“Could you use your magic to bring me warm food?” Her eyes sparkled with mischief and as they laughed together, he fell in love with her all over again.

“If I could manage a disguise that convinced Yorbas Zurgah I’m a eunuch, I think I can warm your food. Here.” And he warmed her gruel right then, hoping his I-do-have-a-penis was subtle enough.

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Here I was thinking that if I’d been in an enchanted sleep and my prince needed to awaken me I’d have been out of luck.”

“Uh, in the books I’ve read, he wakes her with a kiss,” Dorian said.

“You’ve been reading the wrong books.”

Dorian coughed and blushed, and Jenine giggled wickedly.

They spoke for hours. For the next four days, Dorian warmed the princess’s meals, and the princess warmed to him. She was still devastated by the loss of her family and her kingdom and her husband, but his presence gave her hope. He saw the beautiful, sunny girl she had been emerge, and he saw evidence of the decisive, shrewd, charismatic woman she would become.

Dorian’s respect and love and desire for her grew. They were the happiest days of his life.

13

Kylar’s new right arm was still tingling. It looked just like the hand and forearm he’d lost a week ago except that it bore no scars and was the pallid shade of skin that had never seen the sun. The Wolf had thoughtfully given him a swordsman’s calluses, but the rest of his skin was highly sensitive. The slightest breath of wind sent waves of sensation. The skin was hairless, but the nails were grown in and perfectly trimmed. The little finger that Kylar had broken as guild rat and that would never fully straighten before was now flawless.

The Wolf takes pride in his work. It’s better than the hand I lost.

Kylar found his destrier waiting in the woods where he’d left it. Tribe carried him like he weighed nothing and it ate leagues for breakfast, but though he hated to admit it, the destrier intimidated him. Kylar was no horseman, and they both knew it. This morning, Tribe didn’t give any trouble as Kylar approached him carefully, absorbing the ka’kari back into his skin before he came within sight. As usual, Kylar had only worn underclothes beneath the ka’kari skin. The ka’kari could go over his clothes, but then the Night Angel looked lumpy—not exactly fear-inspiring. Tribe stared at him, making Kylar feel strangely self-conscious.

“Ah, son of a—” Kylar said. His underclothes had a huge hole right over the crotch. No wonder it was breezy. “Why do you do that?”

Tribe stared at him like he was crazy.

~Do what?~ the ka’kari asked.

“Eat my clothes!”

~I am the Devourer.~

“You could leave my clothes alone. And my swords.”

~Some people like short swords.~