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Noah blinked and wiped his face. “I’m trying not to. I really am, but this is all fucking weird and scary, and we’re fucked. Over a barrel, no lube, and with a horse’s dick.”

“I have been to many orgies, and I do not think you’d like it…” He tilted his head as if considering the idea. “Though it might be fun for some people.”

Noah frowned, not understanding what was going on in Pan’s head. “It’s a saying. An expression that means everything is bad and we’re going to die horribly.”

“Oh, in that case. Yes, we are weighed down with silver and swimming with mermaids. That is a similar expression.”

“Yeah. You’re…you…you’re a god. You’re supposed to be making this right.”

“I’m trying, Noah. But you are the most magical being here.” He lifted one of Noah’s hands and kissed his fingertips. “You are drawn to magic, or it is drawn to you. Either way, you have the power to get us out of?—”

“Thanks, I needed the pressure.” His throat was tight, and he wanted to curl into a ball and make everything go away, but Pan held his hand as if to anchor him in the moment. “I can’t even understand what they’re saying.”

Pan moved closer and placed his hand over Noah’s heart. “You are listening for words, not for the feeling. Words have their own magic, ask any elf.”

Noah glanced up at him. He did not need another mythological being turning up with more demands. “I cannot learn a language like you. I don’t…” But according to Pan, he did have magic. He had the most magic out of anyone there. “I can use magic to learn your language?”

“Which one? I speak many.”

“The one you use with the centaurs.” Pan’s hand was warm against his chest, and he wanted to lean into the heat.

“Tarikian, that is the main language of my world. Though many kinds also have their own language.”

Noah lowered his voice. “And I have more magic than Web?”

Pan laughed. “A random rock on this world has more magic than him.”

“Oh…” He frowned. “It might be best if he didn’t find out that you know that.”

“Yes, his fragile ego might implode.” Pan’s hand lifted from Noah’s chest to cup his cheek. “Witch Noah, by the magic in your blood you have the power to convince the centaur queen that a human tent is superior to one made of a dead dragon. I beg your favor, your blessing, to save us and the dragon.”

Noah smiled. “That was better.”

Pan leaned closer, but it was Noah who closed the gap, knowing that Pan wanted to taste the magic, and since he knew how to use it was only fair that he had some.

Pan blinked as if startled. “Thank you for sharing.”

“It seemed like the right thing to do. Was it?”

“Perhaps. Even if it wasn’t, I liked it. Ready?”

“No. But I’ll try.” He shifted his weight and his phone out of his pocket. “I can show them pictures of more.” He pulled up the camping store website and searched up tents. “And here are the qualities of human made tents.” He showed Pan.

Pan stared at the screen for several seconds. “I have learned to speak your language, but I cannot read it. The pictures are very impressive, though. The colors might win them over.”

“The colors?”

“They have to paint the dragon skin; otherwise, it’s only green.”

“They don’t all come in bright colors. And I doubt many tents will be big enough. Tall enough.” He scrolled through the website, hoping to find one big enough for a couple of horses.

Pan put his hand over Noah’s. “We need to go back out there.”

Noah nodded and lifted his gaze. A centaur child peered through the door. They grinned and asked a question in Tarikian, that was probably something like ‘can I come in’.

Pan responded and moved to the side. The child—or should that be foal?—walked in. They pressed a hand to the mesh and asked another question. It was easy to guess that it was about the mesh, something the child had never seen before. Pan answered.

He indicated for Noah to step out of the tent.