"I suppose there is little point in asking why you're here," said the Dalmatian. "But what could possibly give you the audacity to rob me, your King?"
"Firstly, you aren't my King and I don't think Jakob here is one to take orders either," Zivan replied casually, as though he was remarking on the weather.
"But secondly, and far more importantly, many treasured artifacts from the temple of St. Kelnar were stolen. Someone told us that they might be in your care, so we came to have a look... and guess what we found! We are simply returning them to their true owner."
While the two of them bandied words, I was reinforcing the noise-damping enchantments around the King's bedchamber. And none too soon, for the King soon lost his patience and began to call for his guards.
"Save your voice," I said. "No-one can hear your screams."
He bristled. "So... assassination too? May the Devourer take your spirits as a snack!"
That jarred me, somehow.
"What Devourer?" I asked curiously.
"The Goddess, the Devourer!"
"Oh no. Surely you're not part of some nut-cult that worships Charline."
"She is the Goddess..." his expression was bordering on rapture.
"Nonsense," I said. "She's just another 'Cubi. So am I, for that matter. If you want to worship me as well, I'm sure that can be arranged.
"Anyhow, we seem to be in a bit of a mess. I could probably erase all this from your mind, although it would be difficult, dangerous, time-consuming and worst of all, boring. On the other hand, we really do only want these relics. Perhaps we can come to some sort of compromise?"
"A compromise? Your head upon a pole, knave! That is a compromise I will accept! Such arrogance, such blatant defiance of my gods-given authority to rule over lesser Beings..."
"Stop that," I said sharply. The King didn't. With a sigh I turned to face him and revealed my headwings. He went rigid and his protestations ceased immediately.
"They say that he who can destroy a thing, controls it," I said. "We can destroy your soul. So... how about we stop this pointless bickering before things get really ugly?" The King stopped.
"Good. Now, is there anything which you would accept in exchange? Base metals? Artifacts? Services which a pair of Creatures could perform for you? And please don't say 'our heads' again or I shall get angry."
"Very well," said the King, his blustering ceased and for the first time he looked almost normal. "Two months ago, my daughter, princess Admaria was taken prisoner by a foul worm."
"A worm?" I asked, scratching my head and thinking of earthworms. Then: "Oh my gods... you mean a dragon?! Have you lost your mind?"
"I have lost my daughter," he growled. "While her mother was no good, the princess stands to inherit the kingdom. At least unless I can sire a son..."
"And you want us to rescue her?"
"I have sent many champions. None have returned. If you succeed, you may have whatever of these trinkets you desire," he said.
"And what guarantee do we have that you'll keep your word?"
"You dare to doubt the word of your King?!" he roared, puffing himself up again.
"I spy with my little eye, something beginning with 'S'," I said warningly. This was untrue since I wouldn't be able to see his soul unless he was dead, but it shut him up.
"Is your middle name 'Jonah' or something?" I asked, my voice ringing with exasperation as we made our way through the forest. "Are you so tired of life that you are trying to get us both killed?"
"As I've said before, you are under no obligation to come with me. Perhaps we can reason with the dragon."
"It will kill us! Me in particular! Rumour has it that the Dragons created the 'Cubi race by accident and have been trying to un-create us ever since!"
"You forget, we still have the exquisite statuettes from his sock drawer. When confronting a dragon, remember that your secret weapon is shiny things. Much as I am loathe to part with them, if it will buy us more and finer examples, it is a price I am willing to consider."
"But this lunacy is unnecessary! We have the keycard to the vault! We could simply have smacked that fat bastard over the head and stolen the lot!"
"We could indeed," he said with a smile, "But it would have been considerably less than sporting. This way is more of a challenge."
"I don't know why I'm doing this," I said. "But I'll come. If it really is a dragon, I may be able to take some interesting covert footage while I run for my life."
"Hush," he said and went very still. I vanished.
"Bandits again?" I whispered.
"More than likely," he whispered back.
We stood there, tensely waiting for the shadowed figure to step out from behind the trees. Instead, a single person suddenly appeared right in front of us, causing the Angel to jump.
"Good day," he began. The speaker was a large, well-muscled doberman. He had a docked tail, and his ears were trimmed, although not sticking up in the freakish manner beloved of some. He didn't have the look of a bandit, though. His clothes were too fine for someone who lived the life of an outlaw, unless of course, he had just stolen them from his previous victim.
There was a sword at his side, but unlike the Angel, he showed no inclination to draw it. That in itself was interesting... he might be a fellow adventurer, maybe even one of the champions the King had spoken of - or he could be a distraction for us while his comrades with crossbows shot us from the trees. I began to look around nervously, and opened my mind to the presence of others. And that in itself was interesting - the dog had a mind-shield. But other than that, we seemed to be alone.
"Who are you?" Zivan asked. "What do you want?"
"You may call me 'Fairwater'. I'm the royal executioner," he replied. Zivan stiffened, as did I. While the King was an evil bugger, I hadn't expected it to be quite like this.
"Where is your companion, by the way?" he asked. "He can come out now."
"You must be joking," Zivan replied.
"You misunderstand," he said. "His Majesty doesn't know I'm here. I want to speak to you both, in private."
Eying the other canid warily, I reappeared.
"Well, if the King hasn't issued a death warrant for us, why are you here?" the Angel demanded.
The executioner turned to face me. "I'm one of Us," he said, and a pair of dark, feathery wings appeared on his head for a moment.
"You were the one who decapitated that kid," the panther continued, his eyes narrowing.
"Indeed," I added disgustedly. "Incubus or not, you should be ashamed of yourself."
The incubus sighed. "That's part of the reason I'm here. Look, I can't help it. My clan feeds on pain and terror, and I personally have a big thing for humiliation as well. Beheading people in public really gives me buzz, y'know. It's the perfect job for someone with my affinities, and it wasn't for this I'd probably be murdering strangers in the forest.
"But I want you to know that just because I kill criminals for a living doesn't mean I actually enjoy doing it. Actually, I find it distasteful and barbaric. The trouble is, I'm very good at it."
"An executioner with a bleeding heart? Now I've seen everything," Zivan muttered cynically.
"Look, I don't have a problem with carrying out the death penalty once in a while. Traitors, murderers and maybe the odd rapist, their crimes are wicked and they should face their justice. If killing them gives me a high, it kind of softens the blow - well, for me anyway. But it's happening more and more. I used to be able to convince myself that they deserved death, but the kid was something I couldn't ignore.
"I guess I was trying to rationalise it, but I can't fool myself any longer The King is insane and he seems to be purging the kingdom of people he imagines might become a threat. That's not what I agreed to do, and I have to stop it."
"So why don't you just quit?" I asked.
"Because that won't solve the problem. He'll just find someone else to do it. If it's another 'Cubi, they might take more from the condemned than just their lives. No, the problem has to be stopped at the source. The King."
"An executioner turned traitor?" Zivan asked, raising an eyebrow. "I take that back. Now I've seen everything!"
"The King is on some kind of heinous power-trip," Fairwater pointed out. "I've put more people to death in this month alone than I did in the last year. Which is the bigger treason? Putting him out of his misery, or standing idly by and facilitating his crimes?"
"All this makes me wonder how many people you've already beheaded who might otherwise have been sympathetic to your cause," I remarked.
"Don't remind me," the doberman said, blanching.
"We still don't know why you're telling us this," Zivan pointed out.
"I want your mission to succeed. I want to be there when your return to the King," he said. "If I know him, he's only sent you on this mission to get rid of you. Even if you do succeed in bringing back his daughter, he'll probably say you were the ones who kidnapped her and order your deaths anyway."
"We probably won't return. The dragon will eat us," I said.
"I know. That's why I'm here. I want to help you rescue the princess."
"Well, I can't stop you following us," Zivan said, "But it would help if you made yourself useful. You could execute the dragon while you're at it."
And it will keep you from telling any interesting tales to the King, I added mentally. On the other hand we'll have to watch our backs. Someone who can happily order minors to be put to the sword is quite capable of sending an incubus to effect the secret murder of his enemies. And after all, we did break into his castle and threaten to eat his soul. I'd be a bit narked too if someone did that to me.
After two days of uneventful traveling, the three of us stood at the foot of the castle, eyeing the enormous door with trepidation.
"Well," I said, "Let's get this over with."
I pressed the doorbell and a faint two-tone chime rang somewhere in the depths of the castle. A few minutes later someone answered the door. It was the dragon.