They reached Beldane, and Dillon was charmed by the lovely meadows and glens of the land below him. The duke’s gracious manor house was set upon a small hill. Below, his vineyards stretched out, and from above, the workers harvesting the grapes could be easily seen as they went about the business of clipping the bunches of grapes, and setting them gently in willow baskets. Seeing the dragon as she descended, they cried out, pointing skyward. One ran from the vineyards toward the manor house.

Nidhug landed on a gravel path before the house, disembarking the king. Folding her wings, she shrank herself down. She was taking no chances with being fed slops this day. Duke Tullio hurried from the house, a lady by his side. He was a very tall, slender man with thoughtful gray eyes. He bowed low.

“Your Majesty! This is most unexpected, but you and Belmair’s dragon are more than welcome to Beldane and to my home. This is my sister, the lady Margisia, who serves as my hostess as I am widowed.” He drew the lady forward, and she curtseyed.

Dillon greeted them both, and then he said, “We must speak on matters most serious affecting Belmair, my lord duke. Take me to your privy chamber, and I will begin my discourse. Nidhug will join us.”

“Will you honor us at the midday meal, Your Majesty?” the lady Margisia asked.

“We will!” Dillon said enthusiastically.

“I have a particular fondness for sweets,” Nidhug said to the lady Margisia.

She appeared somewhat startled to have the dragon address her so directly. She gulped as discreetly as she could, and replied, “I will tell our pastry chef.”

“I am one of those irritating creatures who can eat all and everything they desire, and never lose my figure,” Nidhug noted. “I shall look forward to our meal.”

Duke Tullio led them to his book-filled library, and offering them refreshment, he looked to Dillon. The young king carefully explained the serious problem that Belmair was facing from the Yafir. Tullio listened closely and when Dillon had finished, he said, “You are absolutely certain this creature you summoned was Yafir?”

Dillon nodded.

“Hmm,” Tullio said. “But how can you be certain that they did not leave Belmair when they were ordered to go?”

“Because Ahura Mazda said they did not. He had no reason to lie, and he has admitted to stealing the women over the centuries that have passed,” Dillon replied.

“Perhaps he has just said that to you because he wanted to frighten you,” Tullio responded. “You say he has no reason to lie to you, but how can you know that?”

“I am sure that this Yafir is quite capable of lying,” Dillon said. “But knowing the nature of faeries like him, he is less apt to lie when he feels he has the upper hand. Indeed he will brag in a case like that which, of course, he did.”

“But-” Tullio began.

“Enough!” Nidhug said. “We know what has happened to the young women of Belmair, yet you attempt to argue the point to what end, I cannot imagine. The king has told you what we have discovered. He has told you what we propose to do. All that is required in this matter is your cooperation, my lord. Send to your villages and farms that their young women cannot be left alone. Prepare a place where you may gather them all together when Prince Cirillo’s spell is completed. Do you understand?”

“But what if this faerie creating the spell is actually helping these Yafir?” Tullio wanted to know. “Have you considered that?”

“This faerie is my uncle,” Dillon said. “Like me, he was schooled by Kaliq of the Shadows. He is totally trustworthy. If you do not trust him, my lord, then you cannot possibly trust me.”

“Nay, my lord! You are the king. The dragon’s choice! I trust you without question,” Duke Tullio protested.

“Then you must trust my uncle, as well, my lord, for I would trust him with my life,” Dillon told the duke.

“I will follow your instructions to the letter, Majesty,” Duke Tullio responded.

“I would think so,” Nidhug said irritably. She was hungry now, and knew that she had a long flight ahead of her if they were to be home tonight.

“I thank you,” Dillon said.

They repaired to the Great Hall of the manor house, and were offered a midday meal. Then, thanking Duke Tullio and his sister, the lady Margisia, they departed Beldane for home. The sun was setting as they finally arrived at Belmair’s royal castle. Nidhug dropped down onto the flat roof of the battlements, her great wings coming slowly to a stop and folding themselves against her sides. Nidhug immediately shrank herself down.

“I have had enough of flying, Majesty, and will walk the distance between our homes,” she said. “Sarabeth will have a most excellent meal for me. The woman is a treasure. But first let me pay my respect to Cinnia, and we shall tell her of our visits to the three dukes.”

Together dragon and king descended from the battlements down a staircase into the Great Hall of the castle. Reaching it, they saw there was no fire in the fireplaces, which Dillon thought odd. Even when there was no one in the hall the fires were kept going. There were no servants in sight, either.

“Cinnia will be in the family hall,” Dillon said.

But when they reached it the hearth was also cold, and there was no one in sight.

Nidhug experienced a shiver down her back.

“Britto!” Dillon called out. “To me!” His senses were tingling.

Britto came running at the sound of his master’s voice. His fat cheeks were pink with the exertion. His blue eyes were red with apparent weeping. “Majesty! Majesty!” he cried, and he flung himself at Dillon’s feet sobbing.

“What is the matter?” Dillon demanded to know.

“The Yafir have taken the queen!” his steward sobbed.

“How do you know this?” Dillon asked the man.

“We were here in the little hall last night,” Britto began. “After the evening meal the queen had gone to her apothecary to do some work. I went to tell her that we would need a new serving girl in the kitchens, and to ask her permission to hire one. Then he appeared. He caught the queen’s hand, and they argued but he said, ‘Come, Cinnia. You are mine now, for I marked you from your birth.’ And before she could protest they were gone, Your Majesty. There was naught we could do. I swear it!”

“This is all my fault!” the dragon cried, distraught. “I should not have left her!”

“Nay, it is not your fault. Even surrounded by servants, the Yafir were able to take Cinnia. What little magic you taught my queen, my sorceress, was not enough, for your gifts lie in protecting Belmair, Nidhug,” Dillon comforted the dragon.

Still the dragon wept large tears in her sorrow.

“Light the fires in both halls, Britto,” Dillon said. “Nidhug, cease your caterwauling. It does not help matters. Sit down! The fire is being rebuilt.” Dillon drew in several long, deep breaths. This did not bode well for a peaceful solution to the problems between the Belmairans and the Yafir. He watched while the fire sprang up, and soon it was blazing merrily. The room was warming.

“What are we going to do?” Nidhug, who had finally recovered herself, asked.

“I intend to summon that bold Yafir. He has no choice but to answer my call for I am stronger than he. Ahura Mazda, hear me well. A Shadow-faerie weaves this spell. Come to me! You must obey! Or see your powers melt away.”

“What do you want, Dillon of the Shadows?” the Yafir’s voice asked irritably. But he did not show himself.

“Reveal yourself, sly one!” Dillon commanded him. “Or are you afraid to face me, Ahura Mazda?”

The Yafir laughed. “Why should I be afraid of you?” he said, still cloaked.

“Your childishness wearies me,” Dillon replied, and pointing with a single finger he tore away the Yafir’s cloak of invisibility.

Revealed, the Yafir looked annoyed. “What do you want of me, king of Belmair?” he said.

“Return my wife immediately,” Dillon told him.

“Nay! She was marked from her birth for me,” was the surprising reply. “Each female child born in Belmair is marked at birth by one of our own. Then when they are grown if that Yafir wishes to take that female he does. Cinnia was selected to be mine,” Ahura Mazda said. “I took only what belonged to me.”

“Cinnia and I were joined under the ancient laws of Belmair,” Dillon responded.

“The laws of Belmair mean nothing to the Yafir. We have our own codes of honor and behavior to live by,” Ahura Mazda said.

“Resign yourself to the fact that you will never again see Cinnia.”

“Do not force me to destroy the Yafir,” Dillon said grimly.

“If you could destroy us you already would have,” Ahura Mazda answered him.

“That is where you are wrong, Yafir,” Dillon spat. “I prefer the ways of peace to those of war. I would make a long-lasting peace between the Yafir and the Belmairans. I would right the wrongs done to you by that Belmairan king so long ago.”

“Do you think I do not know what you have been doing, what you plan?” Ahura Mazda said angrily. “You seek a spell to keep our women from us! Without the women our race will die. I will not let you do that, king of Belmair!”

“You have grown greedy in your desires, Yafir,” Dillon replied. “The women are Belmairan, and without them our race will die. I will not let you do that!”

“You cannot stop me, son of Kaliq! Soon we will outnumber you, and when we do we will take this world and drive you from it as the Belmairans once tried to drive us! You do not even know where we hide ourselves. We come and we go as we choose.” He sneered. “You must find us before you can accomplish that which you seek to do. But you will not find us. No one ever has. Force me to face you as many times as you want, king of Belmair. My presence will do naught for you. Cinnia is mine. Soon she will whimper beneath me, begging me for my favors. And if she pleases me I will grant her ecstasy such as she has never known. I have waited long to mate with her. Now let me go! There is no purpose in my remaining here with you, is there?” And Ahura Mazda was gone in a puff of scarlet smoke.

Dillon looked stunned. Not simply by the Yafir’s words, but by the fact that he felt helpless. Dillon, son of Kaliq of the Shadows and Lara, daughter of Ilona, queen of the Forest Faeries, felt totally helpless for the first time in a very long while. The last time, the only time he could remember this feeling was when his mother had been stolen by the Twilight Lord. He had only been a boy then, and untrained in the ways of magic. But he was a man now, and considered a great sorcerer. Yet he felt powerless to do anything to help himself, or to help Cinnia.

“Call to your father,” Nidhug begged him.

“Nay,” Dillon said as suddenly he felt strength flowing back into his veins. “I am a man now, and not a child, Nidhug. Eventually I will ask my father for his aid, and possibly my mother, as well. But not now. Belmair is mine to care for and rule over. Therefore I must find a solution to this puzzle I have been given to solve. What good are my powers if I cannot use them successfully? Cinnia is safe. The worst that can happen to her is that the Yafir overcomes her reluctance to mate with him. He can only do that by working some sort of enchantment. And I must accept that he will and sooner than later. He thinks that like a mortal I will consider my wife soiled, and no longer worthy of my love. But Ahura Mazda is wrong, Nidhug. Cinnia and I are more than husband and wife. We are soul mates. There will be no golden light and crackling of lightning when the Yafir takes her. Of that I am certain,” Dillon said with a small smile.

“What if she gives him a child?” Nidhug asked.

“She will not,” Dillon said. “I set a silent spell upon her when we were first wed, for I did not want her with child until we had settled this matter. A child might have been used against us in this dispute. Even if the Yafir discovers my spell, he cannot reverse it. Only I can do that. But I need to find an advantage over this bold Yafir lord. I must learn where they dwell, for they know where we dwell. That is their greatest secret, Nidhug.”

“How will you do that?” the dragon asked him.

“It will take time,” he admitted to her. “I will have to cast any number of spells. One will flow into the other, and the next and the next until the answer is revealed. It is very much like peeling an onion, my dear Nidhug. Now go home, and let Sarabeth feed you, my good dragon. I must go to my tower to begin my work.”

“I shall not eat a thing,” Nidhug said sadly as she left him. But when she reached her own castle across the gardens, Tavey and Sarabeth, already privy to the news of Cinnia’s kidnapping and knowing how distraught their mistress would be, were waiting with her favorite foods, and spent a long evening coaxing some of them into the dragon.