He tried to speak but all that came out was a low moan. Her wings. He had to get away from them. Ohhh ... But his body wanted nothing to do with that idea. Closer. As close as could be. Inside. Oh, blast! If Sleg's wings were the epitome of seduction, then what were these?

"I'm sensitive to the environment and I had a long way to travel. The suit makes me look intimidating - I understand that you weren't expecting it. Could you please try to settle now?"

Darm looked up at her and was instantly captured by the intensity of Visherel's glowing, copper-hued eyes. She seemed to be copper all over. He couldn't see everything ... But he was driven to. Aside from being smaller, she didn't look much different than Lunam. Except for her color ... And her plumbing. Another moan made it out. "Please don't touch me with your wings," he squeaked.

"It's a pity we had to stop for the day - and that the accommodations are so paltry. Surely you can look the other way?"

He managed to roll off the edge of the narrow bed. Chunks of his scattered brain began to fall into their proper places. Humans couldn't see daemons. But they could see him - and see him flying through the air if one took him along for the ride.

He gave his head a serious shaking - that wasn't the point! "I don't know what it is about your wings, but ..." He shut up. Just thinking about it was more than enough to drive him wild. Turning around, he marched to the can, set the water in the shower to full force, and leaped in. The icy spray was a cruel beating but it finished off what his will couldn't.

Still shivering, he wrapped himself in a towel and went back. "I'll sleep on the chair." He might as well. It was broad daylight - too hard to sleep anyway. She had to fly at night, but he could crash while she was at it. Not that he wanted to go anywhere with her. Well -

"This is absurd. Come and lie down."

The Master's expression seemed a cross between puzzlement and annoyance - and Lunam had warned him not to annoy her under any circumstances. "I'm sorry. If your wings touch me I can't control the desire to ... to ..." He didn't want another shower -

"I'm only trying to comfort you. You've been so distressed. It's calming."

"It doesn't calm me. Nowhere near calm. Anything but calm."

"I was told that you're atypical. This must be an example." She tossed a pillow and a blanket at him. "We'll reach the Seventh City before dawn tomorrow." She rolled over.

Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough. He climbed into the biggest chair and pulled the blanket over himself. No. Going home couldn't come soon enough ...

***

The Seventh City was even more distracting than the First City had been. Stolen glances confirmed that everything seemed to be carved out of glittering, sea-blue ice. But he was warm as toast. And even though he'd never imagined a grander scale, he had no choice now.

The size of the buildings, the outdoor furnishing, the walkways! Almost all of the daemons he'd seen looked like little kids running around some giant's amazing world. He didn't dare look at the ones who actually fit in - even if he wouldn't have fallen over backward trying. Staying out from under their feet was enough of a challenge for his eyeballs.

As incredible as it all was, he was relieved to be led inside where. Things were a lot smaller. Visherel let go of his arm and pointed at the door closest to them, a dark, heavy looking deal with a brass knob, hinges, and a knocker.

"Your room. Dinner will be served in two hours. Someone will come for you. Make use of the time to read." She reached to a side table for the book lying on it and dropped it into his hands.

He wasn't expecting the weight of it and it almost slipped from his grasp. Would've done a good number on his toes -

"Get to it! It's not much time to complete." The Master stalked away, long coppery wings and hair flying behind her.

But it wasn't hair. It looked like spun metal - nuts! He was expected to cover the whole thing in two hours? The comfortably appointed room scarcely registered as he settled in the big armchair with the book in his lap, opened halfway in.

Incantations? Yes, that's what they were, but nothing like any he'd ever come across. Composed in everyday language - and they didn't stir any kind of an intuitive connection in him. Nothing.

Flipping to the beginning to look at the table of contents, he realized that it was nothing but chants to manage ghouls - the whole blasted thing! Literal commands, and the only differences were whether they were spoken out loud, muttered, or repeated inwardly, repetition being the key factor. It couldn't be right. Was it the translation?

His fingers went to the chain around his neck. He pulled it over his head and took it to the far side of the room, leaving it on the nightstand. He went back to the book - now it made no sense to him at all. Did the fact he was learning translated words have an effect on the, uh ... effects?

The ghouls were on ice somewhere - City of Ice ... Ridiculous. Coincidence. The daemons probably never called it that. And he had no idea if the shifters were kept here.

He needed to stop speculating. Oh, double nuts - they weren't going to use him to rid themselves of every ghoul they'd locked up since the beginning of time? That couldn't be it! Surely they wanted him to teach them how to do it, then he could be on his way? Yeah, he was sure that's what they had in mind.

Darm put the chain back on and got down to the hundreds of simple spells, hoping his photographic memory was still working ... Oh, yeah, the spirit categories -he smiled. Seemed to work well enough for nonsense, should be fine.

The crashing of the knocker on the door startled him back to the present. Two hours gone already? He wasn't done! But so much of it was repeated. Maybe he'd taken in more than he realized. He hurried to the door.

A daemon, about his own size, a pretty azure color, said, "Follow me. Dinner is ready. The Master said to bring the book."

Darm lugged it along, trotting behind 'Blue', eyeing the exquisite tapestries covering the pearly stone walls. He was led into a huge room, filled with so many huge chairs, it looked like a forest of square trees. Visherel sat at the end of the biggest table he'd ever seen. Actually, it was more like a set of giant steps, the Master at the low end, him standing near the other, well over his head.

He rushed toward her, forgetting all about 'Blue.' It had been a long time since he'd eaten and the aroma of the food he could see in front of her had his mouth watering. She pointed at the book as he got near.

"Put it down there. Fratide will take care of refiling it. Sit down and eat. There's not much time."

Darm didn't bother to say he wasn't done. He'd just have to fly by the seat of his pants - and force himself not to eat like a pig. The Master was daintily cutting up something he couldn't identify, then thoroughly chewing each little crumb. He followed suit. The delicious smell didn't do the food justice, whatever it was. Each mouthful was better than the last.

If she was in a hurry, this wasn't the way to the races. Ah! Enjoy the dinner. And it bought him time to think - not that thinking had done him much good so far.

Visherel clearly wasn't in the mood for chatting, not saying a word for the whole meal. When she finished, she got up from her chair.

"It's time. Come along."

He popped the last bite into his mouth and followed her, chewing away. He had to move it to catch up, but he stayed a couple of steps behind - just in case. Nuts. She looked back and motioned him to get closer.

"You must have questions," she said, as he struggled to match her pace and keep himself a decent distance from her swaying wings.

"The incantations are new to me. I'm wondering if something's lost in the translation."

Her hand went up. "Ghouls are stubborn pests, but uncomplicated. Once enough noise had been made to stop one, merely chanting at it will hold it. There's usually time to find the best words to sedate it - and to shut it up! The difficult part is keeping it. There can't be even a minuscule crack in the containment or the ghoul turns to vapor and slips away. Most annoying. But all of this will soon be a thing of the past."

Darm couldn't tell what tanked faster, his heart or his nerve. As if to underscore what he feared was her intention, he could make out faint wailing and squalling now, getting a little louder with each step. He gulped hard, then spoke up. "The daemons who catch the shapeshifters can easily learn how to eliminate them. It won't be necessary to lock them up anymore."

She just smiled at him - and didn't say a word.