“Then do as you are bid.” Her short black hair played around her face, as though it had a life of its own. “Or it will go very ill before you see the dawn again.”

“I told you to settle this among yourselves.” I groped for the cool reassurance of the pistol holstered on my belt, stroked the butt, the length of the barrel, found it strangely warm.

“Let him be,” a sultry voice said. “I like them foolish.” A slim, golden-haired female, almost a head shorter than Brelia, was standing in the place of what, only a second ago, I could have sworn was the stunted gray trunk of an ornamental crabapple tree.

“It doesn’t matter what you like.” Brelia arched her back, stretched like a great cat about to hone its claws. “Besides, I have given my word that none shall take him this night.”

“Except you, I suppose.” The golden-haired one smiled, and it was as though a host of new stars had burned their way through the black lining of the sky and given life to an unknown constellation. Her eyes, dark and secret, were either a deep shade of green, or ebony. I could not tell for sure, and wanted even less to know.