“So why do those two men who you think are dragons want it if it’s so bad?”

“The ring is not bad in itself; it’s the user who dictates whether it is used for good or evil. And all the dragons, not just those of the black sept, have sought the ring since the weyr was destroyed. But that is a long story, too long to tell you now.”

“Uh-huh.” I held out my hand and looked at it. “Since I didn’t disappear when I put the ring on, I don’t quite see what’s magical about it.”

He chuckled. “It’s not a Tolkien sort of ring. Its magic is… unique. That is, it’s unique to whoever wields it and whatever the ring wishes to be used for.”

I looked at the ring, half expecting a wee pair of eyes to look back at me. “Wow, that’s… weird.”

“As I said, it is unique.”

“It’s pretty, though. I just hope,” I said, starting to pull the ring off, “this isn’t one of those bad kinds of ivory, like from an elephant or something. I’m a firm believer in karma, and I don’t want to think what sort of horrible thing will happen to me because I admired a dead elephant ring.”

“Ivory? Oh no, it’s horn.” That twinkle was back for a moment. “Unicorn horn, as a matter of fact, and I can assure you that the unicorn in question donated her horn for the purpose of reinforcing it.”

“Riiight,” I drawled, and removed the ring. I was just about to hand it back to him when a blood-chilling scream ripped high into the night air, so loud we could hear it clearly over the throb of music.

Two

Terrin was off before I could even process the fact that someone was in serious trouble; mercifully, it wasn’t long before my wits returned, and I legged it after him. I thought at first the screaming was coming from the demon tent but quickly realized that the noise came from beyond it, toward the big open field that served as a parking area. Two other people were running in the same direction—a big, blond man who seemed to be made of muscles and a small elderly woman with black-and-white hair. I passed by the latter, but the blond dude was well ahead of me. As I raced around the tent and hit the open area, I stumbled and would have fallen if the elderly woman hadn’t caught my arm before I fell.

Ahead of us, lit by a small portable light, were four rows of cars. Terrin stood in front of the first row, facing a tall, thin man who seemed to be wielding some sort of sword. A woman lay prone on the ground between Terrin and the man, and before my brain could process what I was seeing, the thin man with the sword flung his arms upright for a moment, so that the sword glinted dully in the night sky. With a terrible flash, he brought it down, right on Terrin’s shoulder, slashing downward through him, almost completely severing his arm. I was left sick and numb with horror, a great yawning pit of terror seeming to open at my feet. I tottered on the edge of it, trying desperately not to faint.

The mangled Terrin fell almost on top of the woman.

The blond man ahead of me leaped on the Terrin-killing man, and for a second, I saw something silver flash between them. Then the sword-man was gone—there one second and gone the next—leaving only a thick curl of black oily smoke that hung heavily in the air before slowly dissipating. I stopped dead where I stood, trying desperately to make some sense of what had happened, my brain shrieking that I had to do something to help Terrin.

The old lady passed me and reached the spot where Terrin lay dead, lightly vaulting over an inky pool of blood that stretched out from his inert form just as the blond man spun around and picked up the immobile woman.

I dropped to my knees, my legs suddenly unable to hold my weight, and watched with disbelieving eyes as the man staggered back toward me carrying the woman, while the old lady trotted beside him, talking rapidly in a heavily accented voice. “Take her to my trailer, Kurt. She isn’t harmed, just stunned, although it was foolish of her to try to deal with the demon on her own. It’s not as if she’s a Guardian…”

Neither of them spared me so much as a glance as they passed by. I stared after them for a second before turning back to look at where the dead and mangled body of my almost-boyfriend lay.

“Hey,” I tried to yell, but the word came out a scratchy whisper. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Hey, you can’t just leave him. He needs help.”

By now the couple was almost back to the center of the Faire and evidently didn’t hear me, or didn’t care, because they kept walking.

Bile rose in my throat when I looked at what remained of Terrin. I knew I should do something—maybe he wasn’t dead. Maybe he was just stunned? Maybe his arm could be put back on.

I retched at the last thought, doubling over and heaving up everything I had eaten before the band started playing. When my stomach settled again, I crawled over to where Terrin sprawled, tentatively reaching out to touch his neck.

He was still warm, but I didn’t feel a pulse.

I got to my feet somehow and instinctively stumbled my way back toward the lights and noise of the Faire, back to where there were people other than me who could take charge of the situation and make the nightmare end.

By the time I reached the closest booth—closed now—I was gasping for air. Up and down the aisle all the booths had closed down. Music still pulsated from the big tent, but there wasn’t a single person to be seen. A few crows hopped around, pecking at spilled popcorn and other debris, but other than them, there was no living creature to be seen.

With a shaking hand, I pulled out my cell phone and dialed the emergency number. “There’s a man… a friend… Some guy hacked him down with a sword, then disappeared into a puff of smoke,” I told the woman who answered. My throat was so tight that my voice came out like gravel. Sharp, pointy gravel.

“Smoke?” the woman repeated.

“Yeah, black smoke. He was there, and then he wasn’t.”

“People do not turn into smoke, madam.”

“This guy did. Can you please get the police out here?”

“Your location?” the woman asked.

I told her where I was and that the murder took place in the parking lot.

“Are you sure your friend is dead?”

“Yes,” I squawked.

“Did anyone else see this alleged attack?”

“Alleged? It wasn’t alleged! It happened right in front of me. Look, I realize it sounds odd, but the sword guy attacked my friend and then just went poof! Disappeared! And, yes, there were two other people there who saw it, so would you please send the police out? Who knows where that madman is, and my friend is lying dead on the ground, and he has no pulse and… and…” I broke down, unable to take it anymore.