The iron door flew off its hinges, landing with an ear-splitting clank that rattled the tomb. Screams rose above the clamor of bodies running amok. In the doorway, stood Zevander and his massive scorpion. It shrank just enough to fit through the entryway, then expanded to its usual colossal form. “Who in God’s name is that?” Corwin asked, his voice shaky. “The reason she’s not interested in you,” Aleysia answered.
