That night the white horse became a dragon again.
It cost him. He had been a horse so long that shaking off the shape was like tearing a scab, but he did it — coiled up out of the palace stable, scales and horns and four hundred years of prince, and went to the banquet where the demon sat charming the court in his young-lord disguise, and attacked him directly, dragon against demon, to kill him and end it and free his master.
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