“They’re thieves,” Rach growls.

“And weasels!” That’s about Felicia’s crudest insult to date, and I pat her shoulder, grinning.

In the end, it’s Rach’s boot that persuades the demons to leave us alone. Nothing like a kick in the ass from a sword-wielding banshee.

I’ve already hit the ground before Aries launches into the air. The dragons’ frenzied departure stirs the sandy soil, eddies of red rising to surround us.

The sun overhead is an unwelcome furnace when the Dragonriders find us with Aries at the fore. I’m too thirsty to care. His blue eyes remind me of water.

Despite my reservations, we decide to head north. Felicia wants to rent a Travelers’ colorfully striped wagon, but I insist unicorns are a safer bet.