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Two weeks passed and with it seven changes in form for Sybeele. That meant seven new bodies for her husband to run through their paces. He took it like a man every time. Overall, things had settled down a bit. They had nearly forgotten about the pirates, and more seriously, little Pomfrey. Therefore they were rather startled in the middle of their love making one evening when the little banker suddenly appeared in their bedroom. At first it was hard to say who was more alarmed. Then he realized he was back in his home town and dropped to the floor crying. Jon-Tom was in the middle of something he very much wanted to stay in the middle of, but his wife pushed him off, dressed herself with a flick of her wrist and dropped down next to Pomfrey. "What is it little one? After two weeks, you can't be terrified of your equals anymore. I sense something more serious." His eyes narrowed when he recognized her. He should have been terrified. He wasn't. "You, madam, are a bitch of the highest degree. However, I get the feeling you never meant me any harm. We will discuss this little episode at a later date. Right now, I believe we have bigger problems." Her own eyes widen at being called a bitch, but she restrained herself. "What is there that could be worse than me, little one?" He looked from her to Jon-Tom, who was still lying on the bed sporting an enormous hard-on. "This town nearly came to ruin when this fool of a human drank that brew that turned him into a dragon. But we have a bigger problem. A real dragon! A huge, ugly, fire breathing monster! The thing settled on that scrap of sand you left me on and began eating those pirates. That didn't bother me in the least." He got thoughtful for a moment. "And I'll have you know I resent being classified as one of them. I may be less than admirable, but I never killed another being in my life. Business is, after all, business and hard to conduct when your client is dead." Sybeele was about to spell him away. Jon-Tom ran interception. "A dragon? They aren't that common, even in my time." Pomfrey's eyes narrowed again. "Your time?" The spellsinger tapped his wife on the shoulder. "Uh, would you mind getting me dressed? It'll be less awkward." He was no sooner done speaking when he felt a cotton shirt and leather pants against his skin. "Thanks!" He turned to the banker. "We'll discuss what happened to you at a later date. However, I'm warning you now that whatever protest you make will be met with the same graciousness you've shown people under your sway. Do I make myself clear?" "Yes sir, you do. But my life will be worth nothing, as will all of ours, if that dragon heads this way. In all the histories, there has only been mention of one dragon, old Maarteel. He was neither a friend nor an enemy. We had a mutual cause in those murderous insects. But he had to eat. Do you know what they fed him?" It wasn't a trick question, but it didn't have an immediate answer. He supplied it. "They emptied the jail to feed him. Murderers, rapists, burglars; when they ran out of those they started looking for anyone that didn't make the grade. This new dragon won't have any qualms about eating everyone, without pausing to see if they are quality or not. I have no intention of sticking around to see what happens. If you changed into a dragon once, go back and drink more of that brew. Otherwise, we'll never be able to defend ourselves." Sybeele was ready with a retort, but her husband held up his hand. "That island is a fair ways off. Why do you think that dragon will head here? I think we are prepared to handle it regardless, but it may continue on down the coast." Pomfrey dropped to the floor in exhaustion. "The thing was questioning those it ate, before it ate them. It wanted to know where the other dragon was. Well, those stupid sailors were terrified beyond reason, and were too cowed to properly give directions to the town. I hid, and prayed, and promised to turn over a new leaf, and so here I am I guess. But if that thing makes landfall, I won't have time to take a bath, much less make amends." He started to sob and instinctively reached for his hanky and was startled to find it. He patted himself down. He was back to being dressed in his finery. He wiped away the tears. "Oh, thank you, thank you!" Sybeele was less than gracious. "Don't thank me. I want this big brute to know that it's eating a fine, soft, rich, good-for-nothing banker if it comes down to that. Now get out!" He scampered from their bedroom, and his light footfalls could be heard pattering down the stairs. The door opened, and then slammed shut. She looked at him. "I think I can handle a simple thing like a dragon. But I wonder how it heard about you? It's not like anyone much leaves here except the fisherman. And for that matter, why is it in this area? Perhaps it's just lonely?' Jon-Tom remembered Falezemar. He was lonely because he was a socialist. Overall, he was a good hearted dragon, but in the end, he was still a dragon. And dragons had to eat. This one apparently didn't take to finding sustenance in the ocean. A pity really, considering the size of some of the unintelligent species that abounded there. "Lonely? Dragons are few and far between in my time, much less now. I'm certain it is lonely. Maybe you'd better transform me and allow me to investigate. The sooner we get to the bottom of this mystery, the better off we'll be. And yes, I know you have to power to handle it. But if you go using it all the time, you'll soon be as bad as Eve, using it to solve her problems instead of using her head." His wife was prepared to argue. It dawned on her he was correct. If she was going to use magic, why not change him into the dragon one more time? It wasn't likely he would come to harm from one of his own. If he did, she would be there, on the fringe, in case the matter got to be too hot to handle. "Alright dear. You'd better step outside. I think my bedroom mood is rather in shambles anyway."

They walked downstairs, out into the open air and breathed in the crisp air. He gave her a dainty little kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you in a few hours. I can't imagine this will take longer than that to resolve this little problem. If it does take longer, you'll know, I'm sure." The change in his body was immediate. Wings sprouted, scales formed, and a furnace stoked in his belly. With a spring he launched into the air, reaching the clouds within ten wing beats. In another five he was heading back to that little spit of land sitting in the middle of the ocean. As he flew, he wondered at all the trouble and difficulty he was having. He didn't mind; not really, but he had understood that this job was supposed to be perfunctory. Here he was a dragon again, going to investigate the presence of another dragon who was eating pirates like hors d'ouerves. He wasn't too worried about the pirates. They were the worst kind of scum, and they were fortunate in not being eaten because of his personal morality. Apparently this other dragon had no scruples when it came to lunch. When he came within sight of the island, he could see smoke rising. Since there was no volcano, it seemed to confirm the presence of another fire breather. He wasn't certain how he felt about that. It would be the first time he would be pitting himself in an even fight, should it come down to that. It gave him mental goose bumps. Along the shoreline the palm trees were smoldering, and the undergrowth was scorched and blackened. He half expected to see dead bodies strewn around, but then remembered that they would not have gone to waste. He glided with his wings locked for about a mile before he found his quarry. It was sleeping in a pile of glowing coals, the remains of trees, huts and victims. Circling for a few minutes, he took the time to decide how to broach the inevitable meeting between them. The one laying there asleep appeared to mass more than he did. That made him cautious. He chuckled to himself that that was the first time he had entered anything with the slightest trepidation. "Oh the heck with it. It's now or never!" he muttered. He dropped like a rock, back peddling in the air just before he touched down. Ashes and sparks flew skyward. The other woke from its slumber. Its head came up, displacing burning bits and smoldering leaves. "Oh ho! I did smell another of my kind, born on the winds that cross the sea. Strange tho. I thought most of dragon kind be dead or worse. The last dragon to inhabit these parts was ole Maarteel. Now he knew how to show a girl a good time!" Jon-Tom found the situation had just taken a turn for the worse. Not only was he facing a larger dragon, he was facing a female one. Roseroar had made a lovely dragon, but this thing was obviously old and more than a bit gnarled. He wouldn't say ugly exactly, just tired and worn looking. It also didn't help that she had a bit of burnt flesh stuck to her lip. "Hello! My name is Jon...Aiden Drake. I'm not originally from these parts." She stood and began circling him, sniffing and mumbling. "Curiouser and curiouser. Methinks you are not what you seem to be, Jon Aiden Drake. Methinks you stink of something other than dragon. And I'm no fool. Aiden used to mean fire in another tongue. Drake needs no explanation. My own name is hardly draconian in nature." His interest in her changed. "I normally go by Jon-Tom. Aiden Drake was a nickname given to me by the locals after I accidentally turned into a dragon. So yes, I'm not a real dragon." She chuckled. "Not a real dragon. Oh honey pie; you're a real dragon, just not a natural one. Neither am I. Perhaps you've heard of me? Everyone used to know me from one end of this ocean to the other. Then came the war with the Plated Folk." She paused for effect. "My name is Almachtigah. You can call me Alma for short." Sadly, the name meant nothing to him. He was four hundred years in the past, and on a different world. He knew a lot, but he didn't know everything. He had come close once, but it overloaded his brain. Besides, if you knew everything, what fun would there be left in life? Well, besides sex. He made a little bow. "I'm sorry to say I've never heard of you." Before she could protest, he held up his hand. "I'm not from this time, and I'm not from this world. So don't take it personally. There are many things I'm ignorant of." "Different time and different world... Let's say I believe you, which I don't. What world and what time are you from?" He sighed. "My home world is called Earth. I'm presently some four hundred years in the past; my past. From the time I came to this world it's about three hundred years in the past, more or less." She snorted a bit of flame in his direction. "You seem awfully unsure of yourself. Can't you be more accurate?" He grinned. "Lady, if you ever get yanked from your own world and drawn into another, and then release an all-too-happy-to-meddle goddess who happens to be able to time travel; see how well you can keep track of the years. I'm over a hundred now, with no end in sight." Alma unfurled her wings. "OK. For argument's sake I'll believe you. Ain't gonna be no harm in doing so. But what's you doin' as a dragon? And what are you when you ain't wearin' scales?" "Human. That's how I was born, and that's how I hope to die. But life has seen fit to throw me into all sorts of situations, and this present one is just another in a long line of interesting predicaments." She snorted again, this time a little hotter. "Human? Ain't no human's ever had no power. Magic was done by the blessed folk. But then, maybe times changed things; who's to tell? I wasn't a dragon until we found out they were effective against the Plated Folk. It took all me magic to do it, but I managed it. Problem was, once the war was over, I couldn't change back, and no wanted to help poor Alma. Tends to make you bitter. Of course, old Maarteel made life a bit more interesting, but even he died in the end. Me, I don't know what I did, but I seem to age much slower. Life gets to be tough when there's no end in sight." Then she jerked her head in his direction. "You said that too! How come?" He sighed. "We can discuss that later. How long have you been a dragon?" She looked skyward as she answered. "Since the war. So I suppose about as long as you've been alive. I'd give about anything to turn back to myself, grow old, and die. Of course, a few children would be nice." She looked up at him. "You know, you and I might be able to fix that little problem right now!" He backed up a bit. "The offer is nice, but I'm committed to another right now." He mumbled something she couldn't quite hear. "What was that?" He choked on his own smoke. "I was saying that I'm married now, and that I have many wives back in my own time. And I really don't need to have dragon cubs flying about setting fire to the landscape. I don't think I'd be doing anyone any favors. You see, when I'm not a dragon, I happen to be the mayor of Hobarrow." Her eyes narrowed. "Hobarrow. I didn't realize I was that close to home. I wonder if any of the wizard's guild from my time is still alive. I am still hungry after all." He stood up on his back legs, trying to be intimidating. She only laughed. "Oh sit down, you idiot. I was joking. Do ya think I wouldn't recognize vermin when I found them?" She was referring to the pirates. "I have nothing against nobody. I knew it was a fool thing to do when I did it, transforming meself, but the warmlanders needed all the help they could get. I just didn't think I'd be stuck for the rest of me life. And what a life its been. Spent twenty years at Gortholem prison as chief executioner. I don't have bad taste, just a taste for the bad I guess." She chuckled ruefully. During all this he had been thinking. "Alma, would you be willing to change back if you could?" She lowered her eyes to glare at him. "Don't go offering up what you can't deliver you naked ape. Then again, you aren't what you seem to be, so someone or something is making changes." She was silent for a bit. "You know, now that the offer is made, I'm not certain. The things I've done as a dragon are not bad...if you think of me as a dragon. But if I change back, those things will be viewed in a whole other light. I'll be trading one misery for another. I'll have to debate with meself for a bit. Would you mind coming back tomorrow?" He made a bow and flew off, back towards the mainland. When he got home, his present form drew some excited attention. It was in part due to Pomfrey, who was running around declaring doom. When Jon-Tom was recognized for who he was, the townsfolk began berating the little gopher. Sybeel stepped between him and them, turned to her husband, who in a blink reverted back to his normal self. That drew gasps from the crowd. Before they could question him, he blurted out, "There is another dragon. She is not going to come here and cause destruction. I have offered to help her with a problem. At this moment, she is deciding whether or not to take it. So for now, go home. As you can see, I have matters under control." There was a lot of grumbling, but they did finally disperse, with the exception of one. Huntchy stood his ground. "A dragon is nothing to take lightly. Look at the harm you did without even trying! Who is this beast that she would want or need our help?" Jon-Tom eyed his wife. "Since you'll be the biggest part of this, what say you walk with us? Huntchy may have some valuable insight into this matter and his historical knowledge may prove invaluable." She shrugged in a what-else-do-I-have-to-do manner and fell in step. "This dragon is real, no doubt about that, but she's about as natural a dragon as am I. She's apparently an old wizard or sorceress from the same time as Maarteel and the old Plated Folk wars. According to her story, she turned herself into a dragon to help fight, and when it was all over, she was unable to change back. She's been roaming the world since, if I get her story correctly. I told her we could help." The horse was thinking this out. "There were a number of wizards who put their lives on the line for the defense of our survival. There was Kertoy, Mellomin, Preebo, and Almachtigah. They all died protecting the warmlanders from the invasion." Jon-Tom jumped. "That last one. Tell me about him!" "Not him; her. There were very few powerful female wizards, but she was an exception. Of course, her very nature was imbued with magic. Stories say she resented others who could do magic. Other stories claim the other wizards shunned her for her abilities. My family has a story that says she was beautiful and selfless. I think perhaps I even have a painting of her at the house. She had beautiful gray eyes and the longest white hair flowing down her neck. But it was painted after the war and with nothing but a description to go on. It was said she used her magic until it ran out. For the average person, that would be like bleeding out from a wound." "Alma... Who would have guessed?" It was Jon-tom mumbling to himself. "Alma?" Asked Sybeele. "Almchtigah? Are you saying this dragon is a long lost wizard? But that doesn't make any sense. Why would she leave this place if it was her home?" Jon-Tom coughed. "A dragon has to eat, doesn't it? She could hardly stay and eat her friends and relatives. She left to keep the peace. She even was the executioner at some prison place or another." Huntchy looked green. "You cannot possibly be talking about the real Almachtigah! She was peaceful, and kind, and would harm no one! She might have turned into the appearance of a monster, but she would never have become one." He would have remarked more, but a gust of wind nearly knocked them over. No natural wind, it was the back draft from dragon wings. In a rather stern voice, she spoke directly to Huntchy. "Monster? A dragon is no more a monster for following its life cycle than you are for following yours. It's true that things have been done I ain't proud of, but I've done me best to alleviate them, if you know what I mean." Jon-Tom was a bit surprised. "I thought you wanted a day to think about it! Why are you here already?" "Well ape-boy, I'm tired. As it is, I may keep going for centuries longer. I may not consider myself a monster, but I'm tired of surviving in a manner unbefitting someone of my birth. Your equine friend is rather correct in his remembrance of my former self. That is why when I needed to eat, I ate criminals. I have a low tolerance for the evil and twisted and heartless. But they do digest. You'd be surprised the depths you'll stoop to survive. Sybeele had been content to listen. She put out a hand and brushed her fingertips down the rough and ragged scales. She stopped and smiled. "I try not to judge too harshly. My husband here has done things he's not proud of, but he saved my life in doing them. I would hope he doesn't feel the need to apologize too much for his actions. There are always going to be bad people out there. Some will change, most will not. It's good to know that there's some good use for those of the latter persuasion. As for changing you back; I can do it whenever you're ready." The dragon could feel a little electricity already running through her body. "Just like that? No incantations or powders? You must have far greater power than I ever had if you can change me without the proper preparations! If you can do it, then waste no time. I'd prefer to be back to meself sooner rather than later!" She had hardly spit those words out when she felt the internal wrenching. Her vision blurred and when she could see clearly again, it was from a much lower center of gravity. She looked from one to another and smiled. The human female smiled back, but the two males just gaped. Of them, the horse fainted and fell over.