Greta looked down her nose at Devon. Not an unimpressive feat, as he now loomed over her reclined position. The woman continued to trash talk.

“And you think she’s going to help you, after you dragged her, something like her, here against her will? Not your best day, Devon.”

“We would never have made it here if she was truly taken against her will!” the dwarf roared back. Then he turned to Tina, his expression now truly chastened. “What did she offer you? To send you back? To send you back to the time and place of your choosing? Not the place you left? Oh, she might even do it, but you probably won’t like what you find when you get there. Some of us obey the letter of the laws of all the worlds.”

He pointed at Greta.

“Those like her do not!”

He really seemed like he was telling the truth, now she was looking for it, and not assuming it.

Tina turned to the older woman, a little worried about what she was hearing.

“Is that true?” she wanted to know. “Would you send me somewhere else, not back home and to someplace that might be bad?”

The woman pursed her lips, then gave out a short sigh.

“You can’t get something without giving up something,” she stated. “It would be different, where you would be going, but you’re adaptable, aren’t you. Just look at yourself. For most, a journey here where you came from would drive a common person mad. Your employer could tell you as much.”

Tina turned back to Devon, got up from her recliner.

“But you’ll take me back, right,” she said, “to where I came from?”

She felt she needed some sort of command to make sure that Devon followed through.

“On pain of death!” she cried out in a tone she wasn’t aware she possessed. 

“As you say my lady, on pain of death,” he said, bowed in a ridiculously reverent manner and then reached out his hand to her. “But we have to leave now. Before her own guards get here. She’s only trying to keep us here until they can arrive.”

“Devon,” Greta chided. “Come now, don’t be an unwelcome guest. It’s not like you to turn down some unnecessary bloodshed.”

There were shouts now coming from within the mansion. Male. Angry.

“I suppose I succeeded,” the woman said, not appearing at all concerned with the threat of violence.

“I think we’d better go,” Devon told Tina.

She took his hand, a little uncertainly, but the strength of his grip seemed to reassure her somehow and cut through the weird buzz she’d gotten from the sangria. 

“Yes, go,” Greta added. “Go to your barbecue pit of certain death. See what that gets you! It will all end in tears, it has been foretold. The fates are cruel Tina Ruttledge, remember that.”

Devon tightened his grip and pulled her into the crowd of warriors. Her nostrils were assaulted by a degree of testosterone she’d never felt before like she was surrounded by a flock of very smelly billy goats, as a man, each and every one turned their backs to her in a complete circle of men, muscle and steel.

It seemed reasonable Tina found the whole situation kind of hot, even arousing.

“I think I’m going to regret this,” she still said as she allowed herself to be lead back thought the house accompanied by the clash of metal and the grunts of men as hers and Devon's entourage fought their way out of Greta’s Byzantine mansion.

“You should have thanked her for the drink,” Devon said as they hustled out. “Greta rarely offers anyone something from her private stock. I can imagine that’s the last chilled drink you will have in some time. And we might not have had to fight our way out of here.”

How did he know the Sangria was chilled? But more importantly, Tina had to pull back when the tip of a blade managed to slip through, and might have skewered her if she hadn’t skittered a foot backwards.

“Why didn’t you tell me then?!” She yelled at Devon who himself has just stuck a blade through a gap in their shield and she was hit with a light spattering of blood. 

He looked up and grinned unapologetically at her.

“It’s not like me to turn down the opportunity for some unnecessary bloodshed.”