Cindy turned. “By the Cursed Panties of Torajima, what are you doing here?”

The Duke held up his hand, on which glinted a ring. “Gastronaut’s Dragon-Delving Apparatus. One of Gaspard’s earlier efforts; I believe he felt it might be of use to dragon veterinarians. Sadly, he couldn’t find anyone who wanted to be a dragon veterinarian.” He shrugged. “There was only one dragon anywhere near here—and I already knew exactly where he was, so I could precede you here. Had the devil of a time getting him to eat me, poor fellow.”

He raised his other hand, in which he held a crossbow. “Kindly step away from the control crystal, my dear.” Not taking his eyes off of her, he moved over to the crystal ball, tapped a glyph on it, then another.

Nothing happened.

“This can’t be right.” The Duke looked annoyed. “How bothersome. It seems to have accepted you as its exclusive operator.”

“Funny, that,” Cindy smirked.

The Duke gestured to the crystal. “Press that glyph there to transfer control to me. Do it now.”