long Thanos need not know until after the fact.”

Lara laughed. “I think you are safe keeping Cirillo’s whereabouts from his father. As long as Thanos is involved in his arboretum you will be safe from his curiosity, Mother. The trees are his passion, aren’t they? So let us, you and I, enjoy ourselves these next few days while our men are about other things.”

Ilona smiled. “I never thought to have a friend in my daughter, Lara, but I can see that I do. Aye! We will drink wine and eat sweetmeats and do the outrageous things that women love to do. I have these two marvelous mortal masseurs I have enchanted. Shall I call upon them?” And the queen of the Forest Faeries smiled wickedly.

5

CIRILLO OF THE FOREST FAERIES was enchanted by the beauty of Belmair. “Oh, yes,” he said. “There be faeries here. It is too lovely a world for our race not to inhabit.” Then he embraced Dillon. “Hello, Nephew! It is good to see you again.”

“Uncle,” Dillon welcomed Cirillo with a grin. “My lord father,” he greeted Kaliq.

Cinnia stared openmouthed at Cirillo. Never in all her life had she ever seen such a beautiful creature. Unable to help herself she reached out to touch his pale gold hair, for she had not seen its like before. It looked like spun silk, or perhaps spider’s silk or milkweed floss. It felt like…She gasped as his hand grasped hers. Her eyes met two crystal-green eyes. Cinnia swallowed hard, and a deep blush suffused her pale skin.

“You will be my new niece,” Cirillo purred seductively, and he placed a warm lingering kiss upon Cinnia’s small hand.

“Is it not possible for you to meet a woman without trying to seduce her, Cirillo?” Dillon said, his tone just faintly tinged with irritation.

Cirillo sighed. “I suppose since she is your wife you will be jealous if I do,” he said, his tone sorrowful. He smiled at Cinnia as she snatched her hand away from him. “I am very sorry, my beautiful one, but I cannot oblige the longing I see in your eyes. You are, alas, now family.”

“What you see in my eyes, my lord, is shock that you would be so forward with a woman you have not even yet met,” Cinnia said outraged, and frankly embarrassed by her own girlish and gauche actions.

“Indeed, Uncle,” Dillon teased Cirillo. “But let us have do with the formalities. This is Cinnia, my bride and my queen. Cinnia, this is my uncle, Cirillo, prince of the Forest Faeries, who has come to lend us his aid.”

“My lord,” Cinnia said, dropping him a curtsey as Cirillo bowed politely.

“I think Nidhug should join us,” Kaliq said.

“I’ll go and fetch her myself,” Cinnia said, and hurried away from the hall.

“You did not exaggerate, my lord Kaliq,” Cirillo said. “She is a great beauty.”

“And she is my wife,” Dillon reminded the faerie prince once again.

“It will be difficult,” Cirillo admitted, “keeping my hands off of her, but I will. It would never do for us to quarrel.”

“The dragon is a female,” Dillon said drily to his uncle. “Charm her.”

“Does she have a weakness?” Cirillo asked seriously.

“She is a serious gourmand,” Dillon replied, half laughing.

“I have promised your grandmother that I would return Cirillo as quickly as possible,” Kaliq said. “And unscathed. Once Nidhug joins us we will go to the Academy to seek the hidden room and its forbidden books within its library.”

His two companions agreed, and wine being served they descended in to small talk until Cinnia returned with the dragon. Coming into the hall, they made their way to where the three men sat. Looking at the faerie prince, Nidhug murmured something low to Cinnia, and then the two laughed.

Dillon came forward to welcome the dragon into the hall. “Nidhug, I greet you,” he said, holding his two hands out to accept her elegant paws into them.

“My lord king,” the dragon said, nodding in return. Then her shimmering gaze turned itself to Kaliq and Cirillo. “Kaliq of the Shadows, I greet you. And this beautiful fellow will be Prince Cirillo.” Her voice had gone a trifle more seductive as she spoke.

“I greet you, Nidhug,” Kaliq said.

“Madam, I greet you,” Cirillo said. “No one told me a dragon would be so…so beautiful. I have never seen your like before.”

“Of course you haven’t, my dear boy.” Nidhug simpered, her heavy, thick purple eyelashes fluttering just slightly. “There are no dragons in Hetar.”

Cirillo was delighted by her response. The dragon knew how to flirt. He held out his hand to her, and upon the open palm was a small silver plate covered with candies.

Ohhh,” the dragon said delightedly. “Truffles! I adore truffles. How did you know, my dear boy?” She reached out with her paw, and Cirillo saw her gold claws had painted red tips. Nidhug used those elegant claws to impale several truffles, and then she popped them into her mouth. An expression of utter bliss bloomed within her eyes. “Delicious!” she pronounced. “The best I have ever eaten, dear boy. Faerie made, I have to assume, are they not?”

He nodded.

“Put them away for now,” Nidhug said. “But I shall want them later. Can you arrange that for me?” The eyelashes fluttered again.

The flat silver plate disappeared from Cirillo’s hand. “I can arrange anything you desire, madam,” he told her.

“Nidhug,” the dragon practically purred at him. “Do call me Nidhug.”

“Are we all ready to visit the Academy now?” Dillon asked impatiently. “I think we should use our magic to get there.” Taking Cinnia’s hand in his, they disappeared. The dragon followed immediately.

Kaliq looked at Cirillo. “I recognize that look,” he said.

“Have you ever?” Cirillo asked.

Kaliq shook his head. “Never,” he said.

“I am tempted,” Cirillo admitted.

Shaking his head, Kaliq flung his robe about them and they quickly reappeared in the main foyer of the Academy, where Dillon was now taking the key to the chamber of forbidden books from Byrd. The head librarian looked askance at Kaliq and Cirillo, who were strangers to him. He frowned when Prentice joined the group.

Following Dillon and Cinnia, they entered the beautiful library. It was a large round white marble chamber filled with rows and rows of tall oak bookcases holding the manuscripts and volumes of the history, fiction and poetry of Belmair. Its roof was domed and pervious, allowing the light to pour into the chamber.

“Where do we begin?” Dillon asked Cirillo. “Prentice, stay near.”

The faerie prince began to slowly encircle the room facing the smooth walls as he did so. He stopped once. Shook his head and moved on. He stopped a second time, and when he did he was smiling. “It’s here, Dillon.”

“How do you know?” Dillon asked him. “I don’t see anything.”

“That’s because you aren’t all faerie,” Cirillo said. “Door appear. Here!”

And before their surprised eyes a small paneled oak door with a rounded top became visible.

“Give me the key,” Cirillo said, and receiving it he put it into the lock and turned it carefully. The door opened easily. The faerie prince held up a warning hand. “Wait. I need to know exactly how the door is enchanted.” He pulled the portal closed and turned the lock. The access immediately disappeared again. “Dillon, you say the spell, and let us see what happens.”

Dillon took Cirillo’s place and said, “Door appear. Here!” Nothing happened, and the doorway remained invisible to them.

Cirillo shook his golden head. “Whoever fashioned this spell didn’t want just anyone gaining access to this chamber, for only a faerie prince can open it.”

“Can you imbricate the spell?” Dillon wanted to know.

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