“Pan,” she said, “my people are dying. I have to try to help them. I can’t reach them in time to do anything that matters if I can’t get the dragon to fly me there. I think he came to me for that reason. Not intentionally, but because of fate or chance or something beyond what we understand. He’s a gift. Please, let me use him.”

Pan took a quick breath and exhaled. Without a word—so deeply in love in that moment he could barely stand it—he walked over to her. He formed a cup with his hands and bent to offer her a foothold. She leaned down and kissed him on the face, then put her foot in his clasped hands and boosted herself onto the dragon’s neck.

Pan stepped back. The dragon did not react to the sudden change in weight. He stayed where he was, watching the play of the Elfstone magic against the earth in front of him. He seemed almost oblivious to the presence of his rider.

“Now tie the ends of the cloaks together beneath his neck,” she said.

Again, Pan did what was asked, his efforts painstakingly cautious, the heat of the dragon’s breath raw and sharp against his skin as the beast bent close to watch.

“Let me go with you,” he said.

But Phryne Amarantyne shook her head. “He won’t allow it. He won’t permit anyone to ride him but me. I can sense it, Pan. This gift is mine and mine alone. I have to do this by myself. You have to let me.”

He started to protest and then stopped himself. He knew it was useless, that she wouldn’t relent.

“Take the staff and go back to Glensk Wood and Prue,” she told him. “Find out what has happened there. You have to help your people, too.”

Her hands stripped off the belt she was wearing, and she hooked it to a cluster of knobs and horns directly in front of her, cinching it tight. She placed her free hand on the belt, securing her grip.

“You see, Pan?” She smiled. “I won’t fall off.”

She raised the blue light to eye level, and the dragon’s head swept up. The huge body shifted and the beast came to his feet, wings spread wide. Pan moved back, giving him more space, his eyes still on Phryne. But she wasn’t looking at him anymore, her gaze shifting between the dragon and the distant north.

Then she swept the Elfstone light skyward in a blaze of bright azure, and the dragon lifted away, his great wings flapping, his body stretching out, and his spiked tail whipping sideways.

“Good-bye, Pan!” Phryne called back to him.