The flight was torture. Seri squirmed, but she was wrapped so tightly in the rug she could hardly breathe. The heavy, dusty threads crushed her. She screamed, but it did no good. They were high enough for the air to turn cold and thin, speeding so fast she could feel the wind whipping her face. No one would hear her, and even if she managed to wriggle out from the carpet, she’d only fall to her death.

There was nothing she could do—not until he brought her to wherever he intended to take her. Seri clutched the shears in her hand. They were her only weapon, paltry as they were.

They flew for hours, until Seri’s cramped limbs grew numb, and her stomach soured with dread. Finally, they descended. The rug unraveled her, and Seri fell dizzily to the floor.

By now it was sunset, and her legs felt like jelly. Seri lurched up, reaching for the first piece of furniture she could find. She realized that it was a bed, and she shuddered.

“Please, make yourself comfortable,” the man said.

He had taken off his minstrel disguise and now wore the form of an old man: a great and powerful sorcerer with a white beard, hard eyes, and ancient, but rich clothes from days long past. This, too, was merely an illusion, one cloak exchanged for another.

The man shut the window and lit a candle. It was not the kind of room she had expected. It was small, colored in blues and whites and gold—very feminine. There were no shelves or a desk, but instead a large wardrobe, a chair, and a dressing table.

Seri tucked her shears into the long sleeve of her dress.

“You must be tired from the trip. Have a drink,” the man said.

He indicated a small bedside table where a tray had been set up with two decanters of wine, a goblet, and a pitcher.

“Water or wine, whatever suits your palate. But once you are finished, kindly lay down on that bed.”

Seri pulled herself up.

She walked over to the table. Not because she had any intention of drinking anything he offered, but because she wanted to delay for time. And to get closer to him. She pretended to examine the wines, all the while watching him out of the corner of her eye. He ignored her and pulled a sheet off a gold-framed mirror, which hung upon the wall. A sheen of enchantment coated the glass.

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The sorcerer’s back was to her.

This was as good a chance as she was going to get. Seri ran at him, shears in hand. Before she could stab him, magical coils sprang from the air, binding her once again. Seri thrashed.

“I wouldn’t try it,” the sorcerer said. He slowly turned around. “This is my tower, and the spells protect me. You’ll find they are much stronger than the ones at your castle.”

He plucked the shears from her hand.

“Why are you doing this?” she yelled. “What do you want?”

He set the shears on the tray and looked at her with a cold expression.

“For now,” he said. “I want you to lie on the bed and be still.”

He flicked his hand. The invisible strings pulled her onto the bed. Seri tried to resist, but the strings wound around her and pulled her tight, pinning her to the mattress. It felt as if her arms and legs were tied to the bedposts. She knew then that he was going to rape her and that there was nothing she could do. She screamed and thrashed as best she could, which was not very well at all.

“Stop that,” he said. “It will only hurt more.”

And then he thrust something into her stomach. It felt like a cannonball going through her. Seri howled in pain, but a moment later, the pain had gone, leaving a dull ache and a feeling in her body that something was wrong. Like she had swallowed a lump of iron.

“There,” he said, and the bindings loosened. “No need to be so overdramatic. This sting is but a little. The real pain comes later.”

Seri rolled to her side and rubbed her stomach.

“What did you do to me?” she asked in a shaky voice.

“I put a curse on you,” he said. “It will transform you into a dragon. Not all at once. Slowly, over many months. First, your body will change and then your mind will disappear. You will become a mindless beast—one obedient to me. At my order, you will burn towers and kill and eat those within them, even your own kin. Unless, of course, I chose to break the curse and set you free.”

Seri pressed her hand into her stomach. That was the wrong thing—a spell, rooted deep inside her.

“Why?” she asked.

“If you want to be free from my curse, you must give me something I want. Something only you can give.” He stood over her. “I’m curious as to what you’d offer.”

“And if I refuse?”

“Then I’ll have new pet,” he said.

He walked over to the wardrobe and opened it to reveal beautiful dresses of satin and lace.

“Have a drink, wash up, get dressed,” he said. “This is your room now, and everything here is at your disposal. You will meet me downstairs for dinner.”

“I’m not hungry,” she said.

“But the other girls are,” he said. “And we all eat together.”

“Other girls?” she asked.

He stood in the doorway, his back to her.

“Dinner is at seven,” he said. “Don’t keep us waiting.”