"Don't say it," Ford warned.
"It's calling me," I said. Joff slapped his face with both hands. "Why. Is it always you, my lady?"
"And," I added, because honesty was important, "it sounds suspiciously like an Animal Planet narrator telling me this is where the plot thickens."
Chubby snorted. "I told you not to listen to documentary voices."
"I didn't ask for this!"
Still, we moved. Quietly. Quickly. No banners. No horns. Just boots, hooves, and the soft hum of mana-tech as we left the safety of the road and cut toward the rising dark shape on the horizon. Halfway there, I sighed and opened my pouch.
"Raya," I said. "You're up."
There was a dramatic pop, a swirl of light, and then she emerged in her cute form. Small. Two-headed. Cat-sized dragon. One head yawned. The other hissed at nothing in particular. Lava-colored scales shimmered faintly, like embers under ash.
Prince Ford stopped walking. "…Is that," he said carefully, "a two-headed dragon kitten?"
Raya preened.
