“You did not say if it is a female or a male,” Cirillo said.

“I do not know,” Nidhug told him. “It will make that decision itself in the moment before it bursts through its shell. Come now, my prince. I am eager to enjoy another lustful bout of passion with you.” Moving to the cave’s entry, she unfurled her wings, and rose up into the midnight-black sky. He followed, and together beneath the light of Belmair’s twin moons they returned to the dragon’s castle.

Tavey awaited them. His eyes were curious of his mistress’s companion, but they widened when the pale blue dragon morphed into an extraordinarily handsome faerie prince. “Mistress,” he managed to say. “The supper is waiting.”

“This is Tavey,” Nidhug introduced her serving man. “And this gentleman is the king’s uncle, Prince Cirillo of the Forest Faeries. He is my guest. See that a place is set for him at my table.”

“At once, mistress,” Tavey bowed.

“Tavey has been with me forever,” Nidhug said as she led Cirillo to her dining chamber. “Nothing surprises him.” Seating herself at the head of the table she indicated that he was to sit on her right. He looked astounded as the food was brought in, and Nidhug swallowed down two barrels of raw oysters, three dozen broiled salmon, two dozen baked chickens, a whole side of roasted beef, a roasted wild boar and three sides of venison followed by a platter containing forty-eight artichokes that had been steamed in white wine, and were served with a mustard sauce for dipping, an enormous bowl of salad greens and a wheel of cheese, as well as several loaves of bread.

The faerie prince enjoyed such foods, but certainly in moderation. He managed a dozen of the cold raw oysters, some boar and venison, an artichoke and some salad. The wine served was a dark red, heady and rich. His goblet was never allowed to empty. They carried on a conversation as they ate. “How long have you guarded Belmair?” he asked her out of curiosity. “Being the twenty-second of your name I assume there were many dragons before you.”

“Only one,” Nidhug admitted. “My father was here at Belmair’s creation. I was hatched shortly after. He watched over it as its mortal population developed and grew. But he did not like mortals. He retired to his sanctum on Belia a thousand years later, leaving me to care for Belmair’s fate. As I was a female he advised me to put a number after my name. It would make me, make the lineage from which I sprang, seem more impressive, he said. And so I chose twenty-two. I think it is a grand number, don’t you, Cirillo? I picked Tavey and some others from among the Belmairans to serve me. Then I gifted them with lives as long as my own for I do not like change at all. When I die they will age in that instant, and die, too. Until then they remain exactly as they were when I took them into my service,” she told him. “Ah, here is dessert! I’m afraid I have a terrible sweet tooth,” Nidhug admitted as the servants brought in several sponge cakes filled with fresh whipped cream and soaked in wine, a platter of brightly colored jellies, another filled with fruit tarts, and a bowl of grapes and melon slices.

As he ate a cherry tart, Cirillo watched, delighted, as Nidhug gobbled down the cakes, the jellies and the remainder of the tarts. Her appetite was a wonder.

“Shall I have Tavey bring the bowl of fruit to my bedchamber along with some wine and restoratives?” she asked him slyly.

He nodded.

“What kind of a woman will you make me?” she asked.

“Based upon your appetite I shall make you a woman of generous proportions. Faerie women are too slender for me. I prefer a nice mortal lass with some meat on her bones,” Cirillo said candidly. He arose. “Are you ready, my dear Nidhug?”

“Tavey,” the dragon called to her servant. “Bring the fruit and some wine to my bedchamber. And when you have departed it know that I do not wish to be disturbed until tomorrow afternoon.”

“Of course, mistress,” Tavey replied with a bow, picking up the bowl of fruit and hurrying off.

When they reached the dragon’s bedchamber they found the fruit, and a decanter of wine awaiting them. The great four-poster bed had been turned down. Cirillo shut the door firmly behind them and turned the key in the lock for extra privacy. He turned to face Nidhug. “Are you ready?” he repeated, and when she nodded he said, “Dragon before me, disappear! Mortal woman now appear!”

And as he watched the dragon scales melted away, and a beautiful woman took shape before him. She was big boned with large breasts, full hips and well-fleshed thighs. Her belly was slightly rounded but not ponderous. Her hair was a deep auburn red, and her eyes were purple. Looking into those eyes he saw the dragon looking back at him. Cirillo smiled, well pleased. “You are as perfect as a mortal as you are as a dragon.”

“Let me see!” Nidhug turned about to face the large mirror that stood on the floor of the chamber. “Oh,” she said, and it was obvious she was pleased with what she saw. “I am quite a pretty woman, aren’t I? Oh, look at my nipples! They are the size and color of pale pink cherries. They look quite good enough to eat!”

“And so I shall eventually,” Cirillo promised her, smiling.

“I’m naked,” Nidhug observed. “I like the nice warm gold tone you have given my flesh.” She touched herself. “It is so soft. No wonder mortals are so easily wounded. Their skin is practically permeable. Still, it is pretty.” She turned her eyes upon him. “Why, my dear Cirillo, are you still clothed?” With a snap of her fingers she undressed him, and they both laughed. “I must say,” Nidhug complimented him, “that your manhood seems quite delightfully large. I think I shall enjoy it every bit as much as I did your dragon’s spear earlier in the cave. I thought I should be burst asunder when you put yourself into me. It was quite delicious.” She smiled into his green eyes, for he had made certain she would be of a height to do so. “Shall we get started again? What shall we do first, my dear Cirillo? You must lead the way for I only know the basics of mortal couplings.”

“Turn about, and gaze at yourself in the mirror,” he said, coming to stand behind her. He gathered up her very full breasts in his hands and fondled them, squeezing them, pinching the nipples and pulling upon them. “Take your hands and draw your nether lips apart for me,” Cirillo said. “Ah, how lovely you are, my dear Nidhug.”

“Are we going to couple or not?” she demanded to know.

“Mortals take time for love play, and you will find if you relax that such play is well suited to mortal bodies.” Holding one of her large breasts in his hand he reach down with the other hand to find her female center, tweaking it strongly.

“Oh, my!” Nidhug exclaimed.

“You see,” the prince said.

“Do it again!” she said eagerly, and he complied until she was wet and squirming; her full fleshy buttocks rubbing against his groin.

“Oh, my!” Nidhug said again as she felt the thick length rubbing between the cheeks of her ass. “But that is not where it goes?” she asked curiously.

“Sometimes, but most of the time not,” he said as he turned her about, and his mouth found hers.

Nidhug, being a dragon, had never before experienced the touch of another’s lips upon her. It was the most exciting thing she had ever known. The full lips he had given her kissed him back. Her mouth opened of itself it seemed, and she felt his tongue caressing her tongue with such fiery intensity that a moan escaped her throat. Her breasts were crushed against his chest. Her thighs pressed against his thighs. His manhood throbbed against her leg, and she felt a companion throbbing deep past her nether lips. She moaned again and he slowly backed her up against the bed, pushing her down, lifting her legs up holding them firmly, and then thrusting hard into her as he stood before her. Nidhug gasped with the instant pleasure that swept over the mortal body she now wore as again and again and again he fucked her until she was screaming with her delight, and reaching a peak, fell away into a dark, soft place. When she came to consciousness again they were both in the bed, side by side. “That was quite marvelous,” she told him. “You more than outdo your reputation.”

“My dear Nidhug,” Cirillo told her. “We have only just begun our evening of sport. It is at least five hours until the dawn, and I intend to have you in every way that a faerie man may have a dragon who wears the form of a mortal woman by the time the sun rises over Belmair.”

Nidhug shivered with anticipation. “Let us not waste a minute,” she told him. “I quite like the way in which this mortal female’s body enjoys passion.”

And they did not waste a moment of their time together in the hours that followed. But while they sported with each other, the scholar, Prentice, began his careful search through the great pile of books upon the long oak table in his first chamber. At first he was concerned, for when he had taken a volume down from the stack to peruse, the other books disappeared. But when he would reach out his hand the books would appear again, and he realized that Prince Cirillo had put a small spell upon the books in order to keep them hidden should anyone enter Prentice’s rooms. If a visitor came calling it would appear as if the scholar had only one book before him that he was studying. The wealth of information was enormous, and Prentice immediately began making notes. By the time the young king came to visit him the following afternoon the scholar knew one thing for certain. A race of faeries had once existed in Belmair. But where they had gone, and what had happened to them he had yet to discover.

Dillon sent for his wife, Kaliq and Cirillo. They arrived at the scholar’s rooms posthaste. “Here is what he has found so far,” the young king said, indicating the wealth of notes spread out upon Prentice’s oak table.

At the other end of the table the scholar was reading intently. He looked up at the sound of Dillon’s voice to the others. “There are faeries!” he said excitedly.

“What kind?” Cirillo asked him.

Prentice looked puzzled. “Faeries,” he repeated.

“We are not all alike,” Cirillo explained patiently realizing how truly ignorant of his race this mortal was. “Some of us favor the forest as my family, some the meadows, some water, others the hills and mountains. Some are as I am. Others are small, and there are those who are smaller yet, and can live in places like seashells and flowers. Like you mortals some are fair, others dark. Now tell me, if you know, just what kind of faeries have you discovered here in Belmair?”

“All I can tell you, my lord prince,” the scholar said politely, “is that faeries did once exist here in Belmair. I was not aware that they were of different species, shapes and sizes, however. I am grateful to you for this information. I have looked at books with a later date than the earlier ones in hopes of saving us time. Now I realize that I must begin with the oldest of the books.” He sighed, disappointed.

“Do not be discouraged, Master Prentice,” Cinnia said to him, patting his hand. “This is a great task you have undertaken, and I would trust no one else but you to do it.”

He gave her a wan smile. “The other scholars think little of me, I fear,” he told her. “They cannot seem to understand the importance of knowing all the history of our world. They think it unimportant, but I believe that we learn from our history, and if we do not then we will only make the same mistakes again.”

“Sometimes we do anyway,” Cinnia said, “but I agree with you nonetheless.”

“A wise observation for one so young,” Kaliq remarked.

Cinnia favored him with an amused smile. “Thank you, my lord,” she said. Then she turned back to the scholar. “Let me stay with you, Prentice. If two of us are reading we will make the work go faster, and hopefully find what we are looking for quicker.”

Prentice looked somewhat distressed. “But you are my queen,” he said. “Surely such humble pursuits are not for you.”

“I think that the scholar is uncomfortable having a woman in his chambers with him. There are no women scholars here in the Academy that I have seen,” Dillon said.

“Oh, no, Your Majesty, there are no women scholars!” Prentice burst out. “But I for one do not understand why. If the queen would like to join me then I will put aside my own foolishness, and welcome her. There are a great many books to search through.”

“I will gladly remain,” Cinnia said, and she drew a chair up to the table. “Where are the other books?” she asked.

Prentice chuckled. “A spell has been cast over them to keep them hidden until needed.” He chortled. “’Tis really most ingenious.” He reached his hand out, and the stack of books was revealed. Selecting one he handed it to Cinnia. “Here is one of the earliest texts,” the scholar said to her. “See if you can find anything of interest in it.” He instructed her as he took a second book from the pile. When he withdrew his hand the other volumes disappeared from their sight, leaving the rectangular oak table apparently empty but for the two books selected. Prentice chortled again. “So clever, so clever!” he said, delighted by this simple magic.