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.She stroked its head and long neck.“Have you ever eaten a Satyr before?”The colorful Drulture flashed its teeth in the direction of Faylan, stretched its neck, and hissed.“Too big?” Selene said.“I could always feed you a piece at a time.”Faylan clenched where she lay.Selene sighed.She wanted to avenge Marlay.She had adored the dedicated and adorably evil woman who now was gone.Killed by a cursed Elf, of all things.An Elven monster, Sansla Libor, the Rover King.Someone was going to pay for that.Pay dearly.“Hmmm,” she said, twisting her hand in her robes, “every Dwarf, Elf and good human that gets in my way is going to pay.And those Dwarves will wish they’d never taken Nath Dragon in at Morgdon.Every village and every town within leagues of their mountains with cry for mercy.Because I’m going to ruin them.”She stood up and stepped down from the dais with fists at her sides.“We’ll burn their crops! Ransack their homes! Soil their fertile land with innocent blood! They’ll have to turn him over to me.That will be my ransom for peace!”She straightened her robes down over her excellent figure.“Get up, Goat Woman.I’m not finished using you yet.”CHAPTER 28“Ugh,” Nath said.“My head’s killing me.”Slowly he sat up, squinting his eyes.The light was dim, blurry, and wavering but it felt like he was waking up to the dawn’s bright light.Something covered his mouth and face.It was sticky.A thin layer of webbing.He peeled it away, swung his legs over the edge of the slab of stone he sat on, and rubbed his aching eyes.“I have a bad feeling about this,” he said.Opening his eyes for what seemed like the very first time, Nath Dragon took in a sharp breath.“Where am I?”He sat on a slab of granite, like an altar, big enough to hold three Men.The room was an octagon, with a lone candelabra flickering above.It was sparse, but the stonework was magnificent.Round columns were carved from the stone, and the floor was tiled in patterns he did not know.It made him think of the tomb in the Shale Hills where he and Brenwar had confronted the Steel Dragon with the Thunder Stone.He slid off the slab and began walking around.He wobbled and stumbled.“Guzan,” he said, grimacing, “my legs are leaden.”The chamber was big enough to hold a hundred people if not more, and a single iron door straight across from him was the only exit.“Where in Nalzambor is this?” he said.“Brenwar?”There was no answer.He shook his head and rolled his neck.It cracked and felt funny.He stretched out his great arms and locked them behind his neck, yawning a long yawn.“How long have I been sleeping this time? Feels like months.” He swallowed hard.“Oh no.”He held out his arms.His clawed hands jutted out of the heavy green robes that covered him.His fingers seemed the same as they had before, but the nails seemed a little longer and thicker.He reached back and rubbed his neck.“What?”He felt a series of bumps on his neck.They felt like hard, rigid, protruding scales.“No!”He grabbed the heavy robes that covered his chest and tore them off.His chest was covered in black scales that reflected the candlelight.“No!”Gaping, he stared at the long nails on his scaly toes and fell back against the granite altar.“This can’t be,” he said, grabbing his head and shaking it in his hands.“My face!”He ran his scaly fingers all over it and found long locks of his auburn hair.His chin was covered in a beard.He stormed through the room, looking for anything that might give him a reflection of his face.But only the door was there and it showed nothing.Gently he traced his face with his fingers once more.“I think it’s still the same.” He gave himself a once over.Everything he could see was covered in scales.And they weren’t smooth like a snake’s either.“What is this?” He ran his hand over the armor-like ridges on his arms.They were as hard as rock and metal.“I don’t think I’ll need Brenwar’s breastplate anymore.”He combed his long hair though his fingers in front of his face and shook his head.“It’s never been this long before.I wish I could see myself … I bet I look magnificent.” He sauntered through the chamber.“But first things first.Where in Nalzambor am I?”The last thing he remembered was eating enough food to feed an army, sitting at that magic table down by the river with Brenwar, Bayzog, Sasha and Ben.Licking his lips, he could still taste the pie on his tongue…His tummy rumbled.Worry crossed his features.“I’ve got to get out of here,” he said.He walked over to the iron door, started to pound on it and stopped.He’d been assuming Brenwar must be on the other side, or another of his friends, but what if that wasn’t the case?What if he was captured?If his enemies had him?And his friends were dead?The Clerics of Barnabus could easily be behind it.He pressed his ear to the great metal door and closed his eyes.A minute passed, then two.Nothing.“Hmmmm,” he said, rubbing his chin and eyeing the torches high above him
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