The next morning, there was a bit of a scene at Huntchy's place, though no one could really tell. Jon-Ton and his lady had a wonderful night, after a fitful start. It seems she was reluctant to transform him, and only did so after stepping outside to collect her bearings. While she was outside, he wondered what was wrong with her. First she was interested, and then she was hesitant. He knew females were fickle, but this was growing to be ridiculous. But he had suddenly found himself a human once again, and when she came back inside, she was more than ready to ruffle up the bed sheets.

There is no need to go into details. Let's just say that it was enjoyable for both. But come sunrise, she got a little nervous. Jon-Tom couldn't figure it out, and she dismissed her behavior as hardly out of the ordinary. He had finally given up and rolled back over when he heard her voice; her human voice that is. As he flipped back, his nose wrinkled at the acridity in the air. It meant that magic had just happened. Sure enough there was Sybeele, looking over at him with that enigmatic smile. He was beginning to think the girl was crazy. She was certainly driving him nuts. It wasn't bad exactly, just a wavering between moods like she needed a good dose of medication.

“Good morning dear! What's the look for?" He propped himself up on one elbow. “It's for you. I swear sometimes I don't know who I'm talking to. One minute you're mood is up, and another you're waffling on about this or that. If the sex wasn't so good, and if I didn't really have love in my heart for you, I call you nuts and have you committed!"

She only giggled. “What with all this power I have at my disposal, where do you think they could put me that would hold me?" He grimaced. “I tend to forget that little detail. Then again, that power alone might be enough to unbalance a person. I may need to keep an extra close eye on you!" She giggled some more. “Oh, you do that! And when your eyes aren't on me, maybe you'd better stick close with your manliness inside me!" He choked back a laugh. “That sounds like a good offer. Is it open?" She got a wry grin. “The offer or my legs?" He pinched her on the butt. “One goes with the other, I think!"

This time she was ready to keep him human and find some excuse for his return to his normal self and his civic duties. He put a halt to it. “I'm just getting to know Huntchy, and I think he has some good insight into things. So do me a favor. Turn me back into a dragon and afterwards, drop off a few of these teeth to Pollwac." She groused a bit.

“The teeth are no problem, but I think it's time you got back to your duties. Don't you?" He shrugged, feeling as he did so his shifting into dragon form. “I can do a lot as a dragon. Heck, if there are any miscreants that need dealing with, bring them here. I'm sure I can get them to reform!" She only wrinkled her nose at him. “You still have everyone who bet on Huntchy's side to deal with. I'd suggest you figure out something for them to do, otherwise they'll think you're a softie!"

He spit out a few smoke rings. “Softie am I? I'll figure out something for them to do. In the meantime, just postpone anything that requires me as a human until such time as I am feeling more like myself. I'm sure most everyone will understand." She giggled, kissed his sooty nose, carefully picked up a few of the dagger like teeth, and departed.

It dawned on him belatedly that he should have eaten first. In human form, his food would have magically expanded to fill the need of the larger form. It was a curious thing. Now he had to go hunting again, or fishing, or something. He was still a fool at times. On occasion it was damn inconvenient. He was preparing to leave when he heard a knock from the inner door. That meant only one possibility. “Come on in. The place is yours after all!'

The horse pushed open the doors and sniffed the room delicately, hoping not to be noticed. It was noticed. “Yes, my wife was here again, as you well know. And I was human yet again, as you must have figured. Why are you surprised?"

“I'm only surprised in that you're still here. Apparently your wife needs you around more than her anger will allow her to keep you away. Or in this case, keep her from you. Don't you find that strange?"

The dragon yawned, showing teeth nearly as formidable as those on the floor. He picked one up and idly played with it. The horse eyed him warily. “Look my fine equine friend; women as a whole are mysterious in their ways. I thought we talked about that. Sure she acts a bit weird, but that's never stopped two people from loving each other. Sure she's hiding something, but with Eve involved, it could be anything. As I told you, I'm old. If death doesn't scare me, what else can? If all they wanted was my power, which my wife now carries, they could have done away with me in the next second. Therefore, they need me. Thus, I will worry about the most pressing needs, such as my present hunger." To punctuate his words, a deep rumbling from his belly could be heard.

In the next instant a furious pounding erupted on the outside door. He pushed it open to see several frightened faces, including Graven's. “My Lord Mayor, we are in dire trouble. Lookouts have spotted a pirate ship on the horizon, making their way here. The last time we suffered an attack, we lost many good creatures in their raid. Will you please do something?!"

Jon-Tom sat down on the cobbles. “Pirates? I've had run-ins with them in the past. Are you certain they're headed here?" He was looking towards the bay, but unable to see because of the buildings. In his mind, he was picturing that old parrot captain from so long ago. His end had befitted him; roasted and eaten by the homeless in Las Vegas. But that was a world and centuries away. This was here and now.

“My Lord, I fear the worse. We have not had pirates on this coast in years. But if they gain any of the technology we develop here, and turn it to evil purpose, then we do a disfavor to all who live along the ocean shores. Surely you can remedy this?"

The dragon stood up to his tallest, trying to peek over the rooftops. Even in this form he wasn't that tall. “OK. Let's go down to the shore and see what we've got to deal with. Perhaps I can persuade them to leave." He puffed out a bit of smoke as emphasis.

To save time, he had everyone, with the exception of his host, climb aboard his back. They then trotted off at a good pace, attracting a small parade of the curious. When they reached the beach, no ships could be seen. Graven explained. “Our lookout is way over there," he said, pointing to an arm of land curving out into the bay. Jon-Tom could discern a small lighthouse-type feature at the end. Graven continued. “From that vantage point much can be seen well before anyone here on shore would catch glimpse of it. That lookout has saved the day many times over the decades."

Everyone clambered off, landing softly in the wet sand. The dragon was considering what to do. If he opened with a pre-emptive strike, and found the ship was not piratical in nature, he would feel bad for the damage he would have caused. “Let them do what they will do, and we will answer in kind. Perhaps they are not as they seem. If they are indeed pirates, then I believe I have a plan for dealing with them."

There were murmurs of unrest. “My Lord, if they are indeed pirates, should we not assemble our guards? As it stands, none of us are armed in any way!" Huntchy coughed. The speaker eyed him angrily. “Don't get smart with me horse! Your hooves will only do so much against armed invaders!"

Jon-Tom coughed a little smoke, then let loose a lungful of flame that evaporated the water on the sand and proceeded to melt it into a glasslike finish. Silence reigned, allowing the sound of the waves to gently fall on their ears. Then there was a gulp. “My apologies. I forget we have a dragon on our side."

There were only two ways the occupants of the ship could come on land. They would either have to enter the harbor and tie up the ship. That was off to the east. The other was by lowering longboats and rowing to the beach. That was here. If they were pirates, their ship would be a dead giveaway if seen up close. So the logical choice was here.

It was nearly two hours before the expected longboats came into view. The townspeople were all sitting on a long ridge on sand, essentially a dune, where the elevation gave them a better view. There was no visible dragon in the area. Therefore, those doing the sitting were a bit on the anxious side. However, they remained in place as the boats pulled into shore, filled with a motley crew of hyenas, badgers, weasels, a wolverine and a few shrews. They pretty much ran the gamut in size, but they were all equally ferocious looking.

Graven stood and carefully slid down the slope. The wolverine caught sight of him, but made no immediate move. The little marmoset spoke. “Welcome visitors. We are here to see what assistance you might need. If your ship needs repairs, you are welcome to enter the harbor. We have fine craftsmen who can fix nearly any damage you might have suffered."

A few guffaws rose from the sailors. “Naw, our ship be fine mate. The only thing she lacks is a full belly, if you get my meaning. If you don't, have no fear. We be teaching you soon enough!" Cutlasses and various blades were withdrawn from their scabbards. The remaining townsfolk slid off the ridge to flat ground, edging slowly away from the pirates and their weapons. But Graven tried again.

“We offer our hospitality to you. There is no need for bloodshed."

The wolverine snarled. “No need? There may not be a need mate, but there is a desire. You didn't go thinking we joined up on this adventure just because we was cute little tourists wishing to see the world? Nay. We want gold, and blood and females. When we gets what we wants, then we'll leave, and no sooner. As for your hospitality, I'll show you some of mine!" His sword arm rose as he strode forward, evil glittering in his eyes.

All at once the ridge exploded. A head hovered in the air above him; a fierce, scaly head with a mouth filled with teeth. And it spoke. “You were shown kindness. You intend to repay it with death. Where I'm from there's a saying; an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth. I would still like to spare you, but two things are against it. One, if I did, you either would return, or at the very least harass others along the coast."

A few pirates were scrambling to get back into the boats. Most had dropped their weapons. A few had loosed their bowels. The wolverine was frozen where he was. “What be the second thing?" His voice quavered. “Jon-Tom picked his teeth with his enormous toenails. “Oh that." He glared down without mercy. “The second thing is…I'm famished!" A jet of flame shot out and over their heads. Frozen no longer, the wolverine raced to the boat and began rowing with all his might.

Cheers erupted from the townsfolk. But Jon-Tom was watching them as they rowed back out to their ship. He knew that this was not the end of their raid. They had made the opening gambit, so now he was free to make his own move. He hated bullies. He hated mindless killers. And particularly, he hated pirates. His present size and body made dealing with them all too easy. That necessitated discretion on his part. The easiest thing to do would be to allow them to return to their ship, and then set it on fire. Out away from shore, the likelihood that they would make it to shore alive was slim.

His decision was made for him. It turns out one longboat had made shore somewhere else and made off with a few females who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Worse yet, they were girls from the school. He was about to be chivalrous when Sybeele stormed up to him.

“Are you handling this, or am I?" He was uncertain which of them would be the best solution to the problem. Before he had a chance to answer, the missing girls were standing in front of them, looking both alarmed and relieved. His wife said in a stern voice, “They are safe now. It's up to you to handle this the best way you see fit. But know this dear; if I don't like your solution, I will invent one of my own that will show those bastards just what the wrath of a woman really is!"

That left him in a lurch. He did have a solution, actually a solution to two problems. However, never in his days had he killed an intelligent being for food. The idea appalled him. But then, so did killing. But if he did not, it would be like letting loose the ravages of the Plated Folk. Worse actually, the more he thought about it. Plated Folk simply killed warmlanders. Death was a more gracious thing than rape and torture. Death was usually quick; the latter prolonged, painful and humiliating. Something in him snapped. With a downbeat, he launched into the air.