‘‘After, as a matter of fact,’’ she said, then laughed again at the look on my face. ‘‘Oh, don’t worry; you’re Gabriel’s mate good and proper. Dragons mate for life, you know. He couldn’t leave you if he wanted to, and believe me, dalliances are the last thing on his mind.’’

‘‘I don’t doubt Gabriel’s fidelity,’’ I said, looking at the people as they started to blur when the train rolled out of the busy station. I had the worst urge to spill my worries out to Maata. I desperately needed reassurance that I wasn’t losing myself to the dragon heart, that Gabriel wasn’t bound so firmly to me not because I was meant to be his mate, but because of what was carried inside me. Passions faded; the gods knew I’d seen that often enough with Cyrene’s love affairs. Who was to say that the sexual attraction that Gabriel first felt for me was now replaced by his response to the dragon-heart shard?

‘‘Here we are. Mayling, you can stop scowling; I got you a chicken one since I know you don’t eat mammals. Now, what did I miss? Did you tell Maata about threatening to cut off all of that junior demon lord’s hair and glue it on backwards?’’

Maata choked on the mouthful of water she’d just taken. ‘‘Is that what you threatened Sally with?’’ she asked me.

‘‘Disregard anything Cyrene says about me,’’ I said calmly, taking a chicken sandwich. ‘‘She’s peeved because she’s going to have to earn back her wings. So to speak.’’

‘‘If you had just thrown your weight around with Neptune, he would have reinstated me instantly!’’ she grumbled. ‘‘Honestly, what is the point of having a twin who is consort to a demon lord and mate to a powerful wyvern if she won’t help out with a few little problems?’’

‘‘A list of the little problems I’ve helped you with could fill a few books,’’ I answered, giving Maata an encouraging nod. ‘‘You were going to tell us what Sally was doing there.’’

‘‘She claimed Magoth told her to go bother you for a bit, saying that you and he could split her apprenticeship. Since she’s done a week with him, it’s evidently now your turn. Once she heard Gabriel tell me to meet you, I had a devil of a time getting out without her following.’’

‘‘Did she say what Magoth was doing?’’ I asked, chewing slowly on my sandwich as I mulled the situation over. Sally didn’t worry me much—she had little to no powers as an apprentice—but I had been concerned about the lack of information regarding Magoth during the last few days.

‘‘Not really, no; just that he was still in Paris, working on a dozen or more different plans.’’

‘‘What sort of plans?’’ I asked, wondering if I should worry or if Magoth’s apparent quiet was a sign he was frustrated by lack of powers.

She shrugged. ‘‘She didn’t say, but Gabriel wasn’t worried, and I don’t think you need to be concerned. Magoth is being watched and hasn’t done anything to merit concern.’’

‘‘Yet,’’ I said, tapping my fingers on the water bottle.

‘‘I agree with Maata. I think you’re worrying about nothing. You said yourself he was powerless here,’’ Cyrene pointed out.

‘‘He may not be able to wreak the havoc and destruction that he’d like, but that doesn’t mean he’s completely harmless. And he’s inventive. I just hope he doesn’t find some source of power we haven’t thought of.’’

Cyrene happily chatted with Maata about Sally, Magoth, and pretty much any other thought that happened to occur to her. I spent the couple of hours it took to get to Onano alternating between worry about the dragon shard and how I was going to convince Magoth to help me win Chuan Ren’s release from Abaddon.

We spent the remainder of the daylight examining Cyrene’s spring to evaluate just how tainted it was and what steps she’d have to take in order to give back to the ‘‘big mama,’’ or Mother Earth in plain English.

By the time we’d helped Cyrene create a plan of action that we hoped would impress Neptune, the sun was setting, and we headed wearily into town to find a hotel and a hot meal.

‘‘They only had two rooms,’’ Maata reported, plopping down at the table we’d taken at an outdoor café located on the fringe of a busy town square. ‘‘I figured you’d probably want to share a room, but if you’d prefer one to yourself, May—’’

‘‘Not necessary,’’ I interrupted, gratefully receiving the tall gin and tonic from a handsome waiter with flashing black eyes. ‘‘Cyrene and I have roomed together before. Besides, she snores. You’d never get any sleep with her.’’

‘‘I snore!’’ Cyrene said, mustering an indignant look. ‘‘I like that! You could bring down a roof.’’

‘‘Don’t be ridiculous. Doppelgangers can’t snore. Everyone knows that . . .’’ My voice trailed to a stop as I watched a man walk across the square. It was fully dark now, and although lights from the various shops and cafés lit up the square, the very center of it had a puddle of shadow that seemed to ripple. Couples strolled around the edges, younger people laughed and joked as they darted in and out of the shops, and dogs barked as they romped after playing children. It was a typical Italian scene, with nothing out of the ordinary, nothing to make my inner warning bells sit up and take notice, and yet, that’s just what they did.

The man with dark hair pulled back in a long ponytail strode across the square, pausing in the center, where the shadows were the darkest. A woman with hair the color of a shiny penny emerged from an alley to meet him. They spoke for a few seconds; then the two proceeded on to where a small, sleek sports car was parked on a side street.

‘‘Do you have the car keys?’’ I asked Maata, my eyes narrowed on the figure of the man as he got into the car.

‘‘Yes. Do you want them?’’ She started to rummage in her pockets for them.

‘‘Stay here,’’ I ordered Cyrene, snatching up my bag. I dug out a few coins and tossed them on the table, grabbing the keys that Maata had produced.

‘‘Where are you going?’’ Cyrene asked, frowning.