Jewel Turner's husband was the most incompetent dragon hunter that ever lived.

When Gerald went after Dragon Falco she knew he would screw it up somehow. Falco was famous in dragon-hunting circles. A half dozen hunters had gone after him and none had come back. Gerald had not come back. Jewel knew Gerry was still alive. If he were dead, the world would have become a dark empty cavern of loneliness and pain. Sunlight still fell warm on her face and stars still brilliantly adorned the night sky. Therefore Gerald Turner was still breathing somewhere and it was her job to get him back.

It wasn't easy to get a message to Dragon Falco, but she managed it. She asked him to meet her at the Ambassador Hotel at 2 o'clock on Saturday. She picked out her largest and most tasteless cocktail ring and dropped it into the envelope. Alone, it wouldn't buy Gerry's freedom, but it would get Falco's attention.

She arrived a few minutes early with a shopping bag over her arm about half full of her best necklaces, bracelets and earrings--not the emerald earrings, Gerry had given her those, but the diamond and ruby ones she'd had for years. A cheap price to pay to get the center of her life back.

Falco was already waiting for her. He didn't look like a dragon, of course. It would be tough to get leather pinions through the front door even if the attendant opened it all the way. Falco had obviously thrown together his human seeming without much thought. He had chosen black skin, Chinese eyes, Native American hair, Hispanic lips and a Norwegian nose. Fortunately in New York that's hardly unusual.

His eyes fell on her immediately. She didn't think he recognized her, but his nostrils flared. He probably smelled the diamonds.

"Hello!" she said. "Falco?"

"Yesss," he hissed. "Isss that for me?" His eyes darted to the bag.

"If we can come to mutual agreement. Let's go into the bar. We need privacy."

Jewel headed for the bar, knowing he would follow the bag. The bar was more crowded than she expected at this time of afternoon but she found an enclosed booth in a far corner and slid onto the old leather seat. Falco took the seat opposite. He ordered a Quantro, she ordered a diet Coke.

"I don't want to haggle," Jewel said. "Return my husband and this entire bag is yours."

"Ssshow me what you have," he whispered aquiver with anticipation.

"You show me yours and I'll show you mine," she said.

Falco wore a black suit, red tie and crisp white shirt. He opened the shirt collar and pulled out a tacky gold chain with several charms hanging from it, each one a tiny gold human--a Chinese girl with a bow and arrow, an African man with a shield and spear, a Turkish man with a kalashnikov, and dear Gerald with his Abercrombie and Fitch ammo jacket and his AK47. She reached out to touch him. Falco caught her wrist.

"The bag . . . let me ssseee." Falco's skin shimmered. She caught a glimpse of scales.

"Of course," she said and dumped the glittering horde onto the table among the glasses and the cocktail napkins. Falco's ordinary brown Chinese eyes suddenly glowed red.

"Were . . . iss the emeraldsss," he said.

Irritation flickered in Jewel's breast. "Those emeralds are mine. Gerald gave them to me."

"He talked and talked until I fell asssleep. He ssstole them."

That was Gerry, always a great talker. He certainly charmed her right out of her tree once upon a time. Now, though, her anger was rising.

"Look," she said. "This is a nice sized horde. Take it!"

"The emeraldssss or forget it," Dragon Falco sneered.

"You can't have them, you stupid worm!" she roared. "Give back my husband!" Heads all over the bar turned. She didn't care. She lunged for the gold necklace and grabbed Gerry.

Then Falco roared. It wasn't like Jewel's housewife growl. It was full-throated dragon thunder. Human screams followed, mixed with the little bleeps of dozens of cell phones dialing 911 and the stampede of barflies heading for the door. When Falco roared he also jerked his head back, breaking the fine chain that held Gerry and the others. Which also broke the spell. Suddenly the table was filled with the thrashing bodies of Chinese, African, and Turkish dragon hunters--and Gerry.

Jewel pushed the Chinese woman off her husband and grabbed Gerry's hand. "Come on!" she yelled.

Falco overturned the table sending dragon hunters, Quantro, diet coke and diamonds onto the floor in a sticky mess. Falco's wasn't bothering with a human head any more and flames flickered from his nostrils.

The dragon hunters, always fast on the uptake, jumped to their feet. The African set his spear and the Turk put the kalashnikof against his cheek. The Chinese woman's bow had broken in the crash, but she whipped out a sword decorated with fluttering silk scarves. The dragon hunters circled, except for Gerald. Jewel tugged on his arm, dragging him toward the door. His Ak47 was somewhere under the table.

"You can not esssscape meee!" said Falco. His arms were unfurling into wings and his feet were already talons.

"I'm going to kill you, Falco," Gerry yelled. "You can count on it!" Jewel elbowed his ribs.

Falco's laughter boomed. "You can nottt kill meee," he sneered. "How many dragonssss have you killed?"

The Turk fired a blast, spraying Falco with bullets, which bounced off the scales across his chest. He was now fully a dragon, his wingtips stretching from the kitchen door to the juke box.

Jewel saw that Falco was correct. Gerry couldn't do it unless Falco could be talked to death and these dragon hunters with their primitive weapons could not do it either.

Jewel let go Gerry's hand and stretched out her arms. "Gerald has never killed a dragon," she said. "He's only hunted two dragons in his life."

Falco grinned. Steam escaped past his fangs. Jewel knew his killing fire was coming any second now. "Who wasss the firssst?" he said.

"Me," she said and her own wings unfurled.