‘All will become clear, half-breed.’ Kyphos looked up at the sun. ‘Come, it’s time to go.’

The walled city with its tall tower approached at speed as Dion swept his black wings up and down. He’d been changed for hours and used his rage and sheer determination to fight the encroaching wildness. He was desperate to know that Isobel was safe and unharmed. If he forgot who he was, he wouldn’t be able to help her.

Leaning forward, clutching the knobs behind Dion’s neck and gripping his flanks with his knees, Kyphos bellowed a command. ‘Down!’

Dion banked on the tip of a wing, turning sharply, making the hunchback cry out in alarm. He wheeled, swiftly losing height as he continued to turn in a wide circle. Down below he saw the yellow shore, the wooden pier, and fishing boats pulled up on the beach.

‘In front of the city!’ Kyphos barked. ‘Near the harbor gates!’

Dion felt the sudden desire to roll over until he shook this irritating man-thing off his back, before flying away to hunt. He blinked his huge eyes, trying to focus his attention on the shore. Putting on more speed, he now plummeted toward the city, knowing he couldn’t stay in this form much longer. He heard the rider on his back shout out with fear when he came to a sudden halt, beating his wings just a dozen feet above the ground.

Finally he landed in front of the city walls. His wings swept one last time as his four limbs touched down on the rocky ground. He shuddered at the weight of Kyphos on his back, anxious to return to his normal form. The fearful hunchback slid off and moved away.

Dion growled as he focused his attention. He had to concentrate to remind himself that he was a man, who walked on two legs and talked. With a sense of overwhelming relief, he felt the familiar sensation of changing as a mist rose and clouded him from head to tail.

The vapor shimmered and dispersed. Dion was revealed as he’d been when Kyphos came to him in his palace: a sandy-haired, athletic Galean man with pale brown eyes, wearing a thick white tunic. Hunched on the ground, he slowly climbed to his feet and looked around to get his bearings.

The tall walls of Malakai loomed over him. In front of the harbor gates, near the statue, a dozen soldiers stood in formation. Waiting at the front of the group, tugging on the braids of his beard, Palemon had his legs apart and his fingers hooked into the belt of his dark trousers.

‘Follow me, king of Xanthos,’ Kyphos growled.

Knowing he had little choice, Dion fell in beside the hunchback. As they approached, Palemon tossed something, a heavy metal hoop, to Kyphos, who caught it out of the air.

‘Stop,’ Kyphos instructed. ‘Stand still.’