He shrugged out from under my hand, fiddling with his robe. “We’re on rather poor terms at present.”
“Well, it’s never too late to apologize! I mean, hey, if you want tips on how to kneel and beg, you’re looking at the expert.” I beamed my brightest, most encouraging smile.
“Fine. But I’ll need to remove a toe.” A spidery hand disappeared into his robes, reemerging with a glint of silver.The wicked blade he’d used to prick himself on the seaside cliffs.
I blanched. “Yours, or mine?”
“Mine. Why would it be yours? Never mind, just . . .” The sorcerer grimaced. “Do it in one stroke. I enchanted the knife; it should cut true. If you resort to hacking, I will . . . vomit on you.”
“If that’s the best threat you can manage, then I fear for our intimate life.” I accepted the knife from him, evaluating its cold weight.
“Cameron, quell your perversion just this once and cut my damn toe off. This one here.” Merulo slipped off a shoe and pointed at the smallest toe. Judging from their knackered length, he hadn’t cut his nails in some time. Squatting with the faint embarrassment one usually feels when handling feet, I pried the toe away from its brethren and placed the base of the blade above it, a guillotine in miniature.
Before committing to the cut, I said, “Are you sure? If a gesture of appeasement is needed, there’s got to be a way that doesn’t involve mutilation.”
“That’s not . . .” The sorcerer threw back his head, exasperated. “It’s for the spell. Dragon bodies are a powerful source of magic. I may be drained, but that doesn’t mean I cease to be a resource.”
In other words, a spell he’d usually cast with less effort than a belch would now cost a minor digit. Poor Merulo. Without another thought, I pressed down on the blade, meeting only the briefest resistance. Merulo gave a banshee wail and scrambled away from me. His jaw hung open, uncomprehending.
“I thought it’d be better without build-up,” I said, shaken. “Anticipation can be worse than the actual thing.”
“No,” the sorcerer finally managed. “No, I’d say the actual thing is worse. Damn it.” Bringing the torn corner of his robe to his mouth, Merulo ripped off another strip with his teeth and packed it around the gushing stub.
The toe lay like the pale larva of some unmentionable insect in a spreading pool of blood. Pressing admirably through his pain, Merulo seized it and, using the cut end like a quill, smeared a crude sigil onto the rocky ground. He placed the toe in its center and uttered an incomprehensible plea. Violet flames erupted, consuming the forsaken digit.
The voice that emanated from the fire was deep, and full of startled outrage. “You dare? After pawning my microwave?”
Merulo kneaded his forehead. His hands still shook from the shock of amputation. “Hydna, I wouldn’t call if the situation weren’t dire.”
A growl of frustration made the flames flicker. “Why can’t I end this call?”
“Because I am burning my own body to maintain it,” the sorcerer snarled. It seemed a poor time for one of his tantrums, so I waved at him frantically and, catching his eye, mimed an exaggerated smile.
“Merulo . . .” The voice sounded concerned now. “I’m opening a portal. Come through immediately.”
The sorcerer hesitated, casting a regretful look at me. “Not without my library. It must be moved to safety.”
“Then die with your books,” the flames spat.
I jumped in before things could devolve further. “Please, sir, or . . . ma’am? Merulo has told me about how sorry he isfor slighting you, regarding the . . . uh . . . micro . . . Anyway, he has deep regrets, really. And we’re hoping, in the spirit of your past relationship, that you can find it in your heart to grant Merulo help in his hour of ne—”
“Who is that?” the voice interrupted. I stopped, wondering whether to introduce myself.
“A friend,” snapped the sorcerer. Relinquishing the negotiations to him, I scoured the fog around us, watching for dark shapes that might betray the approach of knights.
“You don’t have friends.”
“Enough talking.” Even drained and down a toe, the sorcerer maintained his arrogance. “Either you bring through my books, or I’ll have Sir Cameron here cut off my hand so that I can accomplish the task myself.”
Muffled oaths. Then: “You rat bastard. Stand back.”
I was busy mouthing ‘I most certainly will not’at Merulo, and was thus quite taken aback when the air split open to reveal the second dragon of the day.
Before the portal could fully unfold, the monster burst through, a behemoth of burgundy wings and scale-draped muscle. I recoiled, reaching for a sword I didn’t have, while Merulo rose to greet the thing.
The dragon’s coils disappeared every which way into the fog. Its eyes, a reptilian crimson, were as big as my balled fists.
“Are you like, a baby dragon?” I whispered, as I discreetly positioned Merulo between myself and the monster. He smacked me on the arm, muttering something about sexual dimorphism.
