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'I'm not used to an entire country seeking me out, ' I said slowly. 'Could you please explain why the Daear equivalent of the United States of America has sent three gryphons over to Lloegyr, what this has to do with bees, and why it's me that they want?'
God knows my life has been very full the last eighteen months, ever since I stumbled across the magical country of Lloegyr. Living alongside dragons, gryphons, were-wolves, and a snail shark has been both a joy and a challenge. You'd think my friends would understand that red wine is the best medicine after another demanding day.
It would help, of course, if I could simply settle into my work with the not-weres at Saint Raphael's. I might even be able to decide whether to accept Llewelyn's marriage proposal. But gryphons have flown across the Atlantic to ask for my help in convincing honey bees to return to Earth. Once again I'm faced with leaving behind everything I know. Can I really cope without touching even a single drop of whisky?
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