Стража! Стража!

           Shetriedseveralbottlesbeforeshefoundsomethingthat,bythesmellofit,wasprobablytheone.Eventoanosewhichhadlongagoshutdownmostofitssensoryapparatusinthefaceoftheoverpoweringnessofdragons,itseemed,well,morepotentthansheremembered.Butapparentlymenlikedthatkindofthing.Orsoshehadread.Damnnonsense,really.Shetwitchedthetophemofhersuddenlyfartoosensiblenightshirtintoapositionwhich,shehoped,revealedwithoutactuallyexposing,andhurriedbackdownthestairs.

           Shestoppedinfrontofthedoor,tookadeepbreath,twistedthehandleandrealisedevenasshepulledthedooropenthatsheshouldhavetakentherubberbootsoff-

           "Why,Captain,"shesaidwinsomely,"Thisisawhothehellareyou?"

           Theheadofthepalaceguardtookseveralstepsbackwardsand,becausehewasofpeasantstock,madeafewsurreptitioussignstowardoffevilspirits.Theyclearlydidn’twork.Whenheopenedhiseyesagainthethingwasstillthere,stillbristlingwithrage,stillreekingofsomethingsicklyandfermented,stillcrownedwithaskewedmassofcurls,stillloomingbehindaquiveringbosomthatmadetheroofofhismouthgodry-

           He’dheardaboutthesesortofthings.Harpies,theywerecalled.WhathaditdonewithLadyRamkin?

           Thesightoftherubberbootshadhimconfused,though.Legendsaboutharpieswereshortonreferencestorubberboots.

           "Outwithit,fellow,"LadyRamkinboomed,hitchinguphernightietoamorerespectableneckline.