Strabo licked his chops as he nodded. “Have her friend brought to me right away, Crabbit.”
His Eminence looked as if he might implode, but he turned to the building and shouted for Rufus Pinch to produce Thom. Laphroig still didn’t know who they were talking about, but as soon as Thom appeared, sliding past him quickly to stand next to Mistaya, he turned purple with rage and screamed a long string of bad words that don’t bear repeating.
“You knew about this, Crabbit! You knew, and you kept it from me! You will pay for this, I promise you.” He wheeled on Thom. “As for you, I won’t make the same mistake twice. I’ll hunt you down once this is finished, no matter how long it takes, and when I find you—”
“You won’t do anything, if you’re inside Strabo’s belly,” Mistaya pointed out smugly.
But all of a sudden Strabo reared up and wheeled away, his attention diverted. “What’s that I smell?” he growled.
They all looked and saw a handful of mounted knights racing away across the hills, trying unsuccessfully to escape notice. Apparently, they had recovered from their earlier fright and finding themselves on the wrong side of escape had decided to circle back north and try to slip past the dragon.
“Oh, my favorites!” Strabo enthused. “Crunchy on the outside and chewy on the inside. And all that iron is fuel for my inner child.” He glanced at Mistaya. “I have to go now, Princess. I need a snack after all that flying. Good luck to you.”
He wheeled away, spread his wings, and soared off into the sky, Mistaya and her captors forgotten in an instant. Already they could hear the rumble of his internal furnace as the bellows heated the flames to cooking temperature.
Mistaya was so shocked by the dragon’s abrupt and unexpected departure that for a moment she just stood there. How could he leave like that, right in the middle of rescuing her?
Then Laphroig looked over at her and His Eminence did the same, and she realized how much danger she was in.
She brought up her hands in a warding motion. “Don’t even think about it. This wedding is over. Just stay right where you are. I’m not your prisoner now, and if you try to make me one, I’ll fry you where you stand.”
“I think that it is dragons who fry people, Princess,” His Eminence purred, his fingers flexing. “In any case, you are no match for me, free or not. You are young and inexperienced, and you are alone. Thom can’t help you, either. His brother will see to him while I see to you.”
The oblong head bobbed and a smile played across the odd face. “I would let you go if I didn’t think you already knew too much for your own good. Best if you come back inside and remain as my guest until your father gets here.”
Mistaya kept one eye on his hands, the other on Laphroig. “My father isn’t coming. Didn’t you know?”
“Oh, I think maybe he is. I sent him a message.”
She didn’t know if he was lying or not, but it wasn’t something she wanted to chance. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not helping you trap my father by staying. We’re leaving.”
Laphroig stepped forward quickly. “You’ll leave when I say you can leave, you little snot-nosed whelp! You’re mine, wedding or not, and I will do with you as I wish. By the time the dragon finds out what’s been done, it will be too late. Crabbit, I will deal with you and your lying ways later. For now, bind her hands and my brother’s, too, and get out of my way.”
To emphasize the point, he produced a wicked looking dagger from beneath his robes and held it in a way to suggest that he was ready to use it on any one of them should they give him reason.
His Eminence looked taken aback. “Who do you think you are, issuing orders to me, Laphroig? I am not one of your lackeys.”
He shifted away slightly, putting himself at the same distance from Laphroig as he was from Mistaya. “I’ve had enough of you, Lord of Rhyndweir. I think perhaps it is time for you to take your leave. You can do so voluntarily or I will help you on your way. Mr. Pinch? Do you have the crossbow pointed at his back?”
“I do, Mr. Crabbit,” the other replied from just behind Laphroig. “As you instructed me to do earlier when I warned you that he was a snake in the grass and not to be trusted.”
Laphroig smiled. “A crossbow won’t do the job, Crabbit. I am armored against such weapons. And before you can work a spell, I will have this dagger through your throat. Now do as I say and stop playing games.”
Mistaya was at a loss as to how to proceed. The standoff had pitted them against one another. If one attacked, the others would retaliate. She took two steps back and bumped into Thom.
