“The agreement was for the shard,” Kostya yelled. “You will get use of the shard until May can re-form the heart and reshard it. That is all! The rest of the lair belongs to the black dragons!”

“Yeah!” Cyrene said.

I slipped down the edge of the rock, back to the almost-invisible pathway where Magoth lay gently snoring.

Gabriel watched me for a moment.

“Kostya’s right,” I told him, overriding the shard’s demand that I take it to the gold. I separated my mind from it, and started the process of shifting back to my own body again. “Much as I would love to see the gold that smells so very nice, we did agree to the shard only in exchange for our support with the weyr.”

Gabriel sighed heavily, but jumped off the stones and returned to my side, waving one hand at Kostya. “I bow to my mate’s demands. I will not challenge you for the lair so long as you let us use the Modana Phylactery.”

Kostya wasn’t happy over the idea of letting the shard go, even temporarily, but he had agreed to the terms, even if he was now regretting them. He nodded curtly at Gabriel and, grasping a convenient bit of vine, swung himself over the edge of the hole into the yawning darkness. Cyrene started to follow, stopping when his head popped back up, a familiar scowl on his face.

“This is my lair, Cyrene. Only black dragons may gaze upon its treasures.”

“I’m your mate,” she said, trying to shove his shoulders aside so she could climb into the hole.

He sighed heavily, casting me a plaintive look.

“You made this particular bed,” I told him, wrestling with the shard to regain control over my body. “I’m afraid you’re going to be lying on it alone. Dammit, Gabriel, the smell of gold is too much for me. I can’t shift back to my normal form here. I’m going to have to do it somewhere else.”

“I am so your mate! Well, all right, not technically, but I’m mate lite, so that counts.”

“Then we will go somewhere you feel more comfortable,” Gabriel said immediately, pushing a branch out of my way. I knew he would prefer remaining to take charge of the phylactery that Kostya would retrieve from the lair, but he selflessly escorted me up the almost-invisible path.

“No, it doesn’t count,” Kostya said as we left. “You are not a black dragon, Cyrene. I appreciate your help and support—”

“Oh! I like that! You string me along and now you dump me just when things are going good? Well, I have a few things to say about that, Mr. Dragon!”

Luckily, we moved out of earshot of Cyrene’s harangue. It took a good five minutes before we were out of the range of the scent of gold and I was able to catch my mental breath and take charge of myself again.

Savian and Jim followed along after a few minutes.

“Sorry. Don’t mean to intrude,” Savian apologized as Gabriel stood gently stroking my back while I pushed the dragon form back into a more familiar one. “But your twin is a little . . . er . . .”

“Bitchy,” Jim said, snorting when the last of the silver scales disappeared into beige-ish skin.

“Vehement,” Savian corrected with a smile at me.

“ ‘Vehement’ doesn’t threaten to drown someone in their lair. ‘Bitchy’ is all over that,” Jim pointed out.

“Agathos daimon,” I swore softly to myself, glancing at Gabriel. “If she’s threatening him with water, she’s really pissed. I suppose I should go back and intervene.”

“You’ll shift again,” he pointed out. “I’ll go.”

“I don’t think she’ll listen to you,” I said as he started back the way we had come.

“Does she ever listen to anyone?” Jim quipped.

“Quiet, beast,” I told it, about to go after Gabriel when Cyrene appeared, hauling a befuddled-looking Magoth after her.

“That’s it!” she yelled as she caught sight of us. Her free hand gestured wildly. “I’ve had it! I’ve totally had it with that . . . that . . .”

“Dragon?” I offered as she pulled up to a stop in front of me. She let go of the hold she had on Magoth, who collapsed to the ground with a particularly fatuous leer toward me.

He was still naked, although no longer aroused, and had managed to lose the small shrub on his foot, but he wore a coronet apparently made up of an ancient, unused bird’s nest, dirty spider silk, and a small clump of leaves sprouting from the region of his left ear.

“There you are, sweet May. Was it as good for you as it was for me?” Magoth asked.

“Better,” I said, letting myself smile just a little.

Gabriel gave me a look that let me know he didn’t appreciate it. I immediately rearranged my expression into one of serenity. “Cy, please tell me you didn’t flood Kostya’s lair.”

“No, I didn’t, but not because he didn’t deserve it,” she said, snapping off each word. “I wouldn’t waste precious water on that . . . beast! Do you know what he said to me?”

“Yes,” I said, taking her arm and cutting off the rant I knew she so desperately wanted to make. “I think it would be better if we were to go back to town. Gabriel?”

He hesitated a moment, casting a glance toward the trees that screened the entrance to Kostya’s newfound lair. “You go. I’ll follow with Kostya.”

I nodded and gave Cyrene a nudge. “Come on, twin of mine. Let’s go back to town and get a drink. You look as if you could use one, and I certainly wouldn’t mind a belt or two, myself. Gabriel will make sure your boyfriend is all right.”

“He’s not my boyfriend anymore. We’re through. Do you hear me? Through! I’m done with him! Although I would like a drink. Do you think they have lemon Perrier? You know how I love that.”

“I also know how drunk you get off it,” I said, leading the way. I gave the lair a wide berth as I headed us back in the direction of the town. “Only a water elemental could find carbonated water literally intoxicating. But if you’re a cheap date, at least you’re an easily pleased one.”

“You gonna leave your boss here?” Jim asked.

I released Cyrene’s arm, turning to frown at where Magoth lolled on the ground. He stroked a hand sensuously down his filthy, leaf-bespecked chest.

“Much as I am tempted to do just that, I suppose the mortal world is safer with someone keeping an eye on him.”