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... ile. "By the crown’s grace!" he gasped, coughing up a cloud of dust. "This powder betrays me!"

I focused, the Heart and quill glowing brighter, their combined buzz like a choir of hyperactive bakers. I pointed the quill, and a massive eclair materialized, long as a lance and oozing cream. It smacked Vythrax’s chest with a SPLAT, cream dripping down his scales like a dessert avalanche. He froze, sniffing the pastry like a gourmet critic at a royal feast. "This... is new," he rumbled, his ...

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