In one corner of their side of the partition lay a large white hound. It opened its eyes lazily when they entered the room but otherwise remained motionless. Sam realized with a start that it was no ordinary dog. Its faintly reflecting eyes revealed it as a paranimal and its scent was familiar, though he had only encountered one once. The beast was Barghest like the one that had attacked Tsung. As soon as he realized it was unchained, Sam retreated to the archway, fearing an attack. To his embarrassment, neither Estios nor Dodger showed any reaction to the Barghest. All they did was turn to look at him as though he were an idiot. Sam straightened out of the defensive crouch he had reflexively assumed and forced a smile. So, maybe it wasn’t dangerous. How was he supposed to know? It would probably still try to tear out his throat if Estios told it to.

Estios placed Dodger’s gun on a table and held out his hand. Dodger removed another, much smaller, gun from his boot and handed it over. He slipped the chain that he wore for a belt from around his waist and took a flat metal case from one pocket, passing both to the dark-haired Elf. Estios tapped hm on the right forearm.

“It is integral.”

“You’ll wear a disabler.” It was not a question.

“I have no hostile intent. My word has always been good enough for the professor, Is it less with you?”

“There are other considerations today.”

“Look,” Sam interrupted, beginning to get annoyed at Dodger’s treatment, “we’re not here to cause trouble. I was told that our visit might be of some interest to your professor. If that’s too inconvenient for you, tough. We don’t need your storm trooper act. We can leave.”

Estios seemed to see Sam for the first time. “A real Griffin. Will you vouch for Dodger’s good behavior?”

“Sure.”

“On your life?”

Sam’s answer was a little slower in coming, but he surprised himself with the conviction in his voice. “Yes.”

“Sir Twist is here at my insistence, Estios. He need not take your oaths.”

“He already has, Alley Runner.”

“I shall wear your disabler.”

“No, you won’t,” Sam insisted. “Those things can scramble circuits permanently. it’s too big a risk, Dodger, and I won’t let you take it just to have a chat about my headaches.”

“Do you understand what you’re doing?” Dodger asked softly.

“Sure,” Sam lied.

The look in Dodger’s eyes told Sam that the Elf might not really believe him, but was accepting his word. Dodger flashed him a smile that held thanks and an unexpected comradeship. “Good enough for you, Estios?”

“It’ll do,” he said with a shrug. He pointed to the chromium steel fitting on Sam’s temple. “What kind of headware do you have?” His voice indicated that he expected Sam to give a prompt, complete, and accurate answer.

“A datajack.”

Estios turned his head to the technician, who nodded. Her voice rasped through the speaker. “Consistent with the scans.”

“Aren’t you going to search me for weapons?”

Estios’s face held just a hint of contempt. “No need. You’ve been scanned quite thoroughly. Let’s go.”

Estios led them through a door and down a corridor. He opened another door and they emerged outside. A rank of small electric carts stood arrayed against the wall. Estios waved at the first one and walked around it to climb into the driver’s seat. He barely gave them time to take a seat before engaging the drive. Gravel spewed as he turned the cart onto the path leading to the mansion.

As they approached, Sam could see that it was more of a manor house than a mansion. Stone walls complete with gargoyles faced the world to protect the interior from intruders. It looked like something out of a fairy tale. Such architecture seemed only appropriate here in Tir Tairngire.

Estios pulled the cart to a stop at the foot of the steps leading to the main entrance. Without a word, he got out of the vehicle and walked up the steps. When they joined him at the top, he opened the door and ushered them into a lobby of tiled floors and half-paneled walls. Estios led them through opulent rooms furnished with antiques and fine artworks, coming finally to a large room lined with bookshelves. A blackened fireplace stood in the center of one wall, framed by ornate woodcarvings. Another whole wall consisted of windows quaintly divided into small panels. Sam suspected that they were real glass. The view of shrubbery through the windows indicated that the three of them had passed through the house to the back.

“Wait here,” Estios ordered as he opened a door incorporated into the window structure. As soon as he had exited and disappeared around the hedge. Sam stepped up to the windows, he was curious to see if he could gauge how far the estate extended beyond the city limits.

All thoughts of geographical extent vanished the moment he saw the Dragon. The beast sat on its haunches, forelimbs holding its chest above the manicured lawn. Sam knew it at once for a Western Dragon, for its huge wings were unmistakable even though folded against its flank. The great head was majestically horned and longer than any of the people gathered about it. Its scales glittered gold in the sunshine.

The crowd of Humans and Metahumans arrayed around the Dragon was divided into three parties. All the normal Humans, a pair of Dwarfs, and a large, furred humanoid stood to the beast’s right, spread out between it and a quad-engined VTOL whose insignia appeared to be a portrait of the Dragon’s own silhouette. The rest, mostly Elves, stood in a ragged, divided semicircle in front of the Dragon. One Elven contingent was aligned behind a red-headed Elf, the other behind a blond. From the blond’s gestures, he was clearly making a passionate address to the Dragon. The beast seemed unperturbed.

Estios approached the red-head’s group and whispered in the leaders’ ear. The Elf cast a quick glance at the house before nodding and saying something. Estios gave a curt acknowledgement and walked to the back of the clump.

Our host, the mysterious Professor Laverty, Sam concluded. The Elf was lanky, not as tall as Estios, but still overtopping Dodger. The curly red hair and fair skin were easily visible, but distance masked the color of his eyes. From the Elf’s calm demeanor, Sam expected that they would be discerning, imperturbable eyes. Whatever their color, it would be difficult to conceal anything from those eyes. Sam hoped that Dodger was right in bringing him here.

His gaze drifted across the other group of Elves, stopping suddenly on one familiar face. After a moment of shock, he checked the others and recognized a second face. Fear jolted him and for a moment he was running through the forest, hopeless and lost. He felt hunted again.

“We can’t go out there.” The words were barely audible; his throat was too dry.