Billowing flowers curled along the edge of a pastel hillside. Sunbeams, artificial yet no less radiant, caressed the pliant bodies of two figures rolling in a soft heat. He clasped her with an iron grip, and she replied, on his shoulders, with all the power her claws could muster.

There on the hill was...yes! Yes! It was the couple we have all been waiting for. Dobie stood above Dodd on all fours—just the way she most loved to see him. Perhaps “love” was the wrong word. Rarely would demons admit to it. But yearning, definitely, and envy, furiously.

She envied his fangs and sinew. He envied the depths of her magical might. What a picturesque couple they were, and what a phantasmagoric session of dry-humping they had enjoyed minutes before. The memory laid fresh upon them like a daisy’s dew.

“I’ve been thinking about you day in and day out,” he whispered, the muzzle close to her earhole (so basically next to her horn). The breath was hot. “When I’m alone, I’m missing something.”

“I don’t know,” she breathed. “I mean—I-I hate to say it—but the life I have here—”

“Your pleasure is my prison.”

Dodd blinked. “It’s so nice here, though.”

“I know, and I’ve gotten pretty fond of the donkeys. But I’m talking about the fact that your boss wants nothing to do with me. You know that all our troubles would be over if we would only consummate.”

It was a euphemism for harmonious demon fusion. Dodd pictured it: she and he as a chimeric devil-dog, with the pre-selected most desirable traits of both. Dodd realized that the new union could, potentially, merge the knightly aura and raw power of Dobie with the everything-Nyx-liked-about-Dodd of Dodd.

The result was too good to be true because Nyx was too human to see that as anything but unnecessary and repugnant, but Dodd’s imagination didn’t get that far.

“But we can’t consummate,” Dodd groaned—Dobie had nibbled the nape of her neck. “I’m poor.” Imps and lowlifes worked literally for the hell of it.

“Ask your boss.”

“...It’s the wrong time to ask me that,” said Dodd, since Nyx, after all, wasn’t there. “And Lord Nyx is your boss too.”

“I’m nothing but—yeep!”

Dobie swept his arms around Dodd and rolled sideways. A sword had plunged into the earth they’d just left.

When the demidog and imp untangled themselves, they stared up at...Felicity! She had the smile of a confident young villainess, and she was dual-wielding: one hand held a familiar shortsword from the island shop both imps remembered, and the other had transformed into a wood shield.

Dobie hissed like a thwarted vampire. Dodd cried, “Why can’t you do that somewhere else?”

Felicity’s smile faded. It wasn’t often that Dodd sounded this upset... “You promised me,” she said.

“I did, but not right now, please.”

Just then, a murky black portal appeared in the sky and spat out Athalie’s arm, which dropped a piece of paper directly into Dodd’s hands. Then the arm retracted and the portal sizzled out.

The demons stared at it. Not only had their lord never done this before, but also they couldn’t read.

Five minutes of travel and fifteen minutes of cajoling later, they finally got Agi to read the note aloud to them. They had found him sitting on Nyx’s throne, where he’d been spending more and more time since the trip to Farander. The imps had taken it as the closest he could come to betrayal without actually carrying anything out—kinda weird, but okay.

It didn’t help matters that Nyx had “grounded” him a few days back, cutting his hex-buying days short. A curious beast in Stahlroar had almost captured him, tearing out feathers, and after that Nyx realized that the risk of him going out was greater than the risk of him staying in.

“Ahem,” he said, even though everyone knew damn well that he didn’t produce any phlegm. “The letter states, ‘Hey, Dodd, you wanna come out to this waystation? It’s kind of like a’—the word ‘diner’ is crossed out—‘place where mortals eat food, hang out, and go to sleep before going to the next place.’ Those words are also crossed out, followed by the single word ‘inn.’” Just reading the note was clearly annoying Agi on several levels. “‘I figure you’re nice and tactful enough to make for a particularly discreet mortal. Be ready with your answer in like an hour.’” Immediately he handed the note back to her. His grimace was set.

Felicity, Dodd, and the freed Dobie had listened patiently and blankly to the whole thing. Now Dodd looked down at the carpets, thoughtful, and Felicity looked at Agi with an impish grin. “You wish it’d been for you,” she said, “but you’re too garbage.”

“I am not garbage,” he said sadly.

“You weren’t there to see Nyx’s arm delivering the letter, hovering magically in the sky...” She extended one arm and made grotesque licking-biting motions all along it.

Agi’s disturbed face said “oh, my word!” but his voice said, “I have no clue what you’re pantomiming. Romancing a cob of corn? Get out of my sight.”

Felicity did, but not without another leering grin.

A foot away, Dodd debated the offer. Honestly, her brief existence in the village of Nmita had already been a big strange thrill for her. Being in Nightfall Castle for such long stretches had made her domestic, in a way she liked. But...but Dobie was right here, his arms around her in a semi-caress, and he was so...so great.

“I don’t mind it, Dodd,” he said nobly and out of nowhere. “Live your life. Adventure awaits.”

“Just do something good,” said Agi—just when he’d been on the cusp of brooding in melancholy on the grey throne again, he spoke up with a start. “Flick Nyx or something. Please?”

“Well...”