“Why not now?” I asked, feeling betrayed and disappointed.

“Teach him? Never, never!” Treble protested, tail whipping almost into the fire. Her voice had that same deep resonance that Bis’s did, but was more musical. Glaring at Bis, she spread her wings and hissed, her long, forked tongue raised aggressively.

The air seemed to crack, and my mouth dropped open when ever-after cascaded over Al to turn him clawed, winged, and blacker than sin. Treble cowered, abasing herself and going utterly white. I pressed back into the chair with Bis, horrified.

Like Dante’s demon, Al stood over her, wearing nothing and his well-endowed privates not so private anymore. The hint of hard muscle I’d seen under his shirt was like sheets of obsidian, throwing back the firelight in gleams of red. He blinked, his red, goat-slitted monstrosities chilling me. Was this what he really looked like, or was it simply what scared Treble the most? On my wrist, Bis shivered, stinking like cold iron.

“You refuse?” Al hissed, his new forked tail shifting like it had a mind of its own, curling about to tuck under Treble’s chin and lift it. “Why do you think I let you live this long?”

“Oh God, no,” Treble whispered, her wings spread so the tips came to a point past her bowed head. “If I teach the young buck, you’ll kill me!” she added, squirming to get out from under him, her skin a pale white. “Like you did my mother and brothers!”

“Kill you?” Al said, his voice like gravel and his tail whipping back around himself. “No. I want you to teach Bis so he can teach her. Look at them. Tell me I lie.”

I shrank back even deeper into the burnt-amber-smelling cushions as Treble sent her golden eyes over me. They flicked to Bis, and her lips pulled back from her pushed-in face, and she smiled wickedly. “Fortunate, fortunate witch,” she said slyly. “But teach him? Why? The little gravel pit has no finesse, he’s tearing holes every time he jumps.” She turned her gaze on Bis, her skin darkening. “Don’t think we can’t hear what you’re doing, stumbling into lines, breaking songs and rhythms, making everyone else step to your stumbles!”

Bis lowered his ears, and I put a hand on his shoulder. God, Al looked scary. Hung like a horse. No way was he getting anywhere near me.

“That’s why you’re going to teach him … Treble,” Al said, his voice precise and so low that it was almost hard to hear. “We can’t have a repeat of this evening.” Looking like the devil, he turned his goat-slitted eyes to Bis in recrimination, and Bis’s breath caught.

“Don’t worry, Bis,” I said, putting a hand on his clawed foot. “You can’t know how to do it right unless someone shows you properly,” I said pointedly. Clearly Pierce hadn’t.