Cirillo offered Nidhug his best and most courtly bow. Reaching for a scarlet tipped paw he kissed the sea-blue and spring-green scales. “I greet you, Nidhug of Belmair,” he said. And I am going to fuck the scales off of you tonight, he told her in the silent, magical language.

“I greet you, Cirillo of the Forest Faeries,” Nidhug answered him. And I will suck your faerie cock so hard it will break off was her silent reply as she retrieved her paw.

Kaliq, who had heard both exchanges, struggled to keep a straight face. Aye, he thought, Dillon and Cinnia were a perfect match. Now he was beginning to seriously wonder if Nidhug and Cirillo were not a match, too. He wondered if the young faerie had mentioned the dragon to his mother. The Shadow Prince actually shivered thinking of what Ilona, the beautiful and powerful queen of the Forest Faeries, would think if she knew her son was involved with a female dragon.

Dillon and Cinnia entered the chamber, now filled with late-afternoon light.

“Welcome back to Belmair!” they greeted Kaliq and Cirillo with one voice. They laughed, turning their faces to one another and smiling.

Ah, they have fallen in love, Kaliq thought to himself, and he was glad. He wanted his only child happy, and it would appear that he was.

It is good, my friend, he heard the dragon say.

Turning to look at Nidhug, the Shadow Prince smiled at her and nodded. Then he said in a brisk voice, “Tell us, my children, what you have discovered.”

7

“I HAVE FOUND EVIDENCE that the Yafir are indeed also known as the wicked ones, my lord,” Cinnia began. “They were banished several thousand years ago from Belmair, but whether they went or not is the question.”

“Why were they exiled?” Kaliq wanted to know.

“No reason was given, but as I have explained to Dillon the reason would not have been important for our historians. The king declared it so, and therefore that would be all the explanation needed, for the king’s word is law in Belmair,” Cinnia explained.

“So all we know is that the Yafir existed, were here in Belmair and were banished because the king wanted it.” The Shadow Prince was intrigued. “And there is no proof that they either remained or departed?”

“None that we can find,” Cinnia said.

“Exactly when did young women begin to disappear?” Kaliq asked her.

“About a thousand years ago, but it was not particularly noticeable until about three hundred years ago when they began disappearing in greater numbers, and now in the last hundred years it has escalated to the point where there aren’t enough females born to serve as mothers to the next generation, which means our population is shrinking. At first the girls taken were sixteen and older. Now they disappear as young as twelve.”

“You need to learn if the Yafir are still here,” Cirillo said.

“You are faerie, Uncle,” Dillon remarked. “Could you not ferret them out so we might speak with them? Perhaps if we could learn why they are stealing these females we might be able to stop the practice.”

“I could try to find them,” Cirillo agreed. “The question is where to begin.”

“Can they be called forth?” Kaliq considered slowly. “Let me think a minute to see if I can remember the hierarchy of the Yafir so we may call their leader to us.”

“Without a name?” Cirillo said. “We need the power of name magic to reach out to them. You know that, Kaliq. Without a name the quest is hopeless.”

“I may have a way,” the great Shadow Prince said. “I must leave you briefly, but I will be back by sunset,” he promised, and hurried from the chamber. He sought out a deep shadow, and stepping into it stepped back out in his own palace of Shunnar. He was in his private chamber. Going to a cabinet, he took out a beautiful carved metal bowl and set it upon a pale wood table. Reaching for an earthenware pitcher that was filled with water, Kaliq poured it slowly and carefully into the metal bowl. He waited for the surface of the water to calm and clear. When it had he looked down into it, and said, “Satordi, lord of the Munin, come to me.”

The water in the basin darkened, and then the surface became as luminous as a mirror. It reflected a long gray face that looked up at the Shadow Prince. “Greetings, Kaliq of the Shadows,” Satordi said. “It has been some time since you have called upon the Munin for aid. How may I serve you?”

“I need the name of a Yafir high lord who hides himself in Belmair,” Kaliq said.

“An interesting request,” Satordi remarked. “Were the Yafir not sent from Belmair aeons ago? Those are memories that I know are kept by my brothers and me.”

“Exiled, aye, but whether they went is another thing entirely. Do you retain memories past the time of their exile?” Kaliq inquired.

The Munin lord thought long and carefully. “We have no real record of them after Belmair,” he noted. He grew silent again, probing the collective memory banks of his race. “An occasional snippet of passion, a bit of revelry, but nothing to indicate where they are or why we do not have their discarded memories, my lord Kaliq.”

“You, or one of your brothers, will have among the memories you keep the name of the high lord of the Yafir from that time. If he was not an ancient then it is probable that he still holds that office, for the Yafir like most of the faerie races live very long lives. Find that name for me, Satordi. Find it quickly!”

“I shall return to you within the hour,” the Munin lord said, and his visage vanished from the surface of the water in the basin.

Kaliq sat down in a large, comfortable chair, leaning back to rest his dark head, easing the ache in the back of his neck. He closed his eyes and willed himself to relax. He knew instinctively without being told that the Yafir had not left Belmair. But until he had a name to call forth it would be difficult to learn much more than that. The scent of Damask roses drifted in from his gardens on the warm air. It surrounded him, teasing at his nostrils and lulling him into a light sleep. He sat up fully awake when he realized that the Munin lord had returned. He walked over to the table and gazed down into the carved metal basin as Satordi’s face appeared to him.

“The name you seek is Ahura Mazda,” the Munin lord told him. “He had only been high lord of the Yafir for fifty years when they were told to leave Belmair. He is likely to still be their leader for the memories we retain of him are of a young and vibrant man, stubborn, proud and oft times difficult. Is there anything else?”

“Nay, there is not,” Kaliq replied. “I thank you and your brothers, Satordi.”

“To serve you, great Shadow Prince, is our pleasure,” the Munin lord responded, and then he faded away in the waters of the reflecting bowl.

Kaliq moved away from the table and back into the shadows of the chamber. He stepped out again into the room where Dillon, Cinnia, Cirillo and the dragon had been.

They were awaiting him.

“You went to the Munin,” Dillon said.

Kaliq smiled. “Aye, and I have the name we seek. It is Ahura Mazda. Now, Cirillo, it is up to you to fashion a spell that will bring this Yafir to us.”

“You and Dillon must create reinforcing spells for my magic,” the faerie prince said. “The Yafir are fairly resistant to the magic of others. They will try to repel my spell with their own so we will all have to work together.”

“And Cinnia and I can help,” Nidhug said.

“My dear dragon,” Cirillo told her, “this is serious and strong magic we must use. Your magic is not potent enough, I fear. Let us handle this task.”

“It is not beyond my magic,” Nidhug replied, “to turn you into a warty toad, if even briefly, for alas I am only a weak female, oh prince of the Forest Faeries.”

“I will be grateful to have you and Cinnia using your magic to protect ours,” Dillon said to the dragon. “We are going to need all the help we can muster.”

“Agreed,” Kaliq replied. “Work your summoning spell now, Cirillo. This Yafir must respond to you because you are both of the faerie race.”

With a little shrug and a charming smile directed to Cinnia and the dragon the faerie prince spoke. “Ahura Mazda, heed me well. A prince of faeries weaves this spell. Come to me from where you abide. From my voice you cannot hide.”

“What prince of faeries calls my name?” a disembodied voice asked.

“Show yourself,” Cirillo said.

“You did not request that I show myself. You only asked for my presence,” the voice told him smugly.

“Are you so ugly then that you hide yourself from us?” Cirillo demanded to know.

“You have my name, now give me yours,” the voice insisted.

“I am Cirillo, the son of Ilona, queen of the Forest Faeries, and her heir. These others are Kaliq, the great Shadow Lord, Dillon his son, the new king of Belmair, and…”

“I know the girl,” the voice told them. “Cinnia, daughter of Fflergant. He is dead then? And how did a Hetarian gain the throne of Belmair. Is it legal?”

“No more answers to your questions until you reveal yourself, Ahura Mazda,” Cirillo said firmly.

The Yafir high lord uncloaked himself. He was tall and slender, with eyes the color of an aquamarine and hair that was silvery-white. He was handsome in a cold way. “Very well, Cirillo of the Forest Faeries, you see me.” He was garbed all in different shades of blue with just a twinkle of gold here and there.

“Fflergant is gone, and Dillon of Shunnar rules in Belmair now. Cinnia is his queen,” Cirillo told the Yafir.

“What do you want of me?” Ahura Mazda asked.

“I have brought you here,” Cirillo said. “Now let the young king, who is my nephew, and his queen ask the questions of you that they must.” He turned to Dillon and Cinnia with a small nod.