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... ssian complaining about the cleanup costs, Rurik scolding me for being reckless—I patted the Chimera’s head one last time.

It leaned into my touch, purring like a giant, scaly engine.

"Okay, big guy," I whispered. "Fun’s over."

I dumped the remaining Sun-Root Buns into a napkin and tied it into a bundle. I hooked it onto the Chimera’s goat-horn.

"Take this to-go," I ordered, pointing toward the deep woods. "Go back to your den. No eating hikers. No crashing picnic ...

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Recommend my chronology: “Crossing into a Son-in-law’s ex-wife”

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