beast, she yelled for its attention. Rydstrom's heart dropped when it rounded on her in a rippling flash of muscle and crackling scales.

"No!" he bellowed. "Get away!"

The beast hissed, darting its forked tongue. Yet she faced it with her chin up and shoulders back, raising her palms. Heat blurred the air above her hands. When it swept its paws, she leapt over them, then ducked under its swatting tail. "Hey! That was close! Stop this now!"

The beast slowed its tail, seeming to glower in confu­sion.

Rydstrom dismounted his horse in a full run. As he closed in on them, he could hear her talking to the dragon. She'd said she could speak to animals. Could she hold it off?

"That's better. You don't want to feed upon me," she murmured. "Though I am the tenderest, I'm also poisonous." She chuckled as if at an inside joke. "Don't be cross with us, great one." She cautiously reached up and petted its gleaming scales. It jerked back, yet then

allowed another stroke. "We didn't know this was your home." The beast chuffed air.

Sabine glanced at Rydstrom, her eyes glowing bright in her mask of kohl. "Do you think it could eat me in one bite?"

"Move away from it!"

"So you can strike this exceptional fellow down?"

"To protect you, yes!" Rydstrom hated the idea of killing one such as that, but he readily would.

"I've got this. Luckily, one person here had the sense to free me-against your orders."

Could she control it? He didn't want her in jeop­ardy, but she looked as if she was having . . . fun. He motioned for those cornered to begin slipping out.

The beast tensed. "Keep talking," Rydstrom muttered to her as he helped Puck and another away. Almost everyone had escaped.

Sabine continued, "Confession time, dragon. One night last summer, when my sister Lanthe and I were really bored, we almost sent all the creatures from Grave Realm through a portal to a place called Times Square. We've since seen why that would be hilarious only to us"

The creature's eyelids were growing heavy, as if it were mesmerized. When all the people were a safe dis-tance away, Rydstrom lowered his sword.

Instead of escaping when she'd been freed, Sabine had voluntarily waded into a dragon's way to save oth­ers. She'd told him she'd never help another if there was no benefit to herself. Yet now she had ...

"Cwena," he murmured, his chest tight with pride Little queen.

The way she was interacting with the beast was the most remarkable thing he'd ever seen-it looked pow­erless not to be enthralled by her.

We've that in common, dragon.

"Would you allow us a night or two longer here?" she asked the dragon.

In answer, it chuffed hot breath at her again, then turned its immense body to stalk off into the night.

People cheered. At once, Puck ran for Sabine in that headlong way the young did.

Yet she didn't kneel and open her arms to embrace the boy. She snatched him up by his belt and carried him like an accessory, berating him for not fleeing from things that have fangs bigger than his body. And the child looked as if he couldn't have been happier.

All around her, people rushed forward to express gratitude.

She negligently waved her free hand at them, mut­tering, "Yeah, yeah. Say it with gold."

Even Durinda thanked her as she collected Puck.

When Sabine approached Rydstrom, he was at a loss for words.

"If you think about binding my arms again," she began, "I'll call my big friend down here once more, and he will go off his newly restricted diet." She continued on, ignoring him.

Sabine had told him, "Lonely demon. You need me so much."

He feared she was right.

35

For two days, his female had free run of the camp, wreaking utter havoc.

The once reviled sorceress could do no wrong in the eyes of the demons here-and she was taking full advantage of that fact.

When a group of young females had asked her what one should name her horse, she'd answered, "I like the sound of Fellatio."

When Rydstrom had confronted Sabine about it, she'd said, "Do you know how priceless it was to hear that demoness sigh, 'I love my Fellatio' ? Even gold can't buy moments like that!"

At his unbending look, she'd rolled her eyes. "The young female was nineteen. And if she doesn't know what the word means by now, then she has bigger prob­lems than what to name her pony." She'd added, "You ridiculed the fact that I remained purposely ignorant of your language because my kind finds it uncouth. But

isn't that exactly what the females of your kingdom do about sex?"

He opened his mouth, then closed it, unable to deny her reasoning.

And she'd made many decrees. For the vintner to mix a sweeter wine for her. For the smithy to begin work on her crown and new breastplate. For a cook to prepare vegetarian dishes.

Puck followed her everywhere. Luckily, he couldn't understand her when she said things like, "Is it still behind me? Why won't it stop following me? It's look­ing at me again, isn't it? I can feel its little eyes on me."

Though she acted as if she didn't care for Puck's com­pany, Rydstrom had spied her sit on a bench and pat the space beside her for the boy to sit. He'd also seen her brush Puck's hair out of his eyes.

Each time, she'd seemed to startle herself, glancing around guiltily-as if her kindness was improper. In her old world, it would have been.

As for Rydstrom, he couldn't spend enough time with her-literally. She avoided him.

She'd demanded her own tent, refusing to share his. The night of the basilisk's attack, he'd found her in the bluffs high above the camp to thank her for saving the lives of his people-and to indicate that she was still to sleep with him.


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