The snake swelled, grew legs and claws. A dragon’s head with a lipless mouth, which said: “What the hell have you done to him?” “Crushed a bunch of Finch’s sleeping pills into the mead. Figured it was sweet enough to cover the taste. I planned to smash in his skull while he slept, but I don’t think my wife would like it. And neither would his.” I gave her a small, respectful bow, and hoped she wouldn’t kill me. She must love Sir John very much, to stay prisoner to him. “Anyway, I owe him. I’d planned to cut and run, but now . . .” I tipped my face toward the tangled black woods, where May was
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