Balthazar was a preening prince, an adored idol in his sea of sirens, but instead of waiting for the compliments to pour over him as he usually did, the Warlord tucked in his long, talon-tipped wings and strode toward me. From the way those golden eyes of his were scraping down my form in a deliberately cutting way, he seemed to be assessing my physical health, I realized.

"You're a long way from home, my lord." I said, folding my arms to deflect his gaze.

"Speaking of home – how exactly did you get home, Dryad? You couldn't possibly get from Duranta to Blackswallow in a single night. That's not in your arsenal of magic, I'm afraid."

"It's a good thing you're not owed any answers, Balthazar. But come, there's someone who wishes to make your acquaintance."

A feral grin formed on his face at my quick dismissal and as I turned around, my back to him, his warm hand clamped the back of my neck, stopping me from walking away.

"Well, well. You're a surprise, aren't you? Taking orders like a dog. I thought I'd never see the day."

My head turned to the side, and I shook his hand off, snarling back, "You've never shut up for long enough to have the pleasure, have you, Warlord? But more to the point, there are too many prying eyes. Let's take this meeting indoors, shall we?"

"I'm in a good mood, so I'll indulge your smart mouth just this once, Doralis... but only this once."

He towered over me, leaning into my space as he came around, keeping an appallingly close distance beside my body as we walked down the brimming streets full of inquisitive stares and open-mouthed viewers. I didn't say anything, but I could feel their curiosity like a sting, their blatant wonder at what we were doing together and where we were going attracting a tail of followers behind us.

It wasn't a common occurrence to see the infamous ruler of Adalantra in public, going about his daily business, with a Dryad of all people. He obviously wasn't in the market for a wife, and he didn't appear to be shopping for a lower price of salmon head.

"This Sorcerer is a credit to his profession." Balthazar murmured idly, glancing around as we passed a local blacksmith. "Your wounds must have been grave for you to have succumbed to them."

We heard distant clanging and sizzling while passing the shop. I shrugged, answering lamely, "Don't look so pleased with yourself. It was not your magic that finished me off. It was my own doing. Over-expending my magic has a cost."

"You have grappled, pulled, torn apart my limbs and you’ve wreaked havoc upon the face of this earth many times before, Doralis. You are not some fledgeling Magic Blood who has just come into her gifts. You don't expect me to believe that you exhausted yourself so easily after tussling with a wildling wolf, do you?"

My feet lurched. "How did you know that I'd fought with a wildling wolf?!" I asked him, an edge of hysteria creeping into my tone.

Balthazar rolled his eyes at me. "Your mind is an interesting place. And please, try to control yourself. Your emotions are all over the place."

"Answer me. Before I find something sharp and put it through your eye."

"We're meant to be on friendly terms, my pigpen princess. Am I not supposed to be meeting the one you answer to? The one who now rings your dinner bell? Let's go see how he feels about your inclination for violence." After a condescending pat on my head, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks, whistling a jaunty tune while he proceeded to put distance between us.

Walking away - as if he knew which way he was going.

"Him, or Rizzaget. Who do I kill first?" I muttered to myself.

Decisions, decisions.

We ended up in front of Rizzaget’s apothecary – the Ah'mazery Galore Store. The polished, green wood of the exterior was impossible to ignore and the sign that beckoned us inward, lamenting a 'welcoming experience' seemed to draw memories out from the back of my mind.

The sybaritic scents that hit me when I barged into the double-doors were soothing. A soft wind enforced by magic coiled around my naked neck, brushing against my skin like goose feathers; it made me shiver under my clothes, which I hadn't noticed until now were clean and changed.

I was wearing a matching set to Rizzaget – except mine were pristine white, embroidered with blue flowers. My feet were also encased in silk slip-ons. Silk?

I toed the ground self-consciously as I came to the grudging conclusion that these clothes, even though they weren’t the finery of a noblewoman, they were probably the finest threads that I’d worn in… well, a very, very long time.

And my sister, it seemed... while I'd spent time arguing with Balthazar, had gotten changed into yet another set of borrowed clothes. Her choice of attire was also another ensemble that looked like the Sorcerer's; but it was pale pink and dusted with iridescence around the edge.

She met me by the entrance of the store, hesitating, eyes taking in the Warlord at my side, before grabbing my hand.

"He's in the back." Was all she said.

"Tea room?" I grunted.

Anixae nodded and drew back, her eyes pinned on my long-time enemy.

"I remember you... Ah, yes. The youngest Dryad. You must be baby Anixae." Balthazar said, tapping his chin in thought.

"Don't speak to her, filth." I tugged on his shirt, pulling him close behind me as I made my way passed dozens of bookshelves and tables of merchandise.

He followed dutifully in my wake, waving at my sister until we'd crossed the threshold of another area, moving into the storage room. I could still feel her angry stare stabbing him in the back, though.

"The way she feels about me... Oh, so utterly delightful. If you could only read her mind, it's almost like reading a dirty, dirty book. The things she wants to do to me! It's so sinful, Doralis." He chuckled.

"Rizzaget!" I called, stomping into the tea room, trying to outpace the giant at my back.

The Sorcerer was seated at an oak table when we finally stumbled across his proud, languorous form - sipping on a dainty cup of steaming liquid. He was sitting cross-legged on a chair, expecting us with a serene look on his face, every bit the rakish lord I'd first met centuries ago.

Ancient, yellow paper was strewn across his table, but he didn't appear to be interested in it. He just drummed his hands on the wooden table, placed his cup down and waved at the two comfy-looking chairs positioned in front of his table.

Two? Not three?

"No seat for Anixae?" I asked him.

He shrugged. "Why should she be part of this discussion?"

"Because you've tethered her life to yours, you mutt!" I was about to implode, was about to forget what killing him would do to my sister and score my claws down his face, but Balthazar reeled me in by the elbow, clicked his fingers and a black chair – carved out of obsidian – dropped out of the ether next to the table.

"I don't like to be taunted, Sorcerer." Balthazar said, taking a seat.

Rizzaget's eyes held a gleam. "Tell her to take a seat, then."

"She is listening and will not take a seat!" I screeched, incensed by whatever Rizzaget was implying.

Did he seem to think that I took orders from Balthazar of all people?

The building was starting to rumble, and the walls of the room began to peel and crack apart. It could have been my doing. I could have been the one making the ground shake outside. But I had a feeling that the earth was shifting for a very different reason.

The shadows slipping and sliding over Balthazar's taut form were starting to whip around the room in a frenzy, showing his agitation with the Sorcerer. I walked back and forth behind him, watching the men stare at each other, unable to comprehend the strangeness of the past two days.

"Anixae!" I yelled.

No response.

The room was quickly turning cold, the windows frosting over. Would this town be another version of Duranta?

My eyes went to the back of Balthazar's head.

But the mercurial man seated across from the Sorcerer didn't seem the least bit ruffled by Rizzaget's off-handed statements.

He looked settled and poised as he leaned one cheek against his fist and yawned, "Quite an odd way to arrange an introduction, I'll give you that. However, as intrigued as I may be, Doralis is my favourite pastime and if you mess with her, you'll have to pay with your life. Do you understand, Sorcerer La'Barrier?"

Rizzaget laughed, not the least bit intimidated. He shuttered his eyes, then in a withering voice, explained, "She's not the one I want, Dragon. You see, I've got two Dryads to monopolize and in order to see my plans through, well... Rest assured, I won't kill her. This unruly arrangement is a necessity that I can't afford to lose. And this life-bond is an insurance policy, I guess you could say, to keep them complicit. With their help, I'll track down Galadryn, the only one who won't see them coming. Their sister has done me a great disservice, you see. An item went missing from my guild not three weeks ago. It was determined that her 'specific' magic signature was left behind."

I gaped at him. "What item?"

"Perhaps I'll tell you. After you take a seat, Dryad."

"This is your final warning. Don't provoke me." Balthazar said, his voice soft and wispy like falling snowflakes... but even underneath that delicate lilt of his, I'd somehow felt how close he was to breaking out of his skin and letting the monster loose.

I didn't know what he meant by that veiled threat. How was Rizzaget getting under his skin? The scathing edge of Rizzaget's words had been directed at me so far, not him.

I'd been the target.

"Doralis, would you like to take a seat? Next to Balthazar? Or would you prefer my lap instead?" Rizzaget was sitting one moment and in the next breath, he was flung out of the room by an invisible force.

No – that was untrue.

The Warlord's shadows had struck Rizzaget like a hammer, so quick and abrasive, blasting the Sorcerer straight through the windowpane at his back.

I had seconds... seconds for the devastation to hit me.

"Anixae!" I screamed, running out of the room, trying to find her.

I located my sister in the middle of the store, surrounded by a nest of shadows and they appeared to be coddling her. Her face was paper-white, and she was trying to push her way out of the mass of dark tendrils.

When she saw me, she waved her arms around, screaming my name.

"Doralis! Please. What is this? Am I... Is it going to eat me?"

Balthazar snickered as he came up beside me, one arm holding me snug against him. "Don't be ridiculous, baby Dryad. The shadows stopped you from feeling the effects of Rizzaget's well-deserved pain. He'll be coming through the door any moment now... Ah, there he is."

We all turned to see a furious, huffing, figure stomped into the store – his blue eyes wild and icy with vengeance.

"I was on my best behaviour, Warlord." Rizzaget snarled.

"Hardly. You've been taunting me ever since Duranta... And now I know why." Balthazar muttered, prying himself away from me at last.

The shadows around my sister dissipated and I ran to her. "Rizzaget was in Duranta?" I asked him.

But it was the Sorcerer who answered, "No, lovely. I've never been to Duranta. It's too far out of my way. But I may have cast a spell and put the idea in your head to go there and... look around. I may have also weakened your powers on purpose so you would be put in a life-threatening position. I just never assumed it would take you this long to get to Duranta. Then, there's the unexpected caveat of Anixae following you. Such a good, loyal sister. To be honest, I would have rather life-bonded myself to you, but alas, here we are. Two Dryads, one stone, as it were."

“You disreputable… piece of shit!” I snapped.

“Language, dear. Do all Dryads have such filthy mouths?” Rizzaget murmured without remorse.

I picked up one of his vials from a nearby shelf and flung it at his head. He deftly moved out of the way, sighing in irritation as he combed bits of glass out of his hair, but the look on his face showed that he wasn’t the least bit disappointed in my reaction.

In fact, he glowered at me, arguing, “I don’t know why you’re so upset. You got off easy. What I had planned was for you to have a run-in with Duranta’s indominable human army. There’s why I chose that town, you know. They’ve been campaigning for the complete eradication of Magic Bloods for a while; They have the capability and military power to do it, too – well, until recently, that is…”

“You were hoping that I would be butchered alive by Duranta’s soldiers? Did you toss your moral compass into a volcano while I was gone?”

He took a breath and continued in an increasingly dark voice, “You lack clarity in a certain aspect of my story, dearest Dryad. I haven’t quite finished. That should have been where my plans reached fruition, but no. It was not to be. Duranta suffered an enormous loss that night simply because a bad-tempered Warlord couldn’t stop himself from sniffing after you. Always biting at your heels, wherever you are, isn’t he? He wasn’t supposed to be there, but he came in and tore apart half the cavalry in a single night. Do you get what I am saying? You and your insufferable “partnership” with the Dragon cost me three weeks of planning… But I suppose that doesn’t matter because I still managed to break even. As Fate would have it, you wandered off into the Spikewood Forest and tussled with a pack of wildling wolves. In the end, you were still heavily injured, and I got to make a life-bond with a Dryad.”

Processing his bitter statements about the ‘Dragon,’ I looked at Balthazar, who had suddenly taken an interest in his nails. Addressing him, I said, “Why didn’t you just leave after killing the guards in the chapel? You shouldn’t have killed off any more of Duranta’s army. It was unnecessary, even for you.”

He shrugged, not meeting my eyes, but I sensed an air of untruth about him as he answered, “Should I have allowed them to go out and hunt any more Magic Bloods? No, I don’t think so. Besides, I was in a good mood that night. If they’d have caught me in a bad mood, then every single one of Duranta’s soldiers would be dead right now. Lying in a bloody heap with their throats ripped out. You don’t have to thank me, Dryad, although it would be nice.”

I turned my accusatory eyes back to the Sorcerer. 

“And what if you’d miscalculated on my part? What if I had died in Duranta? What then, Sorcerer La’Barrier? Would you have used Anixae as my bloody proxy?” I demanded of him.